Page 43 of Bloodlust

"Oh, fuck off wannabe Bruce Wayne!" I flip Leo the middle finger as I suck in a long breath, hoping the oxygen lowers my heart rate. I march past Leo toward the balcony, sliding open the glass doors and stepping outside. I tap my phone screen for several beats before dialing my father's number. The line rings twice. "Hi."

"Ah, she lives," my father says with a cough. "And here I was thinking that someone finished the job."

"Funny." I swallow, my hands sweating. God, he's twisted. "So...how's Bali?"

"Hot," he states, clearly not down for any small talk. "What's the plan, Camilla? I gather it must be grand seeing as it has taken you fucking ages to call me back."

"My plan?" I hum, chewing the inside of my lip. "My plan is to, uh…" Fuck. "My plan is to do nothing, Dad. That's my plan."

"To do...nothing," my father mumbles. "That...is your plan." I cringe, mentally preparing myself forhis tyrannical scolding. "Are you fucking kidding me? Nothing? Camilla Marie Bianco you better fucking tell me your goddamn plan right now! This is a multi-million dollar deal, bambina! And you're gonna donothing?" I close my eyes as he spits off Italian profanities. "Camilla!"

"Why do we evenneedthis contract?" I snap. "Since when are we in the arms business, anyway, huh? Zoey and I looked at the financials Moe sent over and we're projected to clear over a hundred million this year. We don't need Alba, Dad. It's a mess waiting to happen."

"If we want to maintain power, Camilla, we need to diversify! You think The Dragons aren't dipping their fucking toes into new ventures? You think they're gonna stick to slinging H forever? No, they're gonna grow, bambina, and we gotta fucking grow with them."

I lower my voice. "By gunrunning, Dad? I don't see this ending well,at all.I met Alba and his men, okay? They're obnoxious and loud and like to make big waves. You know what happens when you start making big waves? People start to notice. Look at what happened with The Dragons. They were chased back to China. I don't wanna run, Dad, you know I'm not the biggest fan of Italian food."

"Thank God your mother's not on the phone, she'd fucking die hearing you speak such blasphemy." My father sighs. "Listen to me, kid, we've been playing in the minor leagues for nearly a century, okay? Yeah, we're the best team around—great pitchers, fantastic coaches, and an all-star lineup, but at some point, we've got to move on to the majors, and that time is now."

"But this isn't the majors, Dad," I say, shaking myhead. "This is a completely different sport, and I'm not sure I know how to play it."

"You're not a player, kid," my father says. "You're the fucking umpire, okay? The Di Rossis know the rules, the stats, and whose hands to shake. All you gotta do is say 'let's play ball' and watch the cash roll in."

"If it's that easy, why didn't you stick around until the end of the season, Dad?" I ask in a timid tone. "Why'd you have to retire before the bottom of the ninth?"

"Bad knee."

"Dad..."

"Because it was time, Camilla," he says. "I worked every day since I was ten, okay? I'm tired of working, kid. I just want to drink good beer, eat good food, and fuck your mother."

"Ew," I cringe. "Fucking gross, Dad. I don't need to hear that."

"Don't be a prude," he says. I internally scoff. If only he knew. "Call Alba and set a meeting with him, okay? Only him. Do whatever you need to do, Camilla, but make this happen. Understood?"

"Fine, but I'm not apologizing to him," I state. "Over my dead body."

"Of course, you're not. The Biancos don't apologize to nobody," he says, almost disgusted. "Whose fucking idea was that?"

I scoff, glowering at Leo through the balcony door. "The Council's, apparently."

"Bunch of fucking pussies," he grunts. "I'll give 'em a call later today and set 'em straight, but in the meantime, kid, go get that fucking contract."

I bite my lip. "How?"

My father laughs. "You're Camilla fucking Bianco. Figure it out."

I close my eyes. "Seriously? Not even a tiny tip?"

"Well, last time you used sugar, right?" he muses. "Maybe it's time to use a little spice. Add some heat, if you will."

"You want me to shoot him?" I frown. "Really?"

"Oh, for fuck's sake. Don'tshootthe bastard," he groans. "Just put some pressure on the man. He's got no allies in the States, and we've got a friend on every corner. Use that, kid. Negotiation is a part of business."

"Negotiate?" I murmur to myself. "I could do that."

"Excellent," he says. "Call me when it's done."