Page 122 of Cartel Devil

I look at my family. While none of them are eager, they all nod. Tío Enrique grimaces while he nods, but once he approves it, I’m willing to accept the help.

“Fine, Salvatore. Carmine, fuck me over on this, and I will make your wife a widow.”

I bet Salvatore’s giving Carmine a look to stay silent.

“If you dig into your future in-laws and get caught, it’ll ruin any peace you could have with them. Carmine will look there.”

“Thank you.”

I nearly choke on the two words, but I get them out. Egos aside, I appreciate the Mancinellis’ assistance. It’s for Tre’s sake, so I’ll take help wherever I can get it. I can even trust Carmine because he’d never intentionally disappoint Sera. For all the man’s faults, of which there are at least a million, you will never find a more devoted husband who believes his wife walks on water.

The call ends with Carmine agreeing to touch base in two days. Jorge brought my laptop bag into the study when he arrived. We sit beside each other on a surprisingly sturdy loveseat. It never looks like it can support over four hundred pounds when any two of us sit on it, but we’ve raced to get seats on it since we were teens. Right now, my youngest brother and I work side by side. Between Jorge and me, we’ll soon know what’s going on.

So far, we’ve spent most of our time focused on the Torettas’ offshore assets. There’s been plenty to keep us busy since the man likes to hide his money like he’s the Pope guarding the Vatican treasures. We’ve looked into Francesco and his parents. His father is Sylvia’s uncle through her dad, the late Don Alberto.

We’ve also looked at his underboss, consigliere, capos, enforcers, and all the way down to the tweens he has working for him as messengers and runners. We found a few things of interest that we can use for blackmail if needed.

However, none of it has been conclusive. But with Salvatore’s veiled insinuations of some scandal or disagreement, we’ll branch out even further in case he’s hiding money through someone well outside his family. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s using a low-level guy to shield him.

My brother and I work in silence for twenty minutes while the others discuss a couple of new businesses we want to acquire in Jackson Heights. We’re actually not strong-arming anyone this time. They’re failing businesses. If we buy them out, we’ll pay generously. It’ll be more than the current owners would make before they die.

“Jorge, look at this.”

I turn my laptop toward my youngest brother, and he leans over to look.

“Could you get any closer? You’re fogging up my screen. Admit you need fucking glasses, hermanito.”

I’ve been calling Javier and Jorge “little brother” ever since I was barely in preschool, and they were still toddlers. Mamá told me I wasn’t allowed to call them babies anymore, so I had to come up with something, and that stuck.

“Those are healthier stock investments than someone with this much credit card debt should be making.” Jorge immediately recognized what I discovered.

“That’s what I was thinking too.”

I’m in a third-class enforcer’s bank account. I can see he’s living as though he’s got an unlimited Amex Black Card when he should be living on prepaid debit cards.

“How does he have stocks and mutual funds in the high six figures while he has credit card debt in the mid-five figures?”

Jorge rubbed his eye as he spoke, and I stare at him as only an oldest brother can. A complete “I told you so” look. I bet he’d stick his tongue out at me if we were alone.

“The only answer is he’s basically one of Francesco’s shell corporations. He’s using the guy as a pass-through. Look here, hermanito, he’s got the guy on the hook for all the tax liability for these investments, but he’s not letting him draw against them to cover the fees.”

“What do you think Francesco has against this guy?”

I shrug. “Whatever it is must be something good because it’s been going on for years.”

Jorge points to my screen as I continue to scroll down.

“Do you think this guy is trying to pay off his debt by doing Francesco’s dirty work?”

“I think that’s a serious possibility.”

Javier looks up from his own computer and puts down his pen. He still likes to take handwritten notes when he’s drafting a brief.

“You know the quickest way to find the answer to that.”

I grimace. None of us want to ask Carmine for anything. I certainly don’t, but my brother’s right. I just hate admitting that in less than an hour since the call with Salvatore, I already need Carmine. I take one more pass through the information on my screen before I call him.

One of the many fucked-up things in this life is that we’ve had each other’s names and numbers stored in our phones since well before we went on our first mission. As often as we were rivals in sports, we were often teammates. It was easier when it was club sports.