Cruel Betrayals (Savannah Sharks Hockey and Mafia #3)

Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

JOSEPH

I stare at Nick Valentino through the screen of my computer.

“Have you found workers to help with the warehouse?”

He glances to the side at whatever caused the banging. “Yeah. Four of my cousins have moved down here to help run things.”

“And things will still run smoothly up in New York?”

“Oh, yeah. My family is enormous. There are probably still a dozen more cousins living in New York, not to mention second cousins.”

“Great, because it’s going to be all hands on deck until we have all the kinks worked out and a steady flow of cash and product.”

“Don’t worry. We are ready for the long nights and heavy lifting as soon as we get the permits back.”

“Are you applying pressure to the inspector like Dad advised?”

“Every single day. Your father bribed him enough to buy that yacht he’s been eyeing.”

“Perfect. That’s what we like to hear. Once we are done with the inspector, we will switch targets to the police chief. We need him on our side to extend our reach to the entire city.”

His eyes widen. “I thought we were just targeting the clubs at the beach.”

“For starters, but we always need to be looking to the future. If we have several steady streams of clients, then our earning potential will be infinite.”

“That will mean we need more manpower.”

“Eventually, yes. If you want to keep it in your family, you can always bribe your cousins by seeing babes in bikinis all the time. They will probably jump on the next plane down.”

“That’s a great idea. It was like pulling fucking teeth to get the four to move down here until they spent an afternoon at the club.”

My phone chimes with a message from Dad.

I need you downstairs. The contractor is here to go over the necessary repairs.

I sigh. “My presence is needed downstairs.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Temporarily. You remember how Giuseppe Rossi had his men shoot at my father and his assistant a few days ago as they were entering the arena? Well, Dad thinks it’s necessary to replace all the doors and windows with bulletproof glass.”

“I can’t say I blame him.”

“Yeah, except games start back next week, so we are really pushing the timeline here.”

“You go handle that, and I’ll go eat dinner.”

We say our goodbyes and end the video call. Nick and I have been having daily update calls to go over everything. I want to show Dad I’m more than capable of running things while expanding into new territory.

I grab my phone and head downstairs to where Dad and Alvin are sitting in the living room with a man who appears to be in his fifties.

Dad stands. “Joey, this is Dean. He’s the contractor that’s going to replace all the windows and doors.”

I shake the man’s hand before heading to the bar cart to pour myself a scotch. “Nice to meet you.”

Alvin chimes in. “We were just discussing the timeline and the importance of keeping the public unaware of the true reason for the glass change.”

Dean interrupts. “Ah, yes, about that.” He pulls out several sheets of artwork from his briefcase. “I had these mockups done today. We can change the artwork if you don’t like them.”

He hands me a sheet. The mockups show the arena windows and doors with our team’s logos and colors on them.

Dean continues. “These are durable and weatherproof. We can easily change them out every year if you want.”

“And these can be placed on the bulletproof glass?” I ask.

“Absolutely. I thought having custom windows would be a reasonable excuse to tell the community as to why you are renovating in the middle of the season. We will put these logos on in the warehouse and bring the glass panes to the arena on install day.”

“How long will it take to prepare all the windows and install them? We have games starting back next week.”

“If you give me the go ahead, my team will get started on it today and we can install them Monday and Tuesday. We will start with the common area windows and end with the office windows.”

I glance at Dad to gauge his expression. It’s blank, as if he’s wanting me to step in and make the decision.

“The install needs to be on Saturday and Sunday. That will give you today and tomorrow to get the mockups printed and the glass cut. You already have every window and door dimension, so it shouldn’t be too hard to make it happen.”

“We are closed on the weekends. My men deserve the time off.”

Doesn’t he know we are a high paying client? Our schedule doesn’t conform to the typical nine-to-five workday.

“I will pay double your going rate to make sure it fits in our timeline. You can always give your crew Monday and Tuesday off.”

He thinks about my offer for a moment before glancing around the room at Dad and Alvin.

This amount of money will be hard to turn down, especially since there are other contractors that want our business and will be willing to work on the weekend.

Dean nods his head and shakes my hand. “We have a deal.”

Alvin says, “Call me Saturday morning and I’ll make sure the arena is unlocked for you. If you need any other measurements, just let me know and we will let you back in.”

Dean glances at all of us before saying, “Thank you. I appreciate everything. I’ll let the team know of their new schedule and we will make sure everything looks perfect when we are finished.”

Alvin says his goodbyes and walks Dean out, leaving Dad and me alone.

“You handled that very well. I’m proud of you.”

My heart swells with pride. The last time Dad said he was proud of me was after my first kill, and that was over a decade ago.

He continues. “I know you want more responsibilities and a bigger role in the organization. If you keep maturing and handling things like you just did, then I have no doubt you will be able to handle more.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I sit down in my normal seat and take a swig of my drink.

“That brings to another reason I needed to see you.” Dad doesn’t sit down. He turns away from me and stares at the picture of him and mom that’s sitting on the mantle.

“What’s going on?”

If this concerns Mom, shouldn’t Francesca be here?

Dad lays the picture face down. I wouldn’t want reminders of the biggest lie of my life staring at me. Dad hasn’t dealt with the emotion and pain of finding out Mom faked her death in order to be with Giuseppe.

I doubt he ever will.

“I want you to oversee the new shipment coming in tonight. You will need to scan each pallet in and do a complete inventory of everything.”

The shipment tonight is just furniture, so I don’t know why I have to do it, but he is adamant.

