Chapter Six

Lorenzo POV

It’s been two weeks since Matteo moved in and I would say everything is great. Sure sometimes I think he might murder me in my sleep but he hasn’t tried so far.

I still don’t like the girl he brought along, Riley. She hasn’t caused any trouble yet and I am grateful, my life is stressful as it is. My car pulls up at one of our casinos. Its during the day so of course it isn’t busy, but here and there you can find some gamblers who just don’t know when to quit.

There are servers around so I flash my harmless play boy smile, I swear it still does something to the ladies. Most give me cautious smiles or avoid eye contact completely. They work here so of course they know what I do. But they don’t mind, I pay well.

I hardly go to the casinos and clubs, I prefer handling everything in my very legal and very non threatening five star hotel.

Instead of making my way to the office I go to the basement aka the place we keep our enemies. Every one of my businesses has one.

Enzo says they caught a maker of the triad trying to buy out my business. They are like damn cockroaches. They have never been bold enough to openly challenge the New York mafia but now it seems they have a death wish. Honestly I expect this from the bratva not Asian triads.

I take the hidden stairs down. The manager offers to escort me but I don’t let her. The place is isolated and I don’t really know her, what if she pushes me or stabs me in the back, I would be dead before I drew a weapon. I know, I am paranoid and some people would say I should let her walk in front of me or that she has a pink clipboard and a cupcake hairclip on her hair. But never underestimate people, especially people who love tacky things.

That aside I may or may not want her to see my hands shaking and potentially hear me hyperventilating in the small dark place. My former therapist, the one Giana insists I should visit again said I am claustrophobic because of ‘trauma’.

Bitch please, I torture people and run a crime ring I think being chained to the wall in my father’s torture room at least twice a week since I was five doesn’t qualify as trauma.

I am so grateful when I see an opening at the bottom of the stairs. I mean I hate cramped dark spaces but when I finally see an open space it is like heaven to me. If God is real and for some fucked up reason I do go to heaven then I want it to be a large space with wine and family. When I picture family I think of Matteo, Giana and even Enzo, though I will stab myself before I ever admit that.

There are a couple of doors but I can only hear screams from one. Its a sick but welcomed distraction from my feelings.

Enzo as if sensing my presence comes out of the door. He is way younger than me but definitely more mature. He is always stoic like batman. I clear my head ‘like batman’ I can’t believe that even crossed my head, nope Giana should go back to school. I blame all of the batman and Robin cartoons she made me watch.

“He refuses to talk but I think he has important information.” Enzo continues completely unbothered by my internal monologue.

“Why do you think he has something to hide?”

“Well first of all why go to the heart of our territory when he could poach one of the restaurants outside our territory.”

My gears turn.

“Do you think they know the restaurant is a front for the lab.”

Enzo nod grimly. The Mexican restaurant has been one of our biggest drug producers for years thanks to the agreement we have with them.

“Aren’t some of our men supposed to be there.”

Enzo shakes his head.

“Wednesday, they usually transport today.”

And I catch on to what he is saying. The triads knew our men were not there, they thought they could offer a deal to the owner and steal one of our best labs. What they don’t know is that part of our agreement with the owner required us to get his wife and children visas and pay for their education. Backing out of the deal would mean giving up his family. My guess is he called Enzo the moment the guy made a proposal.

“Okay vary the transport days and only inform warehouse an hour to delivery just in case.” With that I walk into the torture room.

He is chained to a chair and hooked up to an IV. One eye has swelled shut and two of his fingers are missing. I can also see blood sipping through his faded shirt. He is not a high ranking member so he probably doesn’t know much.

“Do you have anything useful that may or may nor spare your life?” I am direct and simple. I do not have time for games and as much as I would personally yank a tooth or two out I can’t because I have a meeting tonight and no spare clothes.

He laughs hysterically and spits. “Yeah. You don’t know what’s coming.”

I quirks my brow, intrigued.

“And what is coming?”

“I will never tell you that.” He is smiling and his eyes are daring me to try and get it out of him. I know his type, I have tortured and killed enough to know. His manic smile and the suicidal glint in his eyes. He’d rather die than reveal something. Most lower members are like that. Once you climb the ranks the blind loyalty is replaced with games and politics. Most will sell out for their life but not all.

I sigh. Enzo is behind me and silent.

“Kill him and send him back.”

With that I leave and spend the rest of my day doing paperwork who knew being a don had more paperwork and political than action.

In the evening I pull up in one of my clubs. Dante had been gracious enough to meet me here. In my world there are two type of leaders, the cool calculating one and the hot headed maniac who kills everything on sight. I pride myself as the cool guy who loves to be underestimated until I am not. Dante is oddly a mixture of both. He will give you a talk on wine culture one minute and the next slit your throat and lick your blood of his knife. I don’t know about the licking part it is a rumour. He is the son of the don of the Vitale famiglia, a family known for its assassins and mercenaries. Exactly the type of allies I needed.

I heard the bratva had been messing with their weapon shipment. Honestly they had been fucking with all the mafia territories but we are too proud to admit it and work together. But I am not to proud.

Dante and I settle in the VIP area that is empty tonight. First we get drinks as is custom. I have two guns and a knife. I know he does too. But we take out a gun each to symbolise we haven’t come for bloodshed. He has two men who stand outside the club and one next to the VIP section. If he hadn’t agreed to meet me deep in my territory him bringing guards would be considered an insult.

We are about to start our talks when something pulls me to the dance floor below. At the centre of the floor in matching black and white dresses are Giana and Riley. Dante seemingly following my gaze sees them.

“No disrespect don but isn’t that your daughter?” Dante asks his voice carrying a tone of amusement. Giana is a lady in our circles and is respected as one. Her being here dancing in this club, wearing whatever hand towel she picked from the rack is an insult to me and to her honour.

Next to her Riley is swaying her hips like a pro. Makes me wonder how many times she has done it. But that isn’t the fucking point, she has corrupted my daughter and where the fuck is Vittorio.