Mafia Games

Chapter 30

Xander's POV

Finally, a lead.

After months of wondering who the fuck was targeting our family, we finally managed to get a hold of fresh information.

The worse part of this entire ordeal was that the truck hijack wasn't all that they did. Over these last few months, many incidents continued to occur.

Our farms getting burned down, our men popping up dead in random locations and the perpetrators for the entire thing still hidden. It pissed me the fuck off. Every time we would be close to piecing everything together, the information would scatter and the searching would start all over again. I hated getting toyed with the most and these people were purposely leading us on a goose chase.

But not this time. We've finally got them where we wanted them, and it was time to get answers.

Juicy's Bar and Grill.

A popular bar downtown that's been thriving for years. As I pushed through the door with Andrei and Jackson behind me, I was met with many hostile stares.

The bar was packed with people and music was playing in the background. Big burly men stood around the pool tables, their muscular arms lined with tattoos flexing as they observed me cautiously, decked out in a nicely tailored suit. I stuck out like a sore thumb.

This looked like your average biker's hangout.

I walked towards the bar and pulled out a stool to sit, Andrei and Jackson choosing to stand on each side of me.

The bartender who was busy dealing with a customer glanced at us furtively and I didn't miss the way his hand disappeared beneath the counter for that brief second when he was reaching for a drink.

My eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

When he was finished, he walked over to us with an easygoing smile. He was a tall dark guy. Well built with tattoos littering his arms. There was a name tag on his shirt that had the name 'Jalen' written on it.

"Hey boys, what can I get for you?"

My eyes strayed towards the tattoo on his neck that was peeking out slightly from under his T-shirt. It looked to be some sort of wing design.

"Whiskey on the rocks," I said. "Three of 'em."

"Got you." He turned around and reached for the glasses, spreading them on the counter in front of us. Then he added the ice and poured the drink. "Anything else?"

I nodded and took up my glass, taking a brief sip before resting it down. "Not bad. I have a question."

The bartender crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, seemingly unbothered by my presence. Yet I knew for a fact that he knew who I was. He nodded. "Shoot your question."

"What do you know about crows?"

I gauged his reaction carefully but he remained completely calm. There wasn't a single crack in his mask. This was a professional.

He shrugged. "They're birds of vengeance, yeah? What about them?"

"That's what they mean for you? Is that why you have the wings tatted on your neck?" I gestured towards his tattoo.

His smile widened. "It's a family tradition. Crows are cunning and witty. You got to learn to love 'em, right?"

"Hmm, I've come to realize." I acknowledged, taking up my glass to down the entire thing. I then slid the glass over to him. "How much do I owe you?"

"$32."

I nodded, reaching into my back pocket to pull out my wallet. Instead of my wallet though, I took my gun out of its holster and quickly raised it to point at the bartender's head.