Heartless People

TWENTY-THREE

Truth will come to sight;

murder cannot be hid long.

~ William Shakespeare

CAMILA.

"I hate you," I hissed again as I ate my French toast.

Lauren rolled her eyes, flipping the files in front of her. "Were in public, sweetheart."

"They can all fuck themselves with these dull knives for all I bloody care." I looked around her favorite restaurant to find at least ten pairs of eyes staring at
us as if we were some kind of movie stars. Well, we were some kind of stars, but it was still annoying as fuck.

"Careful, they may stop seeing you as Americas darling." She smirked, drinking her coffee in disdain. I knew she would prefer brandy and right now, so would I.

"They can have their fake darling back after we dump Amory and Saiges bodies in one of the Great Lakes," I said, speaking in Portuguese.

"Patience, love."

Gripping the knife in my hands, I felt my nostrils flare. "To hell with patience. Its been four months since their wedding. Since then, they have burned half our fields in Mexico, killed seven of our men in Italy, and cut off thirty percent of our weed from the east. Which you should know costs us about a hundred million every week. I want their heads on a stake, and I want it fucking yesterday. But somehow, you fucking convinced me to wait. So fuck you and fuck them and fuck this goddamn hat I have to fucking wear!"

I wanted to take off the giant yellow sun hat and throw it at her, but that would bring too much attention to myself. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I
tried to breathe. The past four months had been an all-out war. The Valero were coming at us with everything they had. We expected as much. However, with the cops now watching us more than ever, our actions were limited. The Valero were most likely behind that as well, but right now, I was ready to bomb the police station, kill the Valero, and move on. But instead, I was in a stupid five star restaurant, waiting on the motherfucking real housewives of Miami for some charity shit.

"First, that is a lot of fucks. Second, your hat is nice." She smirked as I glared. "And we will find an opening soon. However, right now the plan we came up with last night is the one were sticking with."

"I was high off sex and couldn't think straight," I snapped, drinking the sorry excuse for tea they offered me.

"But that is where all our master plans are created."

"Really? Isn't that where you came up with the plan to pump more heroin into Boston? Now the mayor is involved."

She leaned back in her chair with no care in the world. "Thats only because his idiot daughter went and overdosed. He's busy blaming dealers as if we held the needle to her arm. His bad parenting is apparently our fault. Mayor or no mayor, it was a good idea. The demand is growing."

"Lauren." I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "We keep going like this, we are going to be stretched too thin. We can't t fight Miami and Boston with Valero still screwing us. The mayor is going to be doubling down his efforts to trace it."

"Fine," she hissed, leaning in. "We stay neutral for now. We have a shipment coming in tonight that I will redirect and hold. But the moment the Valero are out of the picture, we are pushing hard."

"Deal. In the meantime, we can up the weed. The shit is almost legal anyway, and both coasts are addicted. Weed was as good as gold now. We sold to
medical pharmacies where it was legal, and small street gangs where it wasn't."

"Then its settled . . ." She paused causing me to look over at the door where Commissioner Andrew fucking Patterson made his way toward us.

"Who do you call when its the police who are stalking you?" I sighed, looking over to Lauren, who glared at the man approaching Us.