Necolai

Necolai

Screaming, pleading, it did nothing for me. I had no sympathy. Listening to those men finding religion while my Capo worked them over made me chuckle. I stubbed out my cigarette and rolled up the sleeves of shirt. Time to get to work. They don’t call me the Red Wolf for no reason. Blood will flow. Those fuckers dared to muscle in on my turf. They will pay the price.

I am Don Necolai Rosu Lupei, one of the most feared Mafia Bosses in London. My gang The Romanesco owns this part of the city. I don’t tolerate competition, especially not from scum like these human traffickers. I am going to bathe in their blood.

Last night we raided their little organization and freed seven underaged girls and two teenage boys. Those kids were lucky nothing bad had happened to them yet. My men made sure they were returned safely to their families.

I walked into the room where my Capo Salvatore aka The Switchblade was ‘handling’ the prisoners. He liked to work alone. I respected that. He was a big man, built like a truck. His face alone could strike fear into men, having a nasty looking scar lifting one side of his mouth in a permanent sneer.

“Nico, these assholes are pussies. They can’t handle a little pain.” He sneered at the four bound men who were shackled by chains hanging from the ceiling.

I had a private dungeon in my mansion especially outfitted for rubbish like these. And for some other nightly pleasures as well.  But I don’t mix business with pleasure that often.

I grinned wickedly at the terrified men. Sal’s switchblade left little bloody kisses over their faces. They think they know terror. They haven’t seen anything yet.

“Who do you work for?” I asked them with no threat in my voice.

“Please, please we will tell you everything! Just don’t kill us.” One of the men, I would say he was not even thirty years old pleaded with me.

I hated whiners.

Sal stood watching me, cleaning his beloved blade with loving strokes with one of my prisoner’s T-shirts. I took the man’s face in my hand, letting my nails dig into his baby face. He whimpered. Our faces were close together. My eyes turned from green to yellow, my wolf peeking out at the frightened man. He pissed himself.

“What the… what are you?” he gasped.

“I thought I asked you a question?” I said, lowering my voice.

“We…They will kill us.” Another man warned the younger one. “Shut up.”

They were dead either way. Idiots.

“The Snake Man.” The youngster cried out. “He… he’s from the east borough.”

I released his face. “Was that so hard?” I’ve heard the name before. Well, I reckoned it was time to send him a message.

I unbuttoned my shirt and took it off. I hated ruining my clothes. My shoes and jeans followed until I stood only in under jocks. Sal knew what was to follow and he left. He always left when I was about to shift. The men’s faces were puzzled. Soon they will know real fear.

I fell onto my knees, breathing through the pain of my bones rearranging themselves.

“Oh, God! He’s not human!”

Grunting turning into howling.

“What kind of monster is this?!”

Hair appearing all over my body.

Screaming, praying…

Fangs and claws. I shook myself, shifting completely into my red wolf. I watch the men with my yellow eyes squirming, straining at their bonds. Growling low in my throat I padded towards them, tail and ears erect.

***

Appearing from the shower, having washed away the blood and guts from my body, I pulled on clean clothes. Black jeans, black Tee, white sneakers. I checked myself in the mirror, ran my hands roughly through my ginger hair. Sal waited for me outside my bedroom.

“We’ve cleaned up the mess, Nico.”

I grunted. “Good, you know where to deliver them?” Sal was the only one who knew my real identity. I was a werewolf, a lone wolf in the city. Being banished out of my pack by my Alpha father I went to live in the city among the humans.

He hated my guts, because my mother had a one nightstand before she met him, and I was the result. If it wasn’t for her pleading for me, he would have killed me a long time ago. Before I turned sixteen however, he found a reason to get rid of me.

“Yeah, on it.” Sal said. “What I found out about this gang, you can be sure they will retaliate, Nico.”

Bring it on.

“Are you concerned?” I asked, smirking.

“Fuck, no.” he laughed. “They will be no match for us, Nico. But I’ve got other bad news.” He cracked his knuckles.

He followed me outside where we both stood on the balcony lighting up a smoke. We watched as my horses were being led out of the stables. They were my pride and joy. I loved watching them run free in the meadow.

“Okay, so who fucked up?” I asked Sal. He didn’t look happy.

“Vulpe, the Fox.” Sal grimaced.

“What?” I was shocked. He was one of my best captains. “What the hell did he do?”

“Skimmed money off the drug shipment. He was clever but he made one little mistake and The Accountant picked it up.”

It figures. Four-eyes Frank, aka The Accountant never missed a thing. I only employed the best.

“Damn it, I never figured he would be so stupid. We’ll have to pay him a visit, Sal.” I wasn’t looking forward to it, but I couldn't let it slide.

Sal flicked the butt of his cigarette over the balcony. “I’ll get the car.” he said and left.

***

The 1967 Rolls Royce Phantom pulled up into the driveway of the Vulpe home. It was a modest, semi-detached building, nothing too flashy about it. The car I knew would attract some attention from the neighbors, but what the hell. I inherited it from my mentor Big Jim aka The Moneymaker and I fucking loved this car.

Sal, myself and Ricci the driver went up to the front door and rang the bell. A small, attractive woman opened the door. Vulpe’s wife.

“Mr. Lupei? What brings you by this late?” she asked, opening the door wider to let us in.

“Where is he?” I was not one for small talk.

She looked scared. She should be. I heard her heart beating wildly.

“Take a seat. I’ll get him.” She led the way to the living room.

We looked out of place in the neat interior of the living room. Everything so pristine, white couches, blue armchairs. Modest paintings adorned the wall, landscapes mostly.  Nothing really fancy. So, where did the money go? My money.

Vulpe stepped into the room. He wasn’t a large man, short and slight with thinning black hair and flighty brown eyes flitting from me to Sal and Ricci and back to me.

“Alexi.” I extended my hand to him.

He took it after hesitating a moment. Just a moment that told me, he knew his shit was about to get real.

“Nico, let me explain…” he started.

I backhanded him once, sending him flying into one of his white couches, spitting blood over the fabric. That was going to leave a stain, I thought.

“What I don’t understand is, how did you think you would get away with it, Alexi. And I really want to understand.” I took off my jacket.

Vulpe’s wife came back, and I motioned for Ricci to stop her. She screamed insults at Ricci in Romanian.

He sprawled over the couch, holding his bleeding nose. “I’ll pay you back, Nico. I promise, every last pound. Just don’t hurt my family.” At least he wasn’t begging for his life. Yet.

“Two million pounds, Alexi. Where do you propose to get that kind of money?” I asked, moving closer to him.

He didn’t answer. I grabbed him by the scruff of his scrawny neck and pulled him towards me.

“What did you do with the money?” I needed to understand. “Answer me, god damnit!” I snarled in his face.

He went red in the face. “To pay off a debt!”

I pressed hard at the back of his neck, hearing the bones creaking under the pressure.

“A gambling debt. I’m sorry, Nico.” The man started to sob. I threw him towards Sal and sat down on the couch.

Sal forced him down on his knees. His shoulders shook from crying. His wife still ranted and raved at Ricci who refused to let her pass.

“How many fingers, Nico?” Sal asked taking out his beloved blade.

I sighed thinking about the mess this was going to make.

“Please, please… I’ll do anything.” He begged, snot and blood spewed out his nose.

Now there was the words I was waiting for.