˜”*°• Vincenzo •°*”˜
I was seated in the corner of the dimly lit Italian restaurant, the soft glow of candles casting elongated shadows across the room. The distant murmur of hushed conversations and the clinking of cutlery filled the air, but I was here for one reason and one reason alone – to meet Don Carlo on my father's orders. He wanted me to get into the business with this man. A man whose word is as good as nothing.The rim of the crystal tumbler felt cool beneath my fingertips as I watched, my patience waning. The Capone family had been patient enough, and it was time to show these fuckers that soon enough Vincenzo Capone will dominate in this city.In the last few months, the Outfit has had problems not only with the Cosa Nostra but also with Don Carlos who was trying to get into our gambling business. Peace with Cosa Nostra could be more beneficial for us but my father was a stubborn man, holding onto the grudges of his father.The ornate entrance swung open, and Don Carlo strolled in, flanked by his men. His mere presence commanded respect, but respect was something I had no intention of showing. We exchanged nods, and he took his seat before me.Don Carlo made himself comfortable, the scent of cigar smoke lingering in the air. The men poured him a glass of aged bourbon, and he shot me a grin."Vincenzo Capone," Carlo drawled, "you finally accepted my dinner invitation. I was beginning to think you were too afraid to meet."I squared my shoulders, matching his icy stare, "I'm not afraid of anything, Carlo. I hear your family's been expanding its interests."Carlo's smile widened, a calculated glint in his eyes. "Indeed, we've been exploring new avenues. But it's a big city, plenty of room for everyone, wouldn't you agree?"I remained composed but couldn't mask my skepticism, "Room for everyone until someone's ambitions exceed their boundaries."Carlo's tone turned appeasing, "Vincenzo, let's not be adversaries. Imagine the power and wealth we could amass if we joined forces. Your father wants the same thing, together we could have more men than Costello. We'd have power, wealth, and numbers."A flicker of annoyance crossed my face, "Power, wealth, and what else? The satisfaction of seeing my family's hard-earned turf taken over by yours?"He leaned in, his tone softer but laced with menace, "You're a pragmatist, boy. Surely you see the wisdom in cooperation.""I won't stand for your invasions into my territory."Carlo chuckled darkly, swirling his drink, "Ah, territory. The cause of so much bloodshed and conflict. You see, I believe in expansion. Progress."My voice grew sharper, "Progress at my family's expense? You've taken over our speakeasies, extorted our businesses—"He interrupted with a mocking laugh, "Business is business, Vincenzo. We are not friends yet, but if we join hands tonight tomorrow will be a different story. And about your speakeasies? Survival of the fittest."My temper flared, and I leaned in, fists clenched. "Survival? This isn't the jungle, Carlo. It's the city, my city, and I won't let you destroy everything I've built."Carlo's smile faded into a sneer, he slammed his fist onto the table, "Built? Or inherited, like the spoiled brat you are?""It's not mere inheritance when I've rightfully earned it, Carlo. When I've toiled for it."He chuckled, swirling the glass of aged bourbon in his hand. "Let's not pretend, Vincenzo. We're both businessmen in our own way. Why not put our heads together and expand our operations?"My fingers twitched slightly, my temper barely contained beneath the surface of my composed demeanor, "I've heard this song before. Your family's greed knows no bounds."His smug grin persisted as he countered, "Greed, or ambition? You can't deny the charm of greater wealth, my friend."A surge of irritation coursed through me, but I maintained my composure. "This city isn't big enough for both our ambitions. And your recent actions suggest you've forgotten who holds the real power here."A few days ago, they had tried to target my brother Adriano Capone and before that, they tried to kidnap Aunt Alessia but failed miserably both times.Carlo leaned forward, placing his glass on the table, "This alliance can be more potent than brute force. Imagine the riches we could amass together."My voice remained unwavering, "My father had rebuilt this empire on strength and loyalty to his family and his men. I won't let your family's greed jeopardize that. I have no intention of joining hands with a scum."A sly smile played on Carlo's lips as he raised his glass as if toasting to our standoff, "Be careful not to bite off more than you can chew."I couldn't help but smirk at Carlo's audacity, "More than I can chew? Trust me, there's a whole lot I can chew, and it's far beyond your fucking imagination. Because in the end, it's the men on the streets that matter."His fingers tightened around the bourbon glass, betraying his frustration, "You underestimate my family. We've weathered storms that would sink lesser men."I leaned closer, my voice low and dangerously calm. "You know what your problem is, Carlo? You've always thought too small. You see this city as your playground, but I see it as my kingdom. And kings don't share their kingdoms."Carlo's eyes blazed with anger. "You think you're untouchable, don't you? The mighty Vincenzo Capone, who can do no wrong."I chuckled softly, "I've never claimed to be a saint. But I do have principles. Loyalty, honor, and a sense of respect for the way things work in this world."He leaned in too, his voice dripping with disdain, "Your principles will be your downfall, Capone. You're too rigid, too unwilling to adapt."I straightened up, my gaze unwavering. "Adaptation without principles is just chaos. I'll take my chances with principles."Carlo's face reddened with anger, and he slammed his glass on the table, "You're a fool, Capone. A stubborn, arrogant fool."I met his rage with icy calmness, "Better a fool with principles than a snake in the grass."That was the spark that ignited the powder keg. He slammed his palms on the table, causing the bourbon glass to wobble, before he pushed the glass off the table, "You arrogant bastard! You think you can insult me in my own city?""I'll do more than insult you, Carlo. I'll take everything from you," my eyes locked onto him, "Because in this city, there can be only one reigning family. The time for negotiations is over."My hand slid beneath the table, fingers wrapping around the hidden weapon. My gaze stayed fixed on Don Carlo, and I could see the shock filling his eyes. He knew.In an instant, the balance of power tilted toward the Capone family. A quiet shot echoed through the room, and Don Carlo's eyes widened in surprise as he fell back in his seat, a red stain spreading on his shirt. Simultaneously, my men sprang into action, neutralizing Carlo's soldiers.With that singular gunshot, the message resounded throughout the room: the Capone family now reigned supreme over the city.⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅"What have you done?" my father's thunderous voice followed me as I went home."What you should have done long ago, taking out the scum from Chicago, cleaning my territory," I answered as I took my place on the living room couch, crossing one leg over the other."I sent you there on my behalf to make peace with Carlo, not kill him, Vincenzo. We're already at war with Cosa Nostra, I can not afford another war!""I'd rather make peace with Costello than ever join hands with that scum Carlo and his idiotic sons.""There will be no peace between the Outfit and the Famiglia not as long as I am alive!" Dad snapped.Aunt Alessia flinched, she had been awfully quiet since she lost her. It was as if she had forgotten to talk.Even if it wasn't for her, I still wanted this peace with Cosa Nostra more than ever.I faced Dad, "Carlo Gotti is dead. I killed him, they will retaliate, they won't settle for peace even if you begged them to. Nikolai Costello, on the other hand, is willing to consider peace right now. You have to act swiftly, Dad, before everything we've built crumbles."In his frustration, Dad's fist collided with the wall, leaving a bloody mess. He ran his trembling hand through his hair, his eyes filled with rage and desperation, "You planned this, didn't you? You never intended to align with Carlo; your visit was an execution mission."I just stared at my father having a complete mental breakdown, "You finally caught on? Costello is more powerful, he is true to his word. You need to stop fighting your father's war, stop living in the past, and holding onto your father's grudges. Aunt Alessia has already paid the price, and all she wants now is to see her daughter. You're denying her that happiness."He raised his voice, refusing to accept the truth, "Don't you fucking dare shift the blame onto me. Nikolai is cut from the same cloth as his father. We'll see when he stabs us in the back."Straightening my suit, I flicked a speck of lint away, rising from my chair and buttoning my jacket, "It's the only choice you have, Dad, take it or leave it. Either you agree, or we'll face the combined forces of Don Carlo and Nikolai Costello. You can't wage two wars simultaneously."That night my father called Nikolai and set up a meeting to negotiate the terms of the peace agreement.While the external war with La Cosa Nostra appeared to have subsided, a secret battle raged within me. It was a conflict tearing me apart from the inside, consuming me like a relentless fire.Now as I sat alone in my study, I opened my laptop and began my routine surveillance. It was something I had never expected to do – spying on a woman. Yet, somebody had made a careless mistake by not checking the most obvious places.I, Vincenzo Fucking Capone, was stalking a woman...˜”*°• Claire •°*”˜I paused at the entrance of the community center, my heart racing. It was a familiar place, but the anxiety still gripped me every time I walked through those doors. The room carried a distinctive blend of scents – freshly brewed coffee mixed with the clean smell of disinfectant.Whispers and soft conversations floated through the air as people gathered, clutching their cups of coffee like they were a lifeline.In the middle of the room, a circle of chairs awaited, each one different from the next – some old, wooden, and worn, while others offered soft cushions. A low table at the center held pamphlets, recovery books, and a box for anonymous contributions.Stepping further inside, my eyes scanned the diverse group already seated. There were those with wrinkles etched deep into their faces, evidence of the battles they had fought for years. Then, there were younger folks, their expressions a mix of hope and apprehension.I swallowed hard, mustering a smile as I found
˜”*°• Claire •°*”˜The sun bathed my small neighborhood as I walked on the sidewalks to get to the annual charity bake sale, I had baskets of freshly baked cupcakes, doughnuts, and cookies in my hands. I specifically wore a white dress adorned with bright yellow sunflowers, perfectly matching my yellow stilettoes. I passed by Mrs. Johnson watering her plants or vegetables, I don't have much information about gardening, "Hi, Mrs. Johnson! How's your garden doing?" Mrs. Johnson waved back, "Oh, the cucumbers are growing like crazy! And thank you again for the meals that you cooked for me." "Don't sweat it!" I shouted back. I reached the community park and set up my booth, covered in pastel-colored decorations that I made by myself. I arranged my cupcakes topped with swirls of neon frosting, doughnuts in every color of the rainbow, and cookies shaped like playful emojis over my booth. The aroma of freshly baked sweets wafted through the air. A little girl approached the table, her
˜”*°• Claire •°*”˜I walked into the elevator, running my fingers through my hair as I looked back at François from over my shoulder. His eyes were on my ass as he followed me in. Gladly none of his bodyguards dared to follow us, so things like this must be a routine for Mr. De La Fontaine. I leaned against the wall, watching as he confidently strolled beside me and the doors closed. My eyes went to the security camera in the corner, I knew Alessandro must be watching. François didn't waste any time, he grabbed me by my waist and slammed me into his body. His hands went over to my asscheeks and he delivered a slap. I was used to this, been doing this for years. Being a seducer/bait for an organization like the Cosa Nostra wasn't for the faint-hearted girlies.I let out a small laugh, moving my head to the side as he nuzzled his face into my neck. There was a gun strapped to my thigh, in case things got out of hand. I faked moaning as he licked the top of my breasts. The elevator do
˜”*°• Claire •°*”˜What does he think of himself? Who the hell is he to barge into our territory and judge me for the way I live my life? What was his fucking problem? That humongous dick. Grumbling to myself, I got out and slammed the car door shut. The driver shot me a disapproving glare, his eyes darting between me and the car door. In response, I flashed a sheepish smile, trying to smooth things over. "Sorry…" I mumbled, but my frustration still simmered beneath the surface.He drove off and the second I turned, I stilled. It was hard to ignore something so big, so luxurious, so beautiful parked in your driveway. A Lamborghini.A freaking Lamborghini? I couldn't believe my eyes. It was a car that belonged in dreams, an unattainable symbol of luxury. I hastily walked around it, my gaze fixated on the sleek, black beauty that glistened in the night. Even in my wildest fantasies, owning such a car was a distant dream. I'd have to work tirelessly for years to even come close to aff
Vincenzo⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅I was attracted to a prostitute... My fucked up brain could have chosen any woman, any woman in this godforsaken world but it got attracted to a prostitute but not just any prostitute—she belonged to the Cosa Nostra—who, before this peace contract had been our biggest enemies. So, here I was, not just lusting after a whore but one who was, in every way, my enemy's property.Talk about screwing with my head and my loyalties all at once.This lust-hazed attraction felt like a kick in the gut, a taunt to my principles, and a slap in the face of logic. I felt like a ticking time bomb, threatening to blow everything to hell. I was Vincenzo Capone, a man who had always prided himself on control and perfection. And now, I found myself drawn to someone who embodied everything I wasn't. It was maddening, this fixation on the imperfections that Ms. Parker carried with her. Claire Parker, with her pink hair and that dirty mouth of hers, was a far cry from the women I usua
Claire⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅Eleven Years Ago...Stars and dark blue sheets... I've spent countless nights counting every single one of these stars. One hundred and twenty-three tiny luminous dots scattered across the expanse of these dark blue sheets.At this moment, I'm not here. I'm far away, lost among the stars. I close my eyes, imagining myself twirling among them, each twinkling a distant universe, each gleaming a moment of serenity far removed from this reality.His hand, rough and oppressive, forces my face into the bed. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to shut out the world. I'm with the stars. They are my escape, my sanctuary.His heavy breaths echo loudly in the confined space, like a relentless drumbeat reverberating in my ears. I can feel the warmth of his breath on my neck, a stark contrast to the chilling touch of fear creeping through me.His voice, deep and raspy, is an unsettling presence, its timbre sending shivers down my spine. His coarse stubble grazes my sensitive skin, l
Vincenzo⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅I sat across from Sarah, the daughter of a prominent politician whom I had been seeing for the past three months even before the peace contract with the Cosa Nostra. The candlelight flickered softly, casting a warm glow on the elegant surroundings. Sarah was dressed impeccably in a designer gown, and she had that air of entitlement about her. "Sarah, you always look stunning. That dress complements your beauty," I said, At least she wasn't one of those who'd choose booty shorts as the outfit of the day. She blushed, I rarely compliment her so this must have come off as a surprise. I just had an urge to compliment her decent style. "Thank you, Vincenzo," she threw her hair behind her shoulder in an exaggerated way, "I do believe in making a statement." The more I got to know her the more I felt like I was stuck in a room with an overconfident feline, one that had all the attention but lacked the depth I sought."Making a statement is important in your world," I
Vincenzo⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∘∙⊱⋅•⋅"Nikolai had scheduled a meeting with the bastard," Dad announced, his voice carrying the weight of authority as he sat at the head of the table. "Whoever this is, we must proceed with caution. We need to find what he has on us and to what extent." I turned to Dad, inquiring, "You're going?"Dad clenched his jaw, his expression tense. "I'd rather cut off my own cock than negotiate with a lowlife gambler. Fortunately, he insisted on your presence."Aunt Alessia intervened with a resounding thump of her hand on the table, her tone commanding, "Language, everyone. Not at the dinner table."Dad grumbled under his breath, casting a disapproving glance at his sister. He had always been the one unable to say no to her, no matter the circumstances.Silvio chimed in, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes. "Can I come to New York with you guys? I haven't seen Allegra since the peace agreement."Aunt Alessia's face lit up instantly, a cheerful smile forming at the mention of