Chapter 4

Five weeks earlier

Daniel

Power.

That's a word I'd heard early in my life, perhaps before I'd even learned how to walk. Some said my brother, sister, and I had been born with silver spoons in our mouths. From the outside looking in, I could certainly understand how they would say that. How could they not, given the fact we'd been brought up on a huge estate, a ranch that was something lavish even in the world of wealthy horse breeders and oil tycoons?

My father had worked hard his entire life to allow his three children to attend the finest schools, have sports cars waiting for them on the day they turned sixteen, and provide the kind of expensive toys that every man, woman, and child would drool over. He'd paraded himself around as a doting father and animal lover, both just fabrications for the press.

However, just like his wealth and power hadn't been earned legitimately, the lives of his children hadn't been all gold and diamonds either. We'd become used to dangerous people both in and surrounding our lives, forced to have bodyguards for as long as I could remember just to keep us alive.

We'd been studied and scrutinized wherever we went, members of law enforcement watching our every move. That's why it had always felt as if I'd lived in a glass house, terrified someone would throw a large enough stone my entire world would be shattered into a million pieces. Perhaps the analogy was ridiculous since I'd flourished my entire life, taking my education and turning it into my own sense of livelihood. However, I was also worth billions because of the illegitimate acts and ruthless behavior perfected by my father.

His tactics were something he'd handed down to his children, although my sister had only been allowed to assert herself after Constantine had taken over. While only a few years older than me, my brother had taken the reins our father had given him with gusto, almost becoming a carbon copy of the patriarch. I was certain he would have had he not found the love of his life.

I'd learned a long time ago that it didn't matter how opulent the surroundings my brother, sister, and I had grown up in, we were still living in a jungle.

One of greed and criminal acts not necessarily only performed by truly bad men. However, I'd been taught to be king of the jungle just like Constantine had. I'd done so in the shadows more than in the light, but that didn't make me any less dangerous.

In fact, I was considered lethal and not just with whatever weapon suited my fancy. My father had once told me to choose my path carefully, that there were consequences for every decision made. Maybe so, but I was a take no prisoner kind of man.

It always struck me as fascinating how kids grew out of things, habits that had no place inside an adult world. I'd been a much different man at eighteen than what I'd become. Perhaps I was no longer the psychopath so many had considered me for a good portion of my life, but that didn't mean I wouldn't maim or slaughter when necessary. However, most of my annihilation was done through the use of pen and paper instead of knives and guns.

Although I continued to keep my favorite hunting knife as a way of reminding me how far I'd come in my life.

I grinned from the thought as I walked into the private dining room of one of my favorite restaurants in Kansas City. The secluded lunch had been requested by Constantine and the moment I walked into the room, I had an inkling the bottle of expensive scotch that had already been opened was an attempt to bribe me into doing something.

Unlike my father, Constantine knew better than to resort to either verbal or physical intimidation. Neither would work on me, especially now that I had almost forty pounds of muscle on the man.

When I strolled in, he ended whatever call he was on, his blue eyes twinkling from the sunlight cascading in through the floor-to-ceiling window. This was one of our favorite places to do business, a location where we didn't usually need to worry about anyone attempting to invade our privacy. The owner of the fine establishment was a good friend of the family, a man my father trusted.

That's why seeing his top two lieutenants in the room surprised me.

"Are we expecting a possible war, brother?" I asked as I approached the table, picking up the bottle of booze. Seeing it likely cost well into the four digits, I laughed softly to myself before grabbing the remaining glass. "Or is this a celebration instead?"

"Neither," Constantine told me from where he remained across the small room.

"You're going to make me ask you what it is?"

He laughed, finally taking a couple of steps closer. We were both dangerous men, feared by those inside our employ as well as our enemies. While I was usually the calm and collected one, my brother had always been a rattlesnake coiled, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. At least before. However, on this bright and sunny day, he seemed more on edge than normal.

Business had been going well, although there was always the threat of someone wanting to take away all our successes by force.

"Let's just say we need to have a frank discussion."

I brought the glass to my lips, suddenly noticing he had a plain manila file placed on the credenza next to the table. That usually meant he didn't want there to be a chance of anyone tracing whatever it was we were discussing.

"Okay. What are we discussing?" The last time we'd had a frank talk had been a couple of months before, about a new global threat that we could face in the future, a group called the Death Squad. It was nothing but a catchy title for a private organization that was even more secretive than the Brotherhood my brother had created years before.

