Beast I Can’t Tame by L.K. Shaw

Chapter 10

Giovanni

I stridethrough the front door of Empire, the casino owned by the organization. The barrage of bells, whistles, and ca-chings made by the slot machines slams into me. It’s the middle of the afternoon, and yet crowds of men huddle around the various game tables. Stacks upon stacks of chips are piled in front of each one of them.

Women hover at their shoulders, with their breasts shoved in the men’s faces as they offer good luck air kisses and blow their breath over closed fists before rolls of the dice. Shouts of winners and groans of losers echo around me.

Scantily clad servers with their barely there skirts and belly-baring tops glide across the carpeted area on calf-defining high heels toting liquor-filled, glass-laden trays. They drop off drinks and collect their tips before moving on.

I cross the casino floor and make my way toward the elevator that I was told will take me to the office on the private, twentieth floor. An office I’ve never been to before, and I’m not sure why I’ve been invited today.

The busy sounds dissipate the farther toward the back I get, until I enter the short hallway where the elevators are, and it’s nothing but quiet except for the low hum of the car inside making its way down. The bell rings, and the arrow above the door lights up right before it slides open. The back wall is mirrored, and the ceiling is pattered with squares of dark wood. There’s a polished pewter bar, about waist high on each of the walls, that doesn’t show a single fingerprint.

I barely glance at my reflection before pulling out the card I’d been given, sliding it into the card reader, and pressing the button marked P. In seconds, I’m moving upward toward the unknown. My stomach jerks, along with the stopping car.

This area of the casino looks entirely different from the first floor. First off, it’s utterly quiet. Second, it’s pure luxury—expensive looking, from the glass table to the elegant chandelier hanging from the ceiling. It smells new, too. The floor is hardwood and gleams with a shine. A spectacular view of the East River and Manhattan skyline is visible through the wall of tinted windows.

Midway down the hall, a door opens and Pierce steps out like he’d seen my arrival. Probably had. I’m sure casino security misses nothing. He glares hard at me from his place in the doorway. I stare back, refusing to let him unnerve me. A flash of something crosses his expression, but it’s gone before I can name it. He moves further into the room. I enter after him and stop short.

More men than I can count stand around, each one turning their head at my arrival. What are the Irish doing here?

Other faces are new to me. I can sense their stares, their distrust, and unease. Not that I blame them. I’m not entirely comfortable myself.

“Welcome, Giovanni.”

I turn at the greeting to find Jacob near the massive cherry desk similar to the one he has in his home office. Jack Donnelly, Brenna’s oldest brother, stands next to him. His expression is the friendliest so far. I move in their direction, because I’m not sure where else to go.

Pierce closes the door and positions himself against it, his glare homing in on me. What the fuck is his problem? Ignoring him, I face my boss, who begins walking around the room. My gaze follows him.

“As some of you may not be aware, recent news was brought to my attention,” he addresses each man as he passes by them.

Is he going to announce our relationship to everyone here? Is that why Pierce is acting so pissy?

“Apparently, thirty years ago, my father engaged in relations with a woman he met at a club he frequented for business. At some point, this relationship resulted in a pregnancy. One my father sought to hide from everyone—including me.” Jacob pauses, his back to me. 

Christ, he is. Does anyone else hear the hurt in his voice?

“It would seem that, after all this time, I have had a half-brother I knew nothing about.”

He turns and trains his eyes on me. I can’t get a read on him. His movement draws everyone else’s attention to me as well. Murmurs and whispers begin throughout the room as Jacob continues staring at me, letting the men, whose gazes bounce between the two of us, draw their own conclusions. The distrust in some of the faces grows stronger, while others show disbelief.

How fucking dare Jacob spring this on, not just me, but his men? Is he testing me somehow? I glare. I won’t let him, or anyone else, intimidate me. I’m not some grunt, anymore. I’m the half-brother of the head of the Brooklyn Kings. I will earn the respect of the syndicate.

