Blind Trust with the Don

Chapter 2: The New Don.

Marcell's POV.

“There's no way in hell I'm sharing my territory with the Russians." Constance Demarco grumbled. I'm sure he meant to under his breath, but the man never knew subtlety if it bit him on the ass.

“We don't have territories, Mr. Demarco." Ren calmly tried to explain to Constance for what felt like the hundredth time in the last three hours of our syndicate meeting.

“What the hell do you mean we don't have territories?" Constance roared.

“We're re-evaluating the lay of the land, Constance." I sighed, rubbing my head, trying to ease the onsetting migraine that was brewing behind my eyes—the same one that I naturally get every single time I see the four men behind the desk.

Hal, one of my guards, snickers, shaking his head. Constance's head sharply pivots to see the tall, red0headed man standing by the double cherry doors. Brand new doors. The ones I had replaced as a part of the new overhaul to the Russo estate. As a part of being the new Don Russo, I had to invest a large sum of money into the extravagantly large estate. Truthfully, I didn't pick out a damn thing in this place. All of that fell to my underboss. Ren.

“Don Constance," Ren spoke stronger it was a part of the reason I picked this man to fill my cousin's spot in the family.

Lorenzo De Leon had a way of speaking to these vile, ignorant old men that I find myself torn between the decision of cutting out their tongues or slitting their throats. Some days I picked both, and some days I envisioned a myriad of other choices to rid myself of the frustrating other men, but Ren had control over his emotions, control I envied. Control I could learn from.

“Who the hell are you and why are you talking to me?" Constance whined like a little child that only annoyed me further.

“Be careful of how you speak to my men," I warned the old man, who thought he had more clout that anyone in this room, but little did he know he was actually the smallest man in the room. “I won't tell you, or anyone in this room twice, you work for me. You might be Don's in your households. But when it comes to the syndicate, I am the Don. You'd be right to respect that and those who work for me."

“And who exactly are those people." Shamus's calm voice bellowed out from the other side of the brand-new conference table that Ren had recently installed in the place of my family's dining room table.

“Hal is the head of my personal guards." I nodded my head to the man who just moments ago made himself known in the room. “And Ren here has recently just accepted the role of my underboss, and therefore will be helping us equally divide the territories."

“Underboss, you say?" Shamus questions me, his thick hairy eyebrow quirks up.

“I don't believe I stuttered."

“No, Don Russo I heard you perfectly clear," Ren confirms.

“He's not family." Shamus points out.

“I don't need to explain to you why I've selected Ren as my second in command and I'd strongly encourage you to let go of your line of questioning, Shamus."

“I'm not questioning you, Marcell, I'm just surprised is all. I just assumed that you would have picked from the family, or if not that, then a syndicate member's family."

“Awe, Shamus, don't tell me your feelings are hurt I didn't pick your son? What is he now? Seventeen?"

“He's eighteen, and perfectly capable of being an underboss…"

“Then make him yours. I'm not discussing this further. Ren is my underboss, and as such, my second, making him powerful enough to make choices he feels suited for the best interest of our endeavors and investments. Now, if we are done interrogating me on my choices, I'd like to move on, unlike you all in this room, I have better things to do."

“The territories have been divided into four quadrants, leaving one central sector a neutral territory for business to be done—" Ren doesn't hesitate to begin his explanation to Constance again.

“Things were working just fine before… Why do they need to change because of the Irish?"

“It's not changing because of the Irish, or the Russians, or even the Italians. It's changing because according to the old contracts between the families that formed the syndicates this is how it should have happened…" Ren spoke louder trying to speak over Constance who was still trying to make his point.

“Then why wasn't it like this before?" Petrov asks, looking up from the map in front of him.

“Because… Old leadership…" Ren was doing good holding his own.

“Because Aldo Russo was dirty and taking bribes from old Dons of families long ago, some of them he inherited when he took the position as it was inherited by my uncle and so on and so forth. The mistake was never corrected…" I spoke up.

“But it if was working, why does it have to change?" Costa asked, speaking up for the first time since the meeting.

“It wasn't set up to work the way it was," Ren calmly explained. “It was set up to create tension, and subsequently, wars over territories. As it stands now, Petrov's territory merges with yours, and Demarco's territory is the largest next to the Russo family. With the Kelly family merging with the syndicate, not only do they bring in their land, but the Russo's have acquired the Ricci family land."

“How is that possible?" Petrov asked, leaning forward.

“It was a part of the deal Aldo had set between the marriage of Diego and Penelope. Let's say… a fine line detail that was slipped in when Penelope Ricci mettled where she shouldn't have." I explained, leaning back.

I couldn't help the cocky smirk that settled on my lips remembering the look on Penelope's face as she and her father figured out, not only did she lose out on the marriage into the Russo family, but when her terrifyingly pale hand put pen to paper.

Penelope had signed her signature sealing the deal to her clauses, she was thinking she was ensuring her fortune but she didn't even read the little fine line detail I had Ren slip in.

One little phone call to Ren, who then was just a fantastic computer hacker, had him slipping in the clause that stripped the Ricci family of their investments and territories. It was so outlandish, but it worked.

“So, with the extra territories. Kelly's and Ricci's we need to equally divide them among the four families of the syndicate." Ren explained calmly looking at the four men in the room.

I stood up from my seat at the head of the conference table, completely trusting my underboss. These four sick assholes might not know the man who looked harmless, but I knew Ren full well. I knew he might look completely innocent and fragile, but Ren De Leon could crush each of these men without batting an eye.

“Take the Ricci's as a warning to not doubt me, and never question me," I said over my shoulder, pausing at the heavy door. “I am not my uncle; I won't put a bullet between your eyes if you offend me. I'll bury you before you even register you're dead."