The Death Squad was out to control the world while the alliance of some of the most powerful mafia leaders in the country was intent on keeping the peace. At least to the point of not allowing blood to rain in the streets. This wasn't like the old days when mafia organizations gunned down anyone who got in their way no matter how many innocent lives were lost, but the life was still brutal nonetheless.

I didn't like what I'd heard about the Death Squad, the fact the upper echelon of men and women controlling it remained unknown at this point disturbing. Several of what we'd call foot soldiers had been hunted down, erased from this earth, but there were hundreds if not thousands waiting in the wings to eradicate syndicates like ours.

We'd experienced our share of attacks over the years, although none recently. Still, the concerned look on his face surprised me. I'd heard nothing as of late to indicate our kingdom was under duress.

"First of all, I wanted you to know that the members of the Brotherhood believe it's time to expand our number of members."

"Is this because of the great Death Squad breathing down our necks?"

Constantine grinned. "I thought you didn't feel it necessary to take an interest in them."

"I still don't. I just figured there's a significant reason for the pomp and circumstance you're putting on here. Nice scotch."

"I thought you'd approve. Maybe this is a bit of a celebration. You'll be receiving a formal invitation to join the Brotherhood soon." My brother's grin was usually infectious but for some reason, I had a feeling another shoe was about to drop.

"Brother. You developed it and for all practical purposes are in charge of the Brotherhood. That could mean a little nepotism and bias in allowing me to join."

He laughed, lifting his glass. "Touché, brother. I can certainly understand why you'd think that way, but you've earned your spot."

"Well, I'll consider it." It wasn't that I was opposed to being on some basic council of merciless men, but I simply didn't always play well with others.

"Good. The Irish are the ones I'm most concerned about. They're attempting to slide into our territory by taking over several facilities and turning them into casinos."

The Irish clans were notorious for illegal gambling, the kind where men lost limbs and family members when debts weren't paid on time. While we both still had a penchant for violence when necessary, our resorts and casinos were on the up and up, zero illegal activities allowed inside of them. There simply was no need to risk our livelihoods because of them any longer.

"Well, I guess we develop a plan to stop them."

"I've heard, although yet to corroborate there are people coming out of Ireland, working with their brothers in the Big Apple."

"From New York?" I asked, taking another sip of the fine scotch reserve after doing so. It was a delicious treat that I wasn't used to.

He nodded. "Unfortunately, so. However, their reach is wide, especially since they've grown in numbers. We need to keep a close watch on them."

"That we can do." I studied him intently, noticing he was having a difficult time looking me in the eyes. That was odd especially for him.

"Are you hungry, because I took the liberty of ordering thick slabs of rare prime rib."

I chuckled and glanced at my watch. "At one in the afternoon? Now I know you have something up your sleeve. Spill it."

As soon as he grabbed the file, I sensed I'd been right about the other shoe being dropped. My brother was a man of decision, exactly like I was. I could tell he was debating whatever decision he'd made before telling me. When he finally placed the file on the table, he backed toward the window.

I glanced at it for a few seconds before opening the flap. It appeared to be a full dossier on the Cosa Nostra out of Italy complete with photographs of the family, the estate and grounds as well as several of the soldiers. There was also brief mention of the other five families holding territories as well, but I had no interest in learning about them at this point. "What is this?"

"This is a proposition that was dropped into my lap yesterday."

"What, running the Sicilian Cosa Nostra?" I laughed but sucked in my breath when I realized I must be close to hitting the mark. "You're serious."

"You're a perfect choice."

He finally lifted his gaze and I was certain he was joking.

But he wasn't.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

There was something foreign about the way my brother was looking at me, although I had difficulty reading his expression.

"As I said, I was provided with an interesting offer. It would seem Giovanni Rossi was unfortunate enough not to have a son, an heir to the throne. Given he is in his late sixties, he's become concerned that he won't be given an opportunity to select the person who will take over his empire."

"Whoa. Hold on. I'm confused. Are you suggesting that he requested I be the one to move to a foreign country to take over when he dies?"

"Something like that, although you wouldn't need to stay year-round."

I took a gulp of my drink this time, wishing the smooth liquor would burn my throat instead of soothe it. After swallowing, I cocked my head. "Are you fucking out of your mind? I'm not Italian. The last time I checked you weren't either."