“As you know”—he breaks eye contact and begins weaving around the room again—“several weeks ago we made a deal with Casimir Wöjcik. In exchange for the return of Anya Petrov, we would remain neutral in regards to the Polish’s more distasteful business practices.”

I blink. That’s it? That’s all he’s going to say regarding the previous matter?

“We’ve always honored our business arrangements. It’s how things are done,” Jacob continues. “I have no plans to change this. We are nothing without our honor.”

“The Irish, though,” Cormac, Brenna’s father, calls out from the middle of the room. All eyes turn to him. “We didn’t make any such arrangement, regardless of the alliance we formed with the Italians with the marriage of my daughter to Emilio.”

“Do the Irish have enough forces to go up against the Polish without us, though?” someone in the crowd of men asks.

“That’s what we need to figure out,” Jacob says. “We also don’t know if Donnelly is willing to reach out to any of his other allies. Everyone here, including his son and grandsons, knows that Colm only cares about two things: money and power.”

“Which means we need to come up with a plan on how starting a war with the Polish will give him the things he craves most,” Jack says.

Two hours later,we’re no closer to a solution than before the meeting began. A meeting I’m still not sure why I was invited to. Unless it was for Jacob’s dramatic non-announcement.

“It’s good to see you again, Giovanni,” Cormac shakes my hand in farewell. “Brenna has spoken highly of you over the last few months.”

“Thank you, sir,” I nearly stutter, at a loss for words.

He exits the room while Jack claps me on the shoulder before he follows his father out the door. Brenna’s other two brothers, Padraig and Nathan, trail behind with a friendly nod. It takes several more minutes before the entire group of men, some a little less icy, depart. I start to leave as well.

“Have a seat, Giovanni,” Jacob’s voice stops me.

I turn. He’s lowering himself into the throne-like black leather chair behind his desk while Pierce moves to stand against the wall. At least the latter is no longer glaring at me. I cross the room and settle into the seat opposite Jacob.

“You had some good ideas tonight,” he says, surprising me with the compliment. I wait for the but, except it doesn’t come.

“Thanks.” I’d had no idea I was coming to a strategy meeting. I’m still annoyed by how the whole thing began, though. “Was that your purpose for bringing me? Besides trying to catch me off guard with the whole announcement.”

“You joined this organization by running errands,” he says.

“Yes,” I reply, not sure where he’s going with the conversation.

“After years of hard work, you’ve moved up the ranks. While I’m sure you didn’t intend to be asked to be my wife’s bodyguard, it was position you earned with your loyalty.” He leans back in his chair. “You’re ambitious. Smart. There’s something driving you: power.”

His assessment gives me pause. I always thought I’ve been chasing that feeling of worth. Of being more than Beatrice Saccone’s son. Of being more than the kid who ran the streets, just barely avoiding getting thrown into juvie. Maybe it is power that I’ve been looking for.

“Your future elevation in this organization comes with power. But you have to earn it. It’s not going to just be given to you.”

I raise a brow. “What ‘future elevation’?”

“The one you just received by me declaring you my half-brother,” he says.

“Is that what you did?” My eyes widen in mock surprise and then narrow. “Because you never actually said those words. Our little staring contest certainly wasn’t any declaration I’ve heard before.”

To my surprise, Pierce snorts. I take a quick glance in his direction. There’s definitely a spark of amusement in his eyes.

“I didn’t have to say the words,” Jacob replies in a dry tone. “Your presence at this meeting and sharing the fact that my father was unfaithful to my mother was declaration enough.”

“Maybe for you,” I say.

He cocks his head. “It wasn’t for you?”

I shrug, because honestly I’m not sure.

“Do you expect me to take out an article and make it front page news?” Jacobs asks, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

Asshole.

“Of course not. But perhaps actually saying the words instead of letting the insinuation stand would help make every one a bit more accepting.”

He scoffs. “I could shout it from the rooftops to the entire syndicate, and no one will accept you any more or any less than they did before. You have to earn their acceptance. It’s no different than earning their respect. It won’t be just handed to you.”

I grit my teeth. He’s willfully misunderstanding my point. It doesn’t matter. I’ll make it all happen.