Dad sits in the chair opposite of me. “You will also be training a new guy, so it may take longer than normal.”

What the fuck? Why is a new guy starting on a Thursday night? What is Dad hiding from me?

“If anyone shows up, hide or leave, but don’t try to fight over the inventory, that’s what insurance is for.”

This doesn’t make sense. Why would anyone show up, and why would I just hand over the shipment?

“Who would show up tonight, and why would it matter? It’s just furniture.”

Dad doesn’t seem normal. Maybe he just doesn’t want to work at the shipyard tonight.

It is Mom’s birthday.

I’ve stayed busy, so I wouldn’t think about all the lies we’ve recently uncovered. I want to hate her. I do a little, if I’m being honest, but she did it for love. I’ve tried to put myself in Mom’s shoes all day.

Would I fake my death to be with Alexandra?

Would I walk away from the family I created?

No matter which way I look at things, my answer is no. I wouldn’t put my children through the pain and sorrow for my own selfish wants like she did. Not in this day and age where divorces are more common than marriage.

“Have you heard from Francesca today? She didn’t answer my call earlier.” I ask, changing the subject.

“I didn’t even reach out. She needs time to grieve and heal.”

“It’s not like she did anything wrong. Mom would have shot her first. It was self defense.”

“Well, you know your sister. It takes her longer to deal with things. Give her space and she will call us if she needs anything. Rhett is there with her, so I know she’s safe.”

She’s been MIA all day. It’s not like her to not answer my text messages or phone calls.

“Yeah, I guess. Well, I guess I need to be heading out.”

Dad grunts in response.

I head to the garage and hop in my sports car. I drive toward the shipyard with the windows down and my music turned up.

Dad’s been pissed all day, barely speaking to me. And Alexandra has avoided me for several days.

She’s closer to Dad nowadays. It’s almost weird. She sits in on every meeting, even the ones that don’t involve the family business.

At first, I figured it was because she was interested in the team events, but now, I’m not so sure. She’s always taking notes and texting someone.

When I get to the shipyard, I park in my normal parking spot and get out in search of the new guy.

I look everywhere, but the only other person is Brian, the normal night worker. “Have you seen the new guy?”

Brian turns off the forklift. “What’s his name?”

“No fucking clue. I was told I need to train the new guy with the new shipment.”

He shrugs. “I don’t know of anyone starting tonight. Why would he start in the middle of the week and do a night shipment?”

“That’s what I wondered.”

“So I guess it’s just you and me tonight.”

I look around the empty shipyard and say, “It’s looking that way.”

Grabbing my phone, I send Spencer a message.

Sorry to ask on such a short notice, but can you help with tonight’s shipment? It’s just Brian and me.

He immediately replies.

On my way. Do I need to get Rhett?

No. He’s dealing with something more important.

More important than an understaffed shipyard when we are getting a shipment?

I’ll explain when you get here.

Spencer shows up and parks next to me.

“Where the hell is everyone?” He asks as he jogs over to me.

“No clue. Dad said a new guy was starting tonight, but he’s a no show.”

He raises an eyebrow. “He’s starting on a Thursday night?”

Brian gives Spencer a head nod. “Hey that’s what I said.”

The lights from the cargo ship illuminate the shipyard even more than the yellow hazed city provided lights do.

“Showtime.” I say before grabbing a pair of work gloves from the building.

Spencer and I get the cargo ship tied up while Brian gets the pallets unloaded.

“Are we doing a full inventory of the order?” Spencer asks, as Brian does circles around him in the forklift.

I roll my eyes. “That’s what the boss requested.”

As soon as I turn around, headlights turn into the shipyard.

Spencer points. “How many new guys were starting tonight?”

Turning around, I see three black Mercedes pull into the parking lot. “That’s Giuseppe and his men.”

Several more cars show up behind the three Mercedes.

Reaching into my waistband, I pull my gun out, but Rossi’s men already have guns on us.

“Shit.” Spencer whispers from beside me.

Giuseppe Rossi’s right hand man, Vincent, steps out of the last car. “Leave, and no one gets hurt.”

How the fuck did he know about this shipment? Did Dad know they were going to show up tonight?

I glance at Brian and Spencer. “Let’s go.”

“What?” they both say in unison.

“I said let’s go. We are severely outnumbered, and it’s not worth putting up a fight.”

Vincent cackles. “Smart man.”

I wait until Spencer and Brian leave before following them. I race home, ignoring the stop lights and speed limit signs.

By the time I get home, I’m raging. I slam the door behind me and yell, “Dad?”

“In here.” He calls from the kitchen.

“What the hell was the purpose of sending me to the shipyard if you knew they were coming?” I confront Dad.

“I didn’t know anyone was going to show up.” He is way too calm for his entire shipment to have just been stolen.

“So you warned me just because?”

“This shipment was the first one you checked in by yourself, and I know how stubborn and heated you can get when you think you are right. We will file an insurance claim and get it all back.”

“That’s it?”

Has today really fucked with Dad this badly? This isn’t his normal response.

“No, that’s not it. I called the police.”

“How did you know Rossi and his men were there?”

“Giuseppe wasn’t there. Well, according to Brian.”

“You know what? You can keep your secrets and continue lying to me. I’m going out.”

I don’t really have anywhere to go, but I can go hang out with the guys in the apartment’s recreation room. They are always there playing pool, shooting darts, and hanging out.

I slam the door behind me like I’m an angry teenager and peel out of the driveway.

The further I can get away from the house, the better I will feel.