"That's not true given our father's roots."

"Oh, come on. He came here as a boy. The entire family is more American than anything."

He moved to the table, easing onto the chair, indicating I should do the same.

While I did, I wasn't happy about it, feeling more like a caged lion than a family member at this point.

"Maybe so but you need to remember that roots of a family go deep in countries like Italy," Constantine said as he poured more scotch into both of our glasses. "Besides, from what Pops told me, he and Giovanni go way back, remaining in touch even after all these years."

This was the first I'd heard of it.

"Was that the man's reasoning for reaching out to us? Do you know him?"

"I know of him. Pops thinks highly of him and my guess is Giovanni wanted to ensure he could place trust in the man he deemed acceptable to take over. Try and think of it this way. If we accept his gesture, then that will put us into a prime position to gain additional power worldwide. It will also be good for the future of the Brotherhood."

"Hold on," I said, throwing out my hand. "Is this offer to join the Brotherhood based on my acceptance of this ridiculous proposition?" When he didn't say anything at first, I shook my head. "My God. It is. Isn't it?"

"As you well know, members are required to be leaders of their own syndicate."

"Uh-huh. And I'm a lowly second in command. This is bullshit, brother. I have a life built here and one I value highly."

"As I said, you won't need to live there but so many months of the year."

I found it interesting he was soft-selling the situation. I just stared at him, which had the effect I wanted, my larger-than-life brother becoming uncomfortable at my scrutiny and building fury. "You really want this to happen."

"I think it will be an excellent opportunity that shouldn't be bypassed easily."

"I'm very surprised, Connie." He hated it when I used the name I had as a boy but would know how angry I was. I glanced at the file, ready to toss it across the room given my heightened level of rage, until it dawned on me that no powerful leader just suddenly decided to hand over their regime and power to a stranger without there being a significant catch. I gave my brother another quick glance before returning to the file, flipping through the information until I found what I was looking for.

So I decided to read what I'd learned out loud, although I wasn't telling my brother anything that he didn't already know. "Maria Rossi, only child of Giovanni and Lucia Rossi. Noted as a highly intelligent playgirl who's lived a life of wealth and opulence. Let me guess, Constantine, Maria is considered a tasty catch."

He did nothing more than nod.

"There's a catch to this glorious offer. Isn't there?"

Constantine chuckled, once again lifting his glass in quiet reverence with a nod of respect. He'd never been able to fool me. Not for a red-hot second.

"Who is she to me in all of this?" I knew the answer, but I wanted him to say it. No, I was determined to make him spill his guts and what he'd already agreed to without my consent.

The way he was drumming his fingers on the table was about to piss me off to an entirely different level.

"Let's just say if all goes well, the beautiful and sensual Maria Rossi will become your wife."

We stared at each other for a full twenty seconds and I could swear the temperature in the room had just increased by a thousand degrees. I pushed back from the table, jerking up with enough force I knocked over the chair. I could tell by the look of surprise on the two soldiers' faces that my unusual reactions had shocked them. Too bad.

While my brother had never attempted to control either my behavior or my path in life before, I wasn't surprised that he was getting as power hungry as our father had become years before. I planted my hands on the table, leaning over and staring at him with such intensity, the cords in the side of my neck were pulsing.

"Hear me, brother. I'm not going to be used as a pawn, questioned on my loyalty to this family, or forced into doing something we both know I don't want. Let Mr. Rossi choose someone else."

I threw back the rest of my glass, slamming it on the table before taking long strides toward the door.

"Daniel. This isn't a death sentence. She is beautiful and you know it. At least meet her."

I stopped short just before walking out, taking my time to control my breathing before tipping my head over my shoulder. "You've already agreed to this. Haven't you?"

"Not to the marriage or the alliance, no. But to meeting her? Yes. Although it won't be for a couple weeks. We have time but I think it's important that you consider this carefully and what this could mean to our family and to the Brotherhood."

Why he believed this was a good idea I wasn't certain, but given he'd never asked me to do anything of this nature before, I was uncertain I could avoid meeting the girl if nothing else.

"If we don't hit it off?" I asked.

"Then we back away. It is your decision and I will honor whatever you decide."

My decision.

Somehow, I knew all along that when born into a family of this kind of corrupt power, no one was truly in control over their lives.

"Set up the meeting but I'm not promising anything."

With that, I walked out.