Passing the roulette tables, I ignore the stares like I always do, as we reach the back room, where two security guards stand with weapons strapped across their chests. They both bow their heads, opening the doors. “Mrs. Lala.”

“Miss,” I correct. “For now.”

As soon as the back doors close, I breathe out a sigh and make my way through to the boardroom. This area is purposely for business meetings that I, one, need to make sure no one loses their shit and starts killing people, and two, is away from my family.

I push through the opening doors to the boardroom and smile when I see Camitro and his right hand on one side of the table, and Billy on the left side of the table with his two most prized men.

“Wow. I could smell the testosterone from upstairs.”

“You’re late, principessa…” Camitro scolds jokingly, a slight smile on his wrinkly face. “Should we be worried of why you’re late?”

I lower myself down onto the seat at the head of the table, rolling my lips beneath my teeth. Why yes, yes, you probably should be. “No. Not at all. Now, how can I help you both? I’d really love to get home to my kid before sunrise if that’s okay with you all.”

Camitro clears his throat, resting back against the chair. The lighting is dim, with the overhead in the middle of the table offering just the right amount to duck in the corner. “We have an issue.”

“What kind, and I figured or I wouldn’t be here.”

“Your cousins are running amok, and I can’t be the one to address it with your uncle. You know what happened last time he and I were in the same room? One of us almost lost our head.” I wave my hand for him to carry on. I already know the story—or should I say beef—between my favorite uncle and Camitro. And he’s right. But it wasn’t Unc’s head that almost came off. It was Camitro’s, which completely makes sense as to why he has come to me to address this, since he is, and I know this for a fact, afraid of the unhinged nature of uncle dearest. Camitro blows out a deep breath. “I’m all for making names and doing what you’ve got to do to protect what you got to protect, but Gio is snorting more cocaine than he is selling, and then there’s the issue of his activities. They need to be brought to the commission.”

I chuckle, leaning back in my chair and crossing my leg over the other. “No one likes a snitch, Camitro.”