Mafia

Deals

"Sleeping, look after her until I get back," Turning her dark eyes to him as he stopped in front of him, Talya who was close to his height, pressed her lips to his cheek and squeezed his hand. 

"Be safe, we'll take care of her," He nodded and stepped back, glancing over at Vigo who had Irina in his arms and was talking quietly to her, her head moving slowly up and down as her eyes drifted towards the stairs as Talya's had. 

"We need to go," Vigo turned to him, gave an affirmative nod and leaned in to kiss his wife before dropping his arms from around her and they both moved towards the door in unison. 

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Franco Villanueva looked at his father, he looked tired as if he had aged another ten years in the past week alone. After the news of Mikhail Lenkov's murder had reached them, Franco had suspected his brothers involvement, but at the time he had refused to think Romero to be that stupid. Now that it was all but confirmed, Franco knew there was no easy solution to this, and clearly so did his father. 

Carlos Villanueva had been the head of the Villanueva-Cartel for nearly five decades, he had built his empire from the bottom-up, and despite his reputation as a ruthless and merciless man, Carlos had always protected his family. The father of five, two boys and three girls, now all grown, it seemed one or the other had to give. Volkov's demand had been simple; hand over Romero and war would be avoided, so his father was left with two impossible choices. Sacrifice his son or risk the entire empire. 

"He fucked up papa, but he is still family," Franco didn't like defending his idiot brother in this situation, but no matter his fuck-ups, he was still his little brother. 

"I know that Franco, he is my son, but this is not a war we can win." If it had just been the Syndicate they may have been able to withstand it, however now Luca Valente was involved as well and everyone knew he would side with Volkov should a war come to hence. 

"So we sacrifice him?" Franco did not like this, personally he wanted to wring Romero's neck if he only knew where the little shit had run off too, but sacrificing his own blood left a bad taste in his mouth. 

"If the situation was reserved mi hijo, would you not make the same demand?" Franco clenched his jaw and turned his eyes to stare out the window of his father's living room. His mother was long dead, his sisters spread wide and far and for the past five years it had been only his father in the large mansion he had grown up in. 

"There must be some way around it," Franco insisted, refusing to admit defeat until all options were explored. 

"Valente is sitting in as mediator tonight, perhaps we will come to some other agreement, but you need to prepare, you know how this world works. Blood must have blood." Yeah, Franco knew how it worked, and he fucking hated it because his father was right. Dmitri Volkov had taken Elena Lenkov under his protection, made it known wide that he demanded retribution for Mikhail and his wife and he would go to war to get it, and he was entailed to that retribution. 

"We will try, Franco, to find a way to spare your brothers life." He knew the promise was empty, his fathers way of attempting to soothe his own pain at what was likely to happen that night. 

As they left the house and headed for Vincente's where the meeting would happen, Franco praid Romero had the good sense to leave the country and never return again, it might be the only way for him to survive the hell about to head his way. 

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Ana