Protection Money From the Wrong Man, Your Don のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

The second I answered, Bianca’s scream almost blew out my eardrum.“You fucking hung up on me?!”I could hear men laughing in the background, the clinking of glasses.“My cousin is right here with me!” Bianca’s voice was hysterical with triumph. “Marco, say something to this bartender who doesn’t know his place!”The phone was passed over.“Kid, this is Marco,” a rough voice growled. “Get your ass to the Phantom Lounge. Now. You’re covering our tab, then you’re driving us home. Do that, and I might put you on the VIP floor.”The VIP section?I couldn’t help but chuckle. “And you have the authority for that, Manager Marco?”According to family rules, the VIP section is for our most important allies. Any staff change for that area has to be approved by me.“Authority?” Marco