Page 9 of Between Passion and Revenge: Part Two

And no one knows this more than me and the man sitting in front of my glass-and-steel desk.

“I’ll speak on behalf of all of us and say I’m sorry for your loss,” I start, noting The Bear’s expression. Damiano “The Bear” Lorio arrived at the Stratos Global offices with six guards, a chip on his shoulder the size of Brooklyn, and a look so cold it could freeze my face off.

Granted, the head of the Lorio Family just lost his son in a tragic boating accident caused by bad business decisions last week, so his frostiness is somewhat understandable.

The Bear tilts his chin down in acknowledgement, his eyes going around the room as if surprised I’d meet him alone.

“However, Damiano,” I say, giving him a closed-lipped smile. “You have to acknowledge Luigi made some dangerous decisions—decisions heknewwere incompatible with…continuing to exist in this dimension.”

Namely, he decided to undercut our million-dollar cocaine deal with subpar product, delivering shit cut with Fentanyl and some other trash.

“Luigi knew the terms of our deal, Damiano. He didn’t deliver on the agreement. Think of the reputational harm. What do you think would happen if a princess from some small European country were partying with my people, only to drop dead becauseyour sondecided to give me bunk, street shit like I’m serving goods to Skid Row? Seriously, Damiano.”

The Bear’s deep voice could challenge Barry White’s.

“Are you suggesting the Lorio family knowingly delivered poor goods?”

I keep my eye on the Italian.

“Knowingly or not, the responsibility fell on Luigi’s head. Furthermore, he refused to make it right,” I say, trying, and probably failing, to be diplomatic.

I hate this shit.

“You tried to extort ten million from us, Sandoval,” he says, spitting my name like a curse.

“It was fair restitution,” I say, gritting my teeth but still smiling.

“Ten times the value of the shipment?” The Bear says. I note he’s more upset about the money than the fact that his son gotgot.

I splay my hands out, leaning forward when The Bear jerks closer to me over the table.

“You seem to have forgotten your place, boy. Your uncle?—”

“My uncle,” I say, my voice cracking like lightning, “isn’t the one you need to worry about.”

The Bear rolls his shoulders, jerking his neck from side to side as if gearing up for battle.

“The cost is inequitable. And that will have to be rectified,” he grinds out.

I go still, silent. Where he’s cold, I flame hot, feeling rage enough to burn everyone to the ground.

“I know what you’re thinking: An eye for an eye and all that machismo bullshit. You’re probably hoping to gun me down and take out the rest of the office building.”

I tap the screen embedded in the desk in front of me, pulling up the live feed of Lorio properties.

“But here’s the problem with that. I have enforcers standing by at each of your warehouses, every brothel you own in the city and in New Jersey, and—” I use two fingers to enlarge the drone view of the primary Lorio estate where Damiano’s wife kneels over her tulips in their garden. “Teresa’s found quite a passion with horticulture, has she not?”

The Bear growls, but I continue.

“But!” I say, leaning back in my chair and bringing my hands together in front of my mouth, resting my index fingers on my lips. “We don’t have to escalate things to this point. First, no one wants wholesale bloodshed. It’s bad for business. Second, there’s another option, and I think you know this, Dami.”

The Bear glares at me with cold malice.

“We don’t have to be partners, but we don’t have to be enemies. I’m even willing to waive the additional seventeen million you now owe me due to late fees. You only owe me the ten million, and I’ll even give you an hour to wire it to us.” I tap the screen, then blink as The Bear’s phone pings. He looks down at the screen and scowls at the message: wire instructions, as if we were closing on a home loan and not discussing blood money.

“But let’s look at it like this, Dami: You stay in your business, and I’ll stay in mine. Once you run me the money you owe me, everything will be straight. But if youdon’twant to go that route,well…” I tilt my chin toward the screen, where a red dot appears on the back of his wife’s hat-covered head.

The Bear looks infuriated, but appropriately cowed. Still, I don’t put anything past the Lorios. I know even if we both agree to be neutral to each other, this meeting is a turning point for everyone.