Chapter 10

Daniel

I wasn't entirely certain why I kept my feeling of amusement as I listened to the banter of the men within the Brotherhood. I'd been to one meeting years before, only in Constantine's absence when providing necessary information had been required. They'd been accommodating but had asked me to leave after I'd done my job.

Today, I'd been invited into the fold, expanding the group of eight men to nine, the odd number alleviating the fear a vote would be tied.

The private room had mirrored glass, allowing us to see the actions gamblers were engaged in, also keeping the dealers honest. They had no idea that they were being scrutinized by one of us or by the strict manager of the casino.

And for some reason, I had a very bad feeling today would end up being a shitstorm.

"A stunning replica of the MGM resort in Vegas," Sabatino DiMaggio said more in passing as he flanked my side. He was also relatively new to the alliance, joining less than a year before. He was known for his suave way of handling business, easily getting under an opponent's skin before they knew it.

"I've never been there."

"You're missing out." He lifted his glass as if his nod of reverence would matter to me. I was still not convinced this was in my best interest, but with the possibility of taking over the Cosa Nostra, it was best to build friendships along the way.

"I'll consider going one day." I continued sipping on my drink, curious as to why my thoughts were never far removed from Maria. She was entirely different than I'd thought she'd be, not nearly the spoiled brat I'd been told she was. There was more of an air of someone who'd been through a lot in her life, just as easily scraping her fingers through dirt as through caviar. I couldn't seem to get it off my mind and there was absolutely no reason why.

"Don't worry. The shitheads over there don't bite," he offered, as if that was what I worried about.

"We heard that, newbie," Gabriel Giordano shot out, the New Yorker considered my brother's best friend even though there were a thousand miles between our territories. He was a genuinely good guy, something I enjoyed being around.

The others? Not nearly as much, their smugness driving me crazy.

Both Sabatino and I walked toward the rest of the group, Constantine continuing to scrutinize me. Always the damn big brother no matter how old we got. I found that annoying as fuck.

"What's wrong, Daniel? Married life doesn't suit you?" Diego Santos asked. He and his twin brother Dante were both members, brutal yet suave.

"It suits me just fine. The timing of this meeting is what doesn't suit me," I answered, which brought a deep laugh from the Russian in the group, Maxim Nikitin. He was a panther in a cage, all sharp canines and claws, eager to rip out the heart and guts of anyone who crossed him. I found myself admiring his take no shit attitude.

"We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for the fact that you antagonized Liam O'Banyon," Brogan Callahan stated. Somehow his Irish accent was more pronounced than usual, as if doing that for effect given Liam's heritage.

I slowly turned my head in his direction, studying him intently. He was usually the quiet, jovial one of the group, at least according to my brother. I'd received a full lineup of the men prior to today so I knew what I was getting myself into. "It was necessary given their attitude at the meeting I called. What's it to you?"

The tension was based more on the level of testosterone in the room versus the question, although I sensed Brogan bristling.

"Because anything that happens with the O'Banyon clan I hear about. They are insistent on coming into Chicago as well. They were told they weren't welcome. Now, I heard on the street they're continuing to search for a new landing spot."

"Why not stay in New York?" I asked.

"Because no one wants to be associated with them. They are known to eat their own," Phoenix Diamondis, the Greek god out of Philadelphia muttered. "But they are very connected in Europe. If you do take over the Sicilian Cosa Nostra, you don't want them as your immediate enemy."

In my mind it was unacceptable Constantine had mentioned the terms of the deal made with Rossi, but I understood why. "I will take that under advisement. If they stay out of our way, I have no qualms keeping the peace."

"Be mindful, gentlemen, no matter what I've told you about my studious, animal-loving brother in the past, he's a wolf in sheep's clothing."

"Then he'll fit in perfectly with the rest of us," Dante Santos offered. Or perhaps I should call the twins by their birth names, their father the brutal leader of the South American cartel, the second of the two destined to take over when their birth father resigned or was killed.

Just like Giovanni Rossi was fearful of.

Our world certainly took a toll on longevity.

"Any news on the Death Squad?" Diego asked, already moving past concerns about the Irish.

"Nothing concrete," Constantine answered. "We're still working through cleaning up the streets of their possible soldiers, but most have fled the city."

The infamous Death Squad, a group of unknown yet highly powerful men and women determined to take over the world.

They had men everywhere, low ranking members of the secretive organization required to do their bidding, including the elimination of their enemies. It was as if a ticking bomb had been planted in the center of the earth, destined to go off eventually. We were banded together, the Brotherhood looking at further expansions in an attempt to create an even more powerful organization.

I wondered if that would occur in our lifetimes.

"Well, then. Let's get on to the business of the day and the reason for our meeting so our newlywed here can get back to his lovely bride, your new ball and chain," Maxim said more in jest.

Every man in the room was married, several with children, which added to the solidarity and commitment we afforded each other.

