Held by Luna Voss
32
Melyta
Arthur Gallo steps forward. “Welcome to Dalax City,” he says simply.
“Arthur,” Barion greets him cautiously. “Quite the welcome.”
The human boss smiles, and there’s something predatory in his eyes that wasn’t there last time. Not just greed. Violence. “You’re very important people. I thought you deserved of the VIP treatment. Why don’t you come with us.”
The presence of so many armed men is ominous, even if they aren’t directly pointing their weapons at us. We follow them to where a number of black limousines are parked on the street, then climb inside one with Arthur and ride in silence through this section of city I’m not familiar with. He watches us calmly, seemingly relishing the tension.
“You’ve never been to the Gallo Family clubhouse in Dalax, have you?”
Barion shakes his head. “I didn’t realize the Gallo Family had a clubhouse in Dalax.”
“It’s new. Awarded to us by Sarizor. He’s been a very good ally.”
I stifle a gulp and sense Jenyta doing the same. I have no idea if I’m supposed to be terrified, or relieved.
We reach the clubhouse five minutes later, a large, nondescript brick building with a lot of cars and motorcycles parked outside. Arthur and his armed escort lead us in, Barion maintaining a protective arm around my waist from the moment we exit the car.
Groups of tough-looking humans stare at us as we walk through the building, and I can’t read their expressions. Curiosity? Contempt? Arthur takes us to a large, empty room with a table in the center, kind of like the gangster version of a conference room you would see in a corporate office. He gestures for us to sit and we do, Barion immediately gripping my thigh under the table.
The moment we take our seats, Arthur’s men line up behind him, holding their weapons threateningly.
“Fifteen percent of the ditrykium mine,” says Arthur. “In exchange for you as boss of the Dultaz Family.”
“And Sarizor’s head,” growls Barion. “He lives, no deal. And we agreed on ten percent.”
“I think it’s worth fifteen.”
“Get it done and we’ll talk. I don’t care how you do it. Drown him, strangle him, shoot him full of holes. If you want your ditrykium, make sure Sarizor Dultaz can’t fog a mirror.”
“Fifteen percent. I want to hear you say it.”
“That wasn’t our arrangement.”
“I’m changing our arrangement.”
Above the table, Barion gives the human mobster a cocky smirk. Under the table, he squeezes my leg tightly, his grip shaking, and I can feel his anxiety all the way to my core.
“Okay,” my husband says lightly. “You bring me proof Sarizor is dead, and I’ll cut you in fifteen percent. You want more than that, it had better come with a fucking blowjob.”
Arthur smiles, that same danger still lurking beneath his gaze, and holds out his hand. Behind him, one of his crew steps forward and passes him a backpack. The Gallo Family boss reaches inside while Barion, Jenyta, and I all watch with bated breath.
With a disgusting plop, Arthur throws Sarizor’s bleeding, severed head onto the table in front of us. It stares at us sightlessly, the eyes weirdly blank, leaking a dark, sickly red onto the polished wood. Next to me, Jenyta hides a retch.
“I believe I’ve held up my end of the bargain,” Arthur Gallo announces coldly. “We can solidify the financial details later. The Dultaz Family is missing its leader, and the Gallo Family has decided to throw its full support behind Barion Dultaz to replace him. I trust we can look forward to a long, fruitful partnership.”
With that, he exits the room.
