22

Stefano 

“Mykonos hotel reached out to us today, they are hoping to test new waters in New Zealand. They want us to take over the construction.” My assistant, Marcus said as he perused the files in his slide. 

“I've scheduled a meeting with them in about two weeks. You'll be going with two of our best architects in case they'd need to go through some of our designs” he added, his eyes still on the file.

“I doubt that. They mostly provide designs by themselves, but that's good.” I replied.

The rest of the meeting went smoothly. Things were going well at Niccolians Steels, a construction company that was passed down alongside our Mafia blood. The company acted as a frontline business where we laundered the drug money. Truth is, I really can't say which earned more money, company or drugs. But I am certain of one thing, in both ways we are exceptional and have a meticulous compass.

Most buildings in Italy were done by us. Each design is distinct from another and yet sophisticated. As the CEO of the company, I make use of all dad taught me in his lifetime to keep the company running. At the drug level, Vittorio and Salvatore do most of the work but they still had to report to me.

“If that'll be all, it's time to adjourn the meeting,” Marcus said, breaking my thoughts. I nodded slowly and looked round, looking at the lines of staff looking at me for further instructions.

“Let's stick to the plans we have and communicate to the appropriate department, fill them in if need be. Marcus, make sure there's no slip in the meeting coming up and double check with the architects you've chosen. Infact, make those architects three. I want us to be extra prepared. Mykonos is one client we don't want to disappear.” Marcus nodded and took more of the instructions before standing up. Other staff stood up too. One by one, they filed out of my office. I stood up from the meeting area and walked to my seat, ready to bury myself in the piles of workload on my desk.

I had barely finished the first one I took when the land phone on my table rang out in the silent room. I frowned. Marcus knew better to call via my cell phone rather than the line phone. At first I decided to ignore it. He knows how much work I had to do, and yet he decided to disturb me.

At the second ring, I was forced to take a look at the screen of the phone. The number was from the main floor. The security department to be precise. I picked it up then, wondering why they'd call my office directly.

“Mr Niccolo, there's one Mr. Massimo here. He's been insisting on seeing you and has been causing a scene,” he said with a raspy voice, as if he's trying to catch his breath. 

Massimo.

I thought he wouldn't come, I've been expecting him to show up at my doorstep. Knowing him, he'd have found out that I hijacked his container. For us Mafias, our container are our lifeline. If you tamper with any part of another person's container, be ready to face his wrath. However, that rule doesn't work on the Niccolians. Whatever we do, stand and no one dares to challenge it. It has been like that in the days of our fathers and it'll continue to be so.

I contemplated telling the security guard to show him in but I decided against it. I don't trust the bastard one bit and I don't want him stepping into my company.

“Don't let him in. I'll be there,” I said and banged the telephone in its case. I looked through the last paper in the folder I held and stood up, walking out of my office.

“Don’t you fucking touch me, you idiot.” I heard Massimo cursed out as I neared the entrance of the company. Most of the staff had stopped working and were looking at Massimo from afar, through the giant glass. Immediately they saw me, they all composed themselves and went back to work.

“Well, well. Look who's here,” I said as soon as I stepped out. Massimo yanked himself free from the security guards holding him. He began walking towards me. The guard wanted to grab him again but I nodded to them to let him be.

“Quit the pretense, Stefano. You knew I'd show up here.” He half whispered, half shouted.

“I'm sorry but I didn't get that. Care to explain why you showed up here, belittling yourself in this manner?” I asked, teasing him.”

“Spare me that bollocks. My containers. My drugs,” he said in a low voice, barely audible. “You stole them and coveted it. Why? What exactly are you trying to do? Aren't you rich enough?” He asked.

“I'm not a low beastly thing like you. I don't know what you are talking about. You think you are really important, isn't it? What business do I have with whatever shit you have? This is a construction company and I don't have any memories of you being my client. So, why are you ranting and constituting nuisance at my place of work?” 

“You did it, bastard! It was you, no one would have that audacity, except you. What? You are feigning ignorance? Do you know what kind of trouble you've brought to my doorstep? I have people breathing down my neck,” he said. 

I couldn't lie that his trouble and predicament didn't excite me. The happiness got the better of me, making me fall out of my acting.

“That's your problem, Massimo. Sort it out and stop whining like a cat.” I said, the side of my lips curled up in a smile.

“This won't go with consequences, Stefano. You know the rules of the streets like the back of your hands and yet you crossed a line that you should never have crossed.”

“No, you crossed the lines first.” I fired back at him. “I haven't forgotten what you did in Bordeaux. I lost one of my father's most loyal men, not to mention the money I lost because of you.”

Immediately I mentioned the incident, his countenance changed into remorse but it was late. No matter how sober he now felt for what he did, I would make him pay for it with blood and sweat.

“That was a long time ago and I've apologised for it. What more do you want, my life?”

“No, because even your miserable life won't cut it. Your apologies mean nothing because that wound still lives in my heart.” His nostrils flared in anger as I said those words. He moved closer, leaned in and muttered.

“I guess we are officially enemies now” he seethed.

“We've always been enemies. You were just too slow to realise it.” I countered, refusing to back down from his stare.

“You had better fix this Niccolo or the whole of Rome would burn.” He threatened.

“And you'll be the only one who'll burn in the flame. Don't even try to play smarty pants. You know very well that I can make both you and your name vanish from this planet if I want.” We both stared into each other's eyes with so much hatred that we began to gather attention for ourselves. 

Just then I heard someone clapping and chuckled from behind.

“That was intense. It felt real, like a page of a novel. Are you guys planning to get yourself killed?” Vittorio asked in his usual playful manner.

“Stop sticking your nose where it's not needed, nerdy,” he said to Vittorio, who was probably just returning from work. He was still in his suit and thick rimmed glasses.

“Says someone who's in my company. My territory.” Vittorio retorted.

Massimo looked around and probably found out that the odds were against him. He backed down from whatever he had in my mind to do or say. Looked around and stormed away but not before he commented.

“The battle line has been drawn. Let the best man win”