Chapter 3 - Antonio

 "Their secretary wasn't as cooperative," I say. "Past tense." I tell him. I got one of our women assassin's to handle her when we had left.

 Silence. Then my father chuckles. "I take it you got it covered?"

 "I got it covered. I let The angel lose" I tell him. The angel is our anonymous woman who loves a good challenge and nothing stops her or her missions when she's protecting the family.

 Blood binds us. Me, my brothers, my sister. Angelo and I are twins, but he never wanted the throne. When I took over at twenty-eight, he became my Capo along side our brst friend Xander.

 Some men inherit power. 

 Others are forged for it.

 "That's my son," my father says. "Did they finalise the deal eventually?"

 "They did," I reply. "Then I found out the businesses were bleeding money and cutting corners. So I shut them all down. Were in the porcess of fiancally fucking them up. We're renovating and reopening under one banner—Diamond Casino. A new name."

 Approval lives in the silence."And Angelo?" he asks. 

 "He returned from Italy in a foul mood. As always." I let a chuckle slip. Me and Angelo think too much alike—we plan. We execute. We win but lately, my brothers intentions are riskier for business and when it doesn't go his way, shit breaks and it's usually bones first then the blowing up of any desolate place he finds himself at.

 "Xander?" He asks because like me, my brothers and sister, my father took on a fatherly role for my best friend when he realised Xander's was being abused at home. His homelife was shit. Drunk mother, drug addict step dad who loved playing with knives and any weapon he could get ahold of, so my father killed him and gave his mother a sweet taste of her own poison. 

 "He's still pretending he only lost that cage fight because of the flu." I laugh into the phone.

 My father snorts. "He hates losing. That boy could get stabbed and he would still fight someone just to prove his point."

 "He hates admitting that he sucked ass at last nights match more." I tell him because I'm allowed to. My best friends right hand gets me a shit ton of money.

 A quiet laugh follows through the line on the other end and I know he's let his guard down slightly. In our world, your guard should never be down. Love is never an option unless you're willing to risk the life of the person you love and want.

 "You're Grandmother arrives next week. And your mother wants to know if there is a chance that you have—"

 "No," I cut him off with a sigh. "I haven't found a woman. I'm not looking. And I won't be telling her I've found one either. I'm not 20 here dad. I'll-" 

 "Antonio Alexander Rosa." my Mom's voice cuts in. I should have known her nosy ass wouldn't be able to stay away for too long. I do miss my Ma and Pops.

  "Hi, Mom," I mutter, sighing but also trying to maintain my laughter. Fuck. 

 "You're not getting any younger, Mr, and I do want Grand-babies" she says softly, but her tone carries steel and I need balls of steel to go up against her motherly, no bullshit voice. And it's ones I do not carry.

 "I'm thirty-six," I reply. "Not ancient."

 "Baby," she murmurs, "you're my firstborn." And here we go. 

 "Technically," I say, "Angelo and I—"

 "You're three minutes older," she interrupts, laughing. "And you never let him forget it."

 I can't help but smile and carry on with our talk. Dad joining in when she roasts him. Apart from to Izzy and our Mom, my father never shows his soft side. 

 Forty minutes later, after discussing business, the Russian operations, and new projects, a knock sounds at my office door.

 "Enter" I shout just as my door opens and Jerry Harrison stumbles in, barely upright, fear carrying him forward. Rio and Xander's behind him. scowls on their faces but I can see the 

 "I see you bought him alive..." I laugh to Xander who is sporting a bloody lip and bust up knuckles. 

 "You wanted the bastard alive didn't you?" he quips which makes me chuckle. I love this kind of thing. The beating, the fight that drains from their eyes when they knoew they have lost. The recognition in their eyes when tbey realised they gambled with the wrong bastard.

 "I did. Gentlemen. You may take a seat and watch the show if you wish" I tell them as I roll up my sleeves and stand up. Jerry looking at me as if he's about to piss himself. 

 "You better not piss yourself or I'm using you to clean it up" I tell him to which he looks away from my eye contact.

 Fear, anger and determination. It goes together like Fire and gasoline. It's blows up once it reaches it's peak and he looks like he's about to combust any moment now.

 "Mr—Mr. Rosa, please—" he stammers out but he doesn't get very far on finishing what he wanted to say before my first connects with his face. The sound fascinating and relaxing to hear. My foot connecting with the wrist that he has kept close to him only to fall when he stumbled on the floor, which only means Xander's had a nice fun time before bringing him in. 

 "Please what?" I ask, leaning back palms on the desk. Smiling like a madman.

 "I didn't mean any harm." 

 "No harm?" I echo. "You put your filthy hands on three of my employees. You walked out of my casino after racking up one hundred and twenty-three thousand dollars in one night . And you thought I wouldn't find you."

 "No—please, I'll—"

 "You'll what?" I mock, tilting my head to get a better look at the man cowering in front of me. "From where I'm standing, you're broke. You're going to be desperate no doubt," 

 "My daughter—she'll help me pay. Please. Spare me and she will do it!"

I blink once. Slowly. Just trying to see if my brain has fogged out a little and he didn't just offer his daughter to actually pay his debt. 

 "How do you survive by leaning on someone who may not even exist?" I ask. I'm not one to gamble on petty promises and broken dealings. I run a multiple empire's and much more that needs me to be 100% certain of what I'm collecting. 

 "She does," he stammers. "She—she moved away two years ago. She'll help me."

 "And where is she? And what exactly do you expect me to do?"

 "Money... marriage... whatever clears the debt," he rattles. "She's in England." 

 I laugh, short and dark.

 "England," I repeat. "I don't pick random bitches to marry. So the payment of the debt will have to do. But if I find out you're lying, if there's no daughter... not a heartbeat in site and no money for me to take, I will find you. And next time? You won't walk away because you'll be scattered across the states in different body bags. 

 He nods frantically. Probably assuming he's now off the hook. "Her name is Daisy Harrison. She's Twenty-five. England. I swear—" 

 After punching Jerry several times for not only stealing from me, but for also handing over his daughter as collateral, I release his now broken nose, broken jaw and swollen eyes and grip his throat with such force his face starts turning purple. "Seventy-two hours," I say. "Be back here." 

 He gulps. "And if I'm not—?"

 I lean back, actually wondering if this idiot is going to disobey me right now, with his life literally in my hands. With my voice low and calm, smiling like I have hit the jackpot i mutter the one thing no man wants to hear.

 "This is a dead mans deal. If you fail to get back here in 72 hours and not a minute later... you won't live to make another bet, you won't be breathing and I will happily inform your 'Daughter' that daddy dearest died while selling her off to the highest bidder." I laugh as his body tenses and he looks like he's visibly going to be sick.