"He has his reasons."
"Of course he does. Whatever, Armando. You can tell the good senator that neither I nor my father is going to play ball. If he has a problem with that, tell him to come to me directly."
"Talk to your father. Please."
I grew tired of bothering with the man. I had more important things to do. "You have two hours in which to make your decision. Then I'll be coming back for you and trust me, when I do, you don't get another reprieve."
I'd been fully aware that the man wouldn't offer up anything on a silver platter. Blackmail? Yeah, the thought was intriguing. What in the fuck could the senator have on my family? At minimum, my conversation with Armando would serve as a warning that the Francesco family wasn't to be fucked with. I took long strides out of his office, grimacing the entire way down the elevator. Our entire world was unraveling. Michael had indeed been right. Calling the entire alliance back was the only chance we had. Together we would fight and win this war.
But not without bloodshed. The bastards would soon learn our combined wrath was much worse than they'd anticipated. I ignored the volley of calls on my cell phone, at least for now. I needed to get the suggested meeting place and develop the final phase of a plan that had formed in my mind after meeting with Armando. Michael needed to spill everything he knew before I had a conversation with my father. The assholes who were really in charge, using Axel as a decoy were still greedy sons of bitches. Making an offer they couldn't refuse should bring them out in the open. The only way to do that? Offer a deal that appealed to their sense of greed and blood lust.
There wasn't a man or woman on this earth who didn't have a price, whether fortune, fame, or even health. For these bastards, they wanted skin in exchange for a few precious lives. My belief had been reinforced with Armando's treachery. If I played this right, the true leader wouldn't be able to resist what I had to offer, thereby highlighting a weakness.
What Michael hadn't told me was the source of his information or the actual leader in this case. He'd purposely kept the items off the phone. As if the Feds had tapped the phone lines. They hadn't wasted their time on that objective in years, but I understood his hesitation. The Feds weren't the only ones with the technology.
I'd suggested a meeting place far removed from any known location. My father had recently acquired a group of warehouses in order to turn them into condominiums. His attempt at turning legit. The location near Orland Park wasn't ideal, but his vision given they were on the water a far cry from his usual agenda. Fortunately, only basic renovations had started, a delay in city planning somewhat of a surprise. However, the holdup left the area relatively secluded.
I was only somewhat surprised to see two vehicles parked in front of the only building that hadn't been gutted. Michael's tone of voice had told me everything I needed to know. He was worried and his kingdom was far removed from the bastards attempting to take down various regimes.
Or was it?
I was beginning to think there were grandiose plans the likes our five cities had never experienced. There would always be men like Axel seeking to wear a crown of blood and bones, but few had the kind of resources in order to do so. That included a hefty bank account. I couldn't begin to estimate the dollars needed to try to take over a base as large as the Midwest.
I had the distinct feeling I was about to find out.
If the limited information Michael had provided was true, that would have taken months to plan.
I strode into the warehouse and within seconds heard the deep baritone voice coming as a warning.
"Stop right there, fucker, or you're going to meet your maker."
I grinned almost involuntarily, the Russian's voice full of angst. "I suspect that's going to happen any day already."
He laughed, moving out of the shadows. "I would say good to see you again, but not under these circumstances."
"Yeah, what the fuck is going on?"
"Come. Michael has secured at least some pertinent information." Aleksei led me into one of the other rooms, the parking lot and limited access in full view.
I darted a glance toward the water, marveling in the wave action given the heady wind. For some reason, I could only think about dumping a body or two into the murky depth. "Spill it, Michael. I've had a rough couple of days. If you called Aleksei, then you were serious about your concerns."
Michael took a deep breath, shooting Aleksei a hard look. "I did as much checking as I could after I called you. I got wind from more than one source that the Russians are attempting to move in on my territory. Two of my longtime customers were found dead in their stores yesterday, their throats slit, crude burns placed on their cheeks."
"A classic Bratva signature," Aleksei added.
"Bratva," I said under my breath. While that's exactly what Michael had alluded to, my body still bristled from the thought. Aleksei was born into a true Bratva family, his father getting an offer he couldn't refuse when Aleksei was a boy. While the Petrov family was considered brutal by the majority of mafia standards, they weren't savages like the original Bratva families from Russia. "Some asshole group considered your rival, Aleksei?"
Another look was shared between the two.
"Nyet," Aleksei hissed. "Chertov ublyudki." He pumped his chest before lifting his middle finger. When I lifted my eyebrow, he snarled. "Fucking bastards," he repeated.
"Who are they?" My gut told me exactly who they were, but I needed one or both of them to utter the name.
"Solntsevskaya," Michael said quietly.
"The same assholes who threatened the East Coast months ago?" I heard the hollow sound of my voice. This was the last thing Chicago needed. If it was true, the fuckers had balls.
"The very ones although the prized possession of the family is in charge. Konstantin Solntsevskaya. He has been groomed since a small boy to take over for his father." Aleksei sneered after issuing the words.
"And he's been spotted in several locations in the United States," Michael added.
"What the hell does he want with Chicago? Isn't New York or Philadelphia more to his liking?" I asked, half laughing until I noticed the third look shared between the men. "Fucking spill it."
Aleksei took a step forward, looking me dead in the eyes. "He doesn't want only your little city."
"Then what the hell does he want?"
"The entire country." Aleksei kept his tone even.
I sucked in my breath. "Wait a minute. This Russian asshole thinks he can take over all five bureaus?"
"Take a look. I called in some favors. Have a few CIA agents on my payroll," Michael said softly as he handed me a thick manila folder.
By the time I finished glancing through the photographs, which went as far back as nine months, I was shaking from rage. "What. The. Fuck?"
"The shit that went down in Philadelphia was merely a trial run," Aleksei chortled. "Then the entire clan seemed to disappear. I should have known better. They were lying in wait, adding to their wealth."