"Then we do it," Constantine stated as he placed his glass on one of the tables.

Within any organization there were rules and rituals, oaths of honor and loyalty. That didn't matter if it came by signing a contract with a pen or with making the commitment sealed in blood. Membership in the Brotherhood was sacred, something bestowed on only the best. I'd heard that from day one of Constantine organizing the first meeting, his rules not to be ignored.

We were all considered kings, yet rivals in a dangerous game of supremacy, ruthless predators who would stop at nothing to get what we wanted. And any of us who ignored the sanctity, breaking the sovereignty of the invisible ‘round table' would face punishment.

Including the possibility of death.

It wasn't to be taken lightly so when my own brother heated a sharp blade in the flickering flame, I studied it carefully. This was my future, something as a kid I'd thought I wouldn't need to face. But things changed within every family, our power more desirable than ever before.

So when the blade was sliced across my palm, I looked each man in the eye, giving them a nod of respect.

When it was finished, I clenched my hand, allowing drops to fall to the table. Only then did I grab my drink once again, lifting it in a toast to the added strength of the alliance.

"To the Brotherhood," I offered.

"Hear, hear," Gabriel muttered.

"To the future and the power of us all," Constantine added.

They would now be required to come to my assistance should it be deemed necessary.

We would see.

Less than thirty minutes later, I walked out into the bright sun, buttoning my jacket as I headed for the SUV. I normally preferred to drive myself, but I could handle a few aspects of business while Brock drove.

He grinned as I approached, acting like my chauffeur as he opened the door. "Good meeting, boss?"

The brute of a man made a damn good bodyguard. When not flanking my side by request, he worked one of the casinos, walking the floors and ensuring that no one was cheating the house. The guy was damn good at what he did.

"It was workable." The dull ache in my hand remained, the wrap of gauze already irritating me. The cut wasn't deep, but even though I'd taken a couple of bullets before, a cut was always more painful.

"Back to the house?"

"For now." I eased inside, immediately grabbing my phone to check my email. I was in charge of handling various corporate business activities as well as the duties on my own ranch. While I had an extremely reliable foreman, I preferred handling several aspects of the horse ranch myself, including some of the day-to-day tasks. Chores cleared my head, keeping me from resorting to methods of anger.

As I checked out the email sent by our accountant with the month-end financials, I was pleased that our predictions had come true, the money spent on the new ads for the casinos paying off tenfold. Business was up by over fifteen percent, a far cry better than this time last year. We had plans on continuing our expansions into Oklahoma City, Cincinnati, and Indianapolis in the upcoming years. We were on track to achieve our goals.

The two men talked as we headed through the city back to the house. I would enjoy the time away more than I'd originally believed, not only to spend time getting to know my bride by to refresh my mind. I'd been working sixteen-hour days for over a year. It was starting to take a toll, something I wouldn't have said ten years ago. Now I was on the cusp of turning forty, which made my bride far too young for me.

I smirked as I shifted from one set of budgets and balance sheets to the other, also responsible for keeping a good financial hold on our less than scrupulous businesses. Even if Danika was responsible for their success.

When the vehicle slowed at a traffic light, I took a deep breath and lifted my head. A flash coming from my right immediately caught my attention, but it was too late.

The hard crash sent the heavy SUV spiraling out of control, glass shattering everywhere. I was pitched against the driver's side, the momentum knocking the wind out of me.

I heard the echo of Brock's strangled yell, yet the roar of the crunch of steel was deafening.

Spinning in a circle, it seemed all time had stopped. When the vehicle flipped, soaring through the air, I was certain this was it, my soul soon to be hand delivered to the devil.

With another savage thud, it landed on the roof, the horrible creaking sounds and hisses of steam erupting from burst hoses all I could concentrate on. Yet as the reality started to sink in that I was still alive, I took a deep breath, ignoring the agony.

I had to get the fuck out of the vehicle.

By the grace of God, I managed to crawl out, gasping for air. People were running toward the crash, every noise and yell echoing. Another sound drew my attention and I could tell the driver of the vehicle that had crashed into us was attempting to break free.

The fucking wreck had been no accident. My leg stiff, the stench of blood and gasoline ripe in the air, I struggled to convince my body to move while jerking out the weapon. When I finally cleared the front of the crushed rubble, I'd hope to recognize the goddamn assholes so I could hunt the man behind the near massacre down. Unfortunately, the guy was someone I'd never seen before. However, he wasn't alone, someone in the passenger seat as well.

The driver continued to fight to get the driver's door open, but the force of the impact had crushed the metal frame. Good for me. Bad for him. If the son of a bitch thought he was getting away, he was a fucking idiot.

Without hesitation, I fired off several rounds, not stopping until blood covered the windshield.

Only then did the realization of what had just occurred finally take its toll and I slowly fell to my knees, surrendering to the agony.

Not without making a promise to track, hunt, torture, and kill until blood covered every inch of my body.