Heartless People

THREE

"Murder is born of love, and love attains the greatest intensity in murder."

Octave Mirbeau

LAUREN

"Someone is just a tad bit presumptuous." Chris snickered in the phone. "She's already packed, Lauren."

And sure enough, when my car pulled up to the Italian Styled mansion, I watched as some of Cabello's men placed suitcases, what I figured were Camila's things, into a white suburban near far side the house. When they noticed us, they finished as fast they could and disappeared behind the tree sculptures that lines the back. They were all the size of Chris and I couldn't help wonder how they would fit with our people. This would be the biggest merger the mafia world had ever seen. The Brazilians and the Italian were like the English and French- we had been fighting for generations.

"She is just like the rest of them," I said into the Bluetooth. "In love with Daddy's credit card. But from the looks of it, she is no worse than Lucy."

"Or your mother," Veronica said as the cars came to a stop. She couldn't deny her wife was a savage when it came to spending money. She held onto her plastic card with the laws of life, and Veronica, being the whipped bastard she was, couldn't bring herself to stop her. It would have been great if she actually spent the money on herself or the family, but no, she had to sprinkle it throughout the whole city, drawing unneeded attention at times.

Chris wife, Mina, was the complete opposite. She would walk right past a starving child and buy herself a pair of shoes. I, just like the rest of them, would have to allow Camila to shop herself crazy as long as I got what I needed.

Hanging up, I tried to resist the urge to grin like a fool. Just from getting out of my Audi, I could feel the tides turn in my favor.

"Lauren, my father said, stepping in line beside me. "You take the lead on this. I'll not interfere with whatever happens from this moment on. If you do this, you will successfully cleared all obstacles in our way, and I will allow you to take my place as Ceann na Conairte. However, until that contract is signed, they are still the enemy. Should you fail, seek comfort in your mother, for you won't find any in me."

I wouldn't fucking think of it, I thought bitterly. Outwardly, I nodded and put my business face on.

Veronica and Chris mimicked my expression. We had talked about the different scenarios this could come down to and were prepared for them all. Chris had four snipers outside, and Veronica had jammed all frequencies that we're not our own. We also had a car positioned less than a block away with men just waiting for the chance to clip the Cabello's wings. They were the enemy until the contract declared otherwise. I was more than ready to get the papers signed and continue my blood accession to Ceann na Conairte.

"Incoming," Chris declared from my left, just as the doors to the mansion opened, reveling an older, jaded looking man with a scar that ran from his forehead to his chin.

"Welcome, Jauregui's, to the Cabello Villa. Mr. Cabello is already waiting and told me to skip the formalities for the time being. I shall escort you to his office." The older man bowed as though he had come out of Downton fucking Abbey. I knew Veronica would have a laugh about that later, but for now, we were working.

I nodded, not wanting to waste time with formalities either. We all knew why we were here, and there was no need for bullshit. Usually, my father walked ahead of us, but since I was point man today, I followed the old man inside first. The house was beautiful, rich, and very fucking Italian with vintage ceramic titles, one too many statues, and the overwhelming scent of roses. It felt more like a museum to ancient than a home.