Chapter 262
[ 477 words ]
Chapter 262:
The seven thugs fanned out, forming a tight semicircle around the black sedan. They slapped their steel pipes against their palms, their eyes locked on Caroline.
Rocco staggered out of the alley last. Two men held him up. His face was covered in blood, and his broken wrist dangled uselessly.
Rocco pointed his good hand at Caroline.
“Grab that bitch!” Rocco roared, spitting blood onto the street. “I’m going to break both her legs myself!”
Alston did not flinch.
𝗣𝘰p𝘂𝗹𝘢𝗿 𝗌tо𝗿𝗂𝗲ѕ 𝗼𝘯 g𝖺𝘭nоve𝘭ѕ.𝖼𝗈𝗺
He smoothly pushed Caroline and Beatrice behind his broad back. He stood between them and the mob of armed men, his posture radiating absolute, terrifying calm.
Caroline’s mind raced. She recalled a heavily redacted file she’d skimmed years ago on D.C.’s power players. Before becoming K Street’s most feared litigator, Alston Petersen had made his name as a young lawyer defending the rival Marconi family against the Gallos in a massive RICO case. He knew these thugs. He knew their language.
Alston reached up and casually adjusted the collar of his black silk shirt. He looked at Rocco with eyes full of aristocratic boredom.
“Rocco,” Alston said. His voice was slow, heavy, and dripping with a thick, authentic New York Mafia accent. “Has the Gallo family really sunk so low that you’re hunting women in the street?”
Rocco froze.
He squinted at the tall man in the silk shirt. Hearing his own name and his crime family’s title spoken with such casual authority rattled him.
“Who the hell are you?” Rocco demanded, his voice losing some of its bravado.
Alston smirked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a heavy silver Zippo lighter, flipping the lid open and shut with a sharp clink.
“I’m the guy sitting at the table upstairs,” Alston lied flawlessly, using deep-underworld slang. “I’m the envoy from the Five Boroughs. We’re supposed to close a ten-million-dollar transit deal tonight.”
Alston pointed the lighter at Rocco.
“These two women are my personal guests,” Alston warned, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “If you want to blow a ten-million-dollar deal because your ego got bruised by a girl, go ahead. Make your move. But my boss will have your head in a box by morning.”
Rocco’s face turned pale.
He knew there was a massive syndicate meeting happening in the VIP Lounge tonight. He couldn’t risk starting a war with the New York families.
Rocco looked at Caroline’s cheap jeans and ponytail. He frowned in suspicion.
“That cheap trash is your guest?” Rocco sneered. “She looks like a street rat.”
Alston did not miss a beat.
He reached his long arm behind his back, grabbed Caroline firmly by the waist, and pulled her hard against his side.
He leaned down, pressing his face intimately close to her ear.
“I like my women with a little fire, Rocco,” Alston said smoothly, his eyes locked on the gang leader. “Do I need to explain my bedroom tastes to a street-level enforcer?”
Caroline’s entire body went rigid.
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