4

Gage

A light rapping on the closed door drew my attention and not in a good way. I'd given strict instructions not to be bothered. "Yes?" Watching as the door opened little more than a crack reminded me that I was a business owner with employees who needed occasional direction. "Come in, Molly."

She was freckle-faced and perky on normal days, her strawberry blonde hair and dancing hazel eyes always giving me a smile. Today, she seemed pensive, as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Or that she was terrified.

"What do you need?" I folded my hands across my chest, trying to shove aside my usual anger at the interruption. The kid didn't deserve my wrath.

"I'm so so-sorry to bother you, Mr. Ralph, I mean, sir. We have, I mean you have a visitor." Molly was wide-eyed, her lower lip quivering.

Only one man caused this kind of reaction: my father, the bloodthirsty bastard that he was. "Let me guess."

"Mr. Fantago didn't understand that you were busy."

"You mean he didn't give a shit." The smile on my face had nothing to do with being happy to see the man who'd spawned me.

Her face flushed, and she fidgeted with her hair, wrapping her delicate fingers around her long strands. "Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir. I mean..."

"Just send him in, Molly. After this meeting, I'll be leaving for the day. You can as well." The poor girl had no real understanding of who she worked for. Every time her doe eyes looked in my direction, I felt guilty.

"Yes, sir." She nodded out of respect, an expression of relief crowding out the near panic. "I'll show him in."

"No need." The gruff voice was right behind her, the man shoving his way past my assistant as if she was nothing more than a bother. However, he did lift his sunglasses, gawking at her ass, a sensual humming noise slipping past his pursed lips. He always had a thing for beautiful women. Another attribute we shared.

I didn't bother getting out of my chair, but I did glare at him, cognizant that his appearance inside the building meant he was more than displeased. That usually predestined that people would die. "Montego. Who do I have to thank for this amazing pleasure?"

"Cut the crap, Gage. You know exactly why I'm here." He slammed the door behind Molly, a gesture that actually forced the man to show some emotion. He was usually the cool cat, never getting his hands dirty.

He had enough goons to take care of his day-to-day business. I studied my father, resisting his line of bullshit.

"Where are we on the Scott and Santori acquisitions?" he demanded.

I held my tongue as Montego paced the room. "I'll be at the gala this evening and both Richard Scott and Caleb Santori are expected guests. They wouldn't dare defy the great Fantago mandate so I'm positive they will sign contracts."

"And if they don't, you know what you have to do."

I knew the answer, the same tactic that had always been used since his grandfather had taken the reins after a particularly ghastly turf war. "I'm perfectly capable of handling this." The only legitimate segment of my father's various business ventures had been placed in my hands. Then again, I was the only college graduate in the family. Brains versus brawn, asshole.

He moved closer to my desk, peering over, his black eyes glaring into mine. "I don't need a pussy for a son. You wanted this operation. Now, you have to do your part."

There'd been so many times I wanted to gut the man, leave him lying in a pool of his own blood, but I didn't have the backing of the underboss or any of the capos. Killing the don could mean certain death. I wasn't ready to take that chance.

At least not yet.

"Have I ever failed you?" In truth, I had never done anything against the family or especially my father that would cause any concern. But that no longer mattered. Given the recent threats from the muscle sliding in from New York, there was a distinct reason my father was on edge. He knew the score and so did I. Adding to our real estate holdings, whether occurring by legitimate methods or by using force would push what some in the business called inevitable back a few months.

Montego had a plan in motion to secure the city, in his manner, but the concept still needed time. I'd heard all the shit from one of the made men, a pin-headed kid who had no idea what he was getting himself involved with, even though he was one of the most brutal of the soldiers. The kid was an easy drunk. One day his mouth would land him in an early grave. At least the information he provided kept me in the loop. Poor Antonio. He had no idea I was using him as a pawn.

My father sneered and leaned further over my desk. "You've also done nothing to please me during the last few months. You either make this happen or I'll assign your brother to take over."

The usual backhanded threat. He wanted me riled, enraged, but he wasn't goading me today.

"This is my company, Montego. Mine." I rose very slowly to my feet, shifting until we were only inches apart. I'd always enjoyed defying the man I'd hated since I learned that my father had a gun strapped to his back instead of hero wings. My brother was much better suited for the family business and would no doubt find his way to the helm at some point. Granted, he was more of a playboy, gunning through money. Gio was also borderline psychotic, a trait I harbored in the back of my mind. I kept my eyes pinned on Montego, refusing to blink.

In an uncharacteristic move, Montego was the first one to break the line in the sand, taking a decided step backwards. "I expect to have a phone call in the morning. I suggest you find a suitable party girl for tonight. Your reputation in all areas is at stake."

Another threat. Another day. I would indeed shove a blade through my father's heart one day. I knew exactly who I was taking to the party. At least she was a woman I could trust in various regards, even if we sparred instead of talked the majority of the time.

He left my office without any additional fanfare, leaving the door open, strolling past the other employees.

Goddamn, I loathed the motherfucker.