“Diesel, care to explain why we now have another yacht?” I ask, looking up to see him leaning back with a smirk while Garrett groans.
“I told you he would find out, D.” He laughs.
D shrugs. “Well, you see, I was walking along, minding my own business, when I saw a yacht called Roxy. Now, of course no one other than us could own a boat named after our girl, so I offered them lots of money to buy it.” He shrugs as Roxy laughs, cupping the mug of coffee Kenzo hands her.
“You’re forgetting the part where he said no, so you beat the shit out of him with a frying pan and told him the boat was yours now and to call you Captain Crazy,” Garrett adds as he eats.
It’s silent for a moment, then we all roar with laughter as Diesel grins. He glances over at Roxy and winks. “You can just call me crazy, Little Bird.”
“We already have a yacht.” I sigh when I can control my laughter.
“Well, now we have two, we can race them.” Diesel laughs, flipping his lighter open and shut.
I’m about to try and explain why we won’t be doing that when my phone rings, interrupting me. Answering it, I massage Roxxane’s cold toes, but freeze at the words that come down the line.
“There’s been an explosion.”
I sit up, my body rigid, as all hints of anything but the Viper disappear. “Where?”
“The old house.” Tony sighs.
“Any hurt or dead?”
I can feel the others staring, so I hold up my finger to tell them to wait.
“No, it was empty. Fire and police are here, but we know them, so they are going to say it’s a gas explosion and will be gone soon.”
“Thanks, Tony, keep me updated,” I snarl.
“Oh, and boss? We found motorbike tracks leading onto the dirt road behind the house, four of them.” He hangs up.
Bikes.
Triad.
Those fucking idiots. I’m going to kill them for this. This isn’t just a sly dig at our power, this is an all-out act of war. We could have dismissed the assassination attempt as youthful enthusiasm and still got them in line, but this?
This marks their deaths.
Slamming the phone down, I look to the others who are ready, their bodies vibrating with tension, knowing something has happened. “They blew up the old house.”
“Triad,” Garrett growls, his hands clenched into fists, and I incline my head.
“They found bike tracks out back. Police and fire will rule it as a gas explosion.” I grind my teeth, and I can feel Roxy frowning at us.
“The old house?” she asks, but I’m too infuriated to answer, too busy counting mentally to even speak. To not explode and rain down fucking hell across this city that dares cross us.
“Our father’s house. We lived there after his death for a while as we built this,” Kenzo tells her, but even his voice is tight.
To hit that house, our house, they are trying to provoke a reaction. If we don’t retaliate, we’ll be seen as weak, like we are scared of them, which we aren’t. Their family might have used to run this town, but now they are nothing but relics.
Relics can be forgotten.
“What’s our move?” Kenzo questions. No one is eating now.
“We get them back, of fucking course, and we kill them all,” Diesel snarls, stabbing his knife into the table, his face twisted in anger.
“No, not yet. We show them we can easily get to them. We prove our power, we make them fear us like everyone else. Then, we destroy them,” I outline, as I calmly put my teacup down and straighten my suit.
“I’ll get the rocket launcher,” Diesel adds.
“No, they own a restaurant, don’t they? Their parents ran it for many years and lived above it, get me the address. Also, get me the address of all three brothers. It’s a Sunday, so they will be at home having a family day.” I start to grin, and Kenzo mirrors it.
“I’ll make the calls. I like where you are going with this, big brother.”
Picking up my own phone, I stand. “I want police at all three doors, arrest them on any charges, show them up, let them know it’s from us, and shut down that restaurant, repossess it, it’s ours now.”
“What are you going to do?” Roxy inquires curiously, not seeming upset in any way.
“I’m going to check the papers for all of their family members and employees. Any who are here illegally will be deported immediately. We are going to take them down, this is war.”
She stands then. “Let me help.”
The others are rushing off on their phones, but I hold my call and stare at her. “You want to help?”
She nods, a sly grin covering her lips. “You think you’re the only one who can? I have an idea. Do you trust me?”
I stare at her, and she steps closer. “Ryder, do you trust me?”
The words echo around me as I nod my head in affirmation. She grins wider than before, kissing my cheek. “Good, because shit is about to get real.”
She strolls away while I stare at her retreating form, wondering if I should be more worried about her than Diesel and his launcher, but I don’t have long to debate. If I want this done today, I need to make calls and fast.
By the time I’m off the phone, it’s hours later, and Roxy comes back looking way too pleased with herself with Garrett on her heels. “It is all done, now we sit back and watch.”
“And what did you do, love?” I ask, calmer now.
She drops into my lap, smirking at me, and leans in. “Watch and learn, baby.” She kisses me and stands again, whistling as she heads to the living room and flicks on the TV to the news.
I follow after her, leaning against the back of the sofa, and watch above her head as it mentions raids in the city—no doubt on their homes and restaurant, which makes me smirk—but then it flips to a new news report, and my mouth drops open.
It’s focused on their import business, the Triad’s. “Turn it up,” I demand, and the TV booms through the room, making Diesel and Kenzo appear.
The news reporter explains a whistle-blower has verified the business has been stealing from the city and importing drugs, with informants, which they call local dealers, confirming they are their suppliers.
I turn off the TV and glance over at Roxy, who’s examining her nails with a grin on her face. “Love…”
“How the bloody hell did you do that?” Kenzo gawks. He looks at me in shock. “Did you know?”
I shake my head, and Roxy turns and stares at us. “You aren’t the only ones with friends. The one who reported their business? He comes in all the time to complain about his wife, loves bourbon, and owed me a favour.” She shrugs. “I did promise him a job here though, seeing as though he’s lost his now. It probably won’t stick for long, but it will shut them down for a while and drag their name through the mud.”
“The dealers?” I ask with a frown, while Diesel laughs maniacally.
“Oh, Wheels and Timmy? Yeah, good boys, lived with them for a while on the streets. They had cops breathing down their necks anyway, so this helped throw them off and to their suppliers.” She wiggles her brows. “I promised they wouldn’t be arrested, and if they did, we would get them out. Problem?”