I groan. Fucking hell, what is it with these guys and sticking their noses into business that doesn’t concern them?
I reach for the drawer to my right, and Carlo watches carefully with squinted eyes as I place a metal rectangular box on the table.
“Phone,” I tell him, opening the lid and throwing my own inside. I have a scrambler in this office, but I don’t trust phones. The amount of evidence The Court has collected on people they’ve blackmailed, bribed, or just gone after for the fun of it—all retrieved from their personal devices—explains the paranoia.
Carlo eyes the box and then takes his phone out of his pants and places it next to mine. I close the lid and tap the button on top.
“It works like a cloak of sorts. Your phone will ping to a tower on the other side of the city, and it won’t be able to hear shit that we say right here.”
“You think I came here to record you?” Carlo asks.
“Not you. But I know people can get into these devices and hear whatever they want, wherever they want.” I shrug.
“Okay, so what is it? What’d you do?”
“I voted against something they wanted to motion,” I say.
“Okay, so take back your vote and make nice with them again,” he tells me.
“It’s not that easy. I can’t vote for what they want.”
“What is it they want?” he asks
“You, on death row,” I reply. “Along with your two business associates.”
“Your parents are dead, and now you’re risking your own life because you voted against The Court coming after me?” He sounds almost shocked.
“Don’t let it go to your head. I didn’t do it for you. I did it for her.” I know Carlo Bianchi has never been a fan of mine. He hated that his daughter was friends with me.
“I’m well aware. Tell me, if you love her so much that you’re prepared to risk your life, why the fuck did you ghost her?” he grits out between clenched teeth.
I smile. “Remember her prom date? The quarterback.”
“He went missing around the time of prom.” Carlo nods.
“The Court ensured that was the story, the fact he just went missing,” I explain. “I couldn’t let her be around me once I knew the extent of my family’s involvement.”
“And now?”
“Nothing has changed. She needs to be kept well away from me.”
Carlo laughs. “If you ghost my daughter again, if you break her heart again, Jacob, I’ll make sure you become an actual ghost.” He stands and walks out, leaving me staring after him.
What the fuck?
Chapter Seventeen
It’s been five days since I’ve seen Jake. I wanted to go back to his house, to talk to him. Comfort him. But whenever I try, I get stopped by my father’s goons. And if it’s not by his goons, then by my Tío E’s. Including my cousin Emilio who is afreaking teenager. I shouldn’t be being told what I can and can’t do by a damn teenager.
“You can’t go, Jazzy,” my cousin says, as if reading my mind.
“And you’re not my father. Get out of my way, Emilio, before I hurt you,” I tell him.
The little shit laughs at me. Actually laughs at my threat. “Give it your best shot,” he says, tapping his chin.
I groan. I’m not a fighter. I never have been. But right now, I really want to wipe the smirk off my little cousin’s face. Taking a deep breath, I try to find some kind of inner peace.I will not punch my cousin.
“Move,” I tell him.