A Dirty Business (Kings of New York #1)(12)

I tensed because this was going from bad to really bad. That was Ashton’s grandfather.

“Your father was at one of their hotels last night, up north, and he made a mess.”

I was not liking the grave look he was giving.

“What kind of a mess?”

“One that I need you to go and clean up. You’ll see when you get there.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He kept on, picking up a prune. “It will help if you have Ashton go with you. Your father’s been taking advantage of our family relationship with the Waldens and especially of your relationship with Ashton. Benny adores you, and he’s agreed that nothing will happen to your father if you yourself go up to handle it.”

That got a sharp look from me. “My father’s still there?”

He gave a nod. “I’m going to send Bobby—”

“No. I have a driver, and I’ll have Ashton. No offense against your men, but I want my own around me.”

He barely blinked at that, looking more aged for some reason. “Understood, and I do get that, but I’m not sending them up for you. I’m sending them to retrieve your father for me. You go up. Handle the situation. Smooth things over, how you see fit. You have freedom to deal with your father how you’d like, whatever way you’d like, but then I want him sent here with my boys.”

My father had really messed up.

“They can follow in their own car.”

“That’s fine. But there is another matter . . .” He hesitated. “You deal with this situation first, and the rest can be talked about after. How about that?”

I frowned. That’s not what he had been planning. I could tell. “You sure?”

He nodded, looking relieved but also worried at the same time. “Yeah. I’m sure.” He motioned to the mug in front of me. “You haven’t tried your tea. Try your tea, boy.”

I tried my tea.

I didn’t care for it, but I drank it. I ate some bread, some prunes, and when Uncle Steph asked if I wanted a second cup, I agreed because he wanted me to stay a little longer.

So I stayed.





CHAPTER ELEVEN


TRACE


Ashton’s cousin met us at the back of their hotel. He opened the door, stepped out, and greeted Ashton first. Hugs. A couple pats on the back. Ashton’s family was the opposite of mine. They had larger numbers, and there was a general love and trust for each other. There was respect and fondness between Stephano and me, but there was still distrust. I did what my uncle said because he was the closest thing I had to a father, but I wasn’t in denial of what he did.

Mafia was Mafia. The only gray area allowed was toward blood. Family members got a lot of leeway unless they went after their own family members. Our bloodline was needed to keep going, keep the family business, but even with that, I was starting to feel some chokehold pressure around my neck. It was down to me to keep the family business going. Stephano knew this. I knew this.

Everyone else, they messed up once, and the consequences were dire.

I suppose there were times I didn’t have the stomach for what we’ve done, but I didn’t allow myself to have many of those moments. It was what it was, but having said all that, I was envious of the fondness each had when Ashton stepped back and Marco Walden turned toward me. He was a few years older than us, more ingrained in their family, but as far as I knew, he was the one who oversaw all their hotels.

The fact that Benny, their grandfather and the head of their family, was the one who’d reached out to Stephano told me they were done with my father. Blood would need to be spilled to make sure my father knew they would not be giving him any more allowances. This was a very major fuckup on my father’s end, but it was one that’d been coming for so long I wasn’t surprised to be in this position. Ashton would’ve been called in for this anyway. They were showing respect by giving the message to Stephano, who’d handed it down to me. When I’d called Ashton, he’d just gotten his own call from his family.

Everyone was aware of what would need to be done.

“Tristian.” Marco held a hand out, and I met it with mine as we half hugged, clapped each other on the back at the same time. “It’s good to see you. You and my coz need to come up and spend more time with us.”

I nodded, stepping back. “You name the time, and we’ll be there.”

He tipped his head up, laughing. “Yeah, right. You and Ashton here are building your own empire. We hear the rumors. We know both of you are doing just fine. Huh?” He clasped Ashton’s shoulder, giving it a good-natured squeeze. “Am I right? You and Tristian here, both the golden princes of our families. We’re proud of you. You hear that? Proud.” His tone grew thick with that last word, and he blinked a few times. “Real proud, Ashton. Grandpop says it, but you need to hear it more than you do.”

Ashton was blinking a few times too. “Thanks, Marco.”

“Yeah.”

I waited a beat, giving them a second before I cleared my throat. Ashton saw his family on the regular, but it wasn’t as regular as they’d like. That was because of me. He was firmly in our in-between world, focusing on our businesses. Or that’s what they felt was the reason. That he chose our friendship over them: there was a grain of contention underneath everything because of that fact. That contention was not known to my uncle or my father. It was known only to me, Ashton, and Ashton’s family.