Phoenix Rising: The Veiðimenn Mob, Book Two

Twelve

His eyes wide, Francesco noted how well the boys could speak and understand his mother tongue with proper dialect. "Callumsson, you allow your people to talk like this?"

"He's more than that. All of my friends are like family to me," Phoenix replied. "They get like this when they feel I've been cheated, which, in this instance, I have. All I was trying to do was help Andromeda on behalf of the school. There was never any ill intent toward your mob at any point. Next time, your dog can fetch her books if he's so damn worried about my objectives."

Donning his helmet, Phoenix revved his bike. Without looking back, he and Memphis left the manor. Talking to the two men made him feel frustrated and exhausted all at once. Dancing around issues was never something that he did, and he wasn’t about to start just because one guy couldn’t wrap his head around the simple fact that Phoenix was acting out of the kindness of his heart. There was no reason to hate someone who wasn’t even born when the rift between the mobs was created, let alone dislike him for the sole reason that he was a descendant of his fathers mob.

He wanted to get to know Andromeda. Not as a target, but as a person. He was curious to know what made her so approachable and likeable regardless of her family background. When her father’s mob treated him the way they did, it left a bad taste in his mouth. Yet, when he glanced up at a window on the second floor of the manor, he could see her watching the scene with a troubled look on her face.

Luckily, there were still ten minutes left to their free period. With the limited timeframe, Phoenix placed a call to his father to have David bring them their spare bookbags. After using the bathroom, he joined Memphis at their usual lunch table. “What do you think is going on with her father?”

Memphis reached over and poked him in the head. "For all your freaking genius, you're hopeless with the females, bro. Look, I don’t know what’s goin’ on, but it ain’t our business, so let’s take our noses out of it."

Phoenix glared over at him, "Your mouth didn't help. Seriously, though, that guy, Bianchi? There’s something about him that just doesn’t sit right with me."

The boy shrugged. "That jackoff was giving you a hard time. It's not our fault they assumed you had some kind of a sinister sub-plot behind your actions. If anything, they need to thank your ass for doing what you did to help her out, but yeah. I noticed it, too.

There was no way to argue with that kind of logic, and Phoenix knew it. Only his friends got away with downplaying his rank, but he knew they had his back no matter what. As the lunch bell finally rang, they waited for the rest of the crew to show up.

Kennedy burst through the doors first, her light blue eyes scanning the room for them before they narrowed on Memphis. "What the actual f**k was all that about? I just got the rules shoved down my throat again because you decided to mouth off to the freaking Italian Don? Are you out of your mind?"

Using her math book, she gave him a few hits to the back and shoulders, knowing that it wouldn't leave a mark. Phoenix had to bite his lip to avoid laughing at them. “Ken, don't hit him in the head. You’re going to give him brain damage.”

"He kind of needs a brain in the first place for it to get damaged.” The girl said, turning her temper on the leader of their crew. "Why didn't you come get me instead? You know that Memphis has a tendency to run his mouth when he should keep it shut."

Jaxon looked at Phoenix knowingly. His deep brown gaze was filled with quiet apprehension as he spoke. "His brain-to-mouth filter is apparently broken. Do you think Donna Ambrosia can talk some sense into him instead?"

The mere mention of Phoenix's mother had them all sitting quietly in their chairs. Not a single one of them wanted to face the Queen of their mafia. Phoenix turned to the door where his uncle was now standing with a passive look on his face. He knew that the man was anything but passive, and, when the door opened to admit Francesco, he knew he was that much deeper in trouble.

"s**t just got real, guys," Markus muttered as he ate his fries. Lukas tapped his brother on the shoulder and waited until his head was turned to steal Markus's apple off the tray. "Back off, brat."

"I forgot my lunch money at home," Lukas said with a grin. "Besides, you're supposed to be watching out for your baby brother, Markie."

When he got close enough, Declan leaned over the table and said, "Some right stupid s**t you pulled, Nix."

"I did nothing wrong," the teen replied stoically as he drank from his water bottle. "I was trying to be nice. I'm not doing it anymore, so no worries, Uncle. I probably got in over my head, but the way I was treated today told me everything I needed to know. She’s an angel; pure and good. I probably should never have taken notice, but that’s something I didn’t think about. Further assistance can be handled by the Maestro’s men from now on.”

Francesco gave the auburn-haired man a look of shock. "He is your nephew?"

"His mother is my twin sister," Declan replied. "These guys are usually polite and calm, so I want the whole story before you decide to go to war with our people."

Backing up slightly, Francesco shook his head, "War? No, Signor. You see, I came as a favour, for my daughter. She is, how shall I say, concerned that Giovanni may have scared off the young heir. Her interest in him is as strong as his interest in her, so why not allow it a while? The master of your mob had issues, si, but that does not mean our children need suffer in the wake of our differences."

Turning his azure gaze to Memphis and Phoenix, he stated, "I see. Well, for one, I doubt anything can scare anyone in the team. However, school is not the place to handle this misdemeanour. For two, I’m confused. I thought you liked her, Nix?"

“I do,” the teen said.

“So you’re just going to give up?” Declan demanded.

Phoenix's brown eyes widened a fraction as his friends lowered their heads. They all knew that this was probably not going to end well. He hadn’t thought that taking a cautious step back was giving up, but, as he visualized things from his uncle’s standpoint, he saw what the man meant. "No, not giving up. Taking a step back to observe and re-up. By the way, I still have the hall pass and Dama De Luca’s class list if that will help settle any disputes."

Declan held out his hand, "Yeah, that would be nice, wouldn't it? Give it over."

Francesco watched as the teen did as he was told without argument. "I trust that the boy is telling the truth. Otherwise, my daughter would not be so adamant that he be allowed to come to see her."

Turning his gaze to the other man, Declan hid his surprise well. "Is that so? Well, the final decision rests with my boss, so you will need to talk to him about that."

Although he appeared calm on the outside, Declan knew that his nephew was seriously rethinking his recent actions. As he led the man back out of the school, he said nothing to him.

Francesco looked at him as he slid into the back seat of the car he'd arrived in and sighed. "Notify your Don that I wish to discuss the future of our children with him and his wife."

Declan leaned over the car, his eyes glinting dangerously. "Do you know what happened to the last family that pushed the Veiðimenn too far, Maestro? Their heiress was a cutthroat, but she got her due in the end for killing Callum's mother and unborn sister. Toe the line, because I'm not scared to die to protect my family."

"I was not aware of this information, my people could not find it anywhere," Francesco replied. It was a lie, one he knew he would eventually answer for, but it was necessary. He had to know the truth, especially where his beloved wife's sister was concerned. Had he taken Angelica as his intended bride the way his parents wanted, he knew that there was no way he'd be having the conversation he was now.

Sneering, the auburn-haired man bent a little closer. "That's because Don Hans didn't believe in half-assing a job. When we do something, we do it right the first time and never leave loose ends. You're on our radar now. Like I said, toe the line."

Stepping back, Declan controlled his temper enough to shut the door without slamming it.

Francesco shuddered under the weight of the unspoken words that came out of the other man. The boy had acted out of kindness, but the man he called uncle would not be swayed by flowery words or gentlemanly offers. He was running out of time he didn't have to protect the last remnant of his wife from the enemies lurking in the shadows. Desperation swelled in his chest as he thought about his daughter's safety in the hands of the Icelandic mob.

There was no mistaking that she would be safer with them, but he had to act sooner rather than later. What the other Don didn't know was that Francesco was on edge, not because of the teen who had visited, but because of the threat that was closer to home than he was willing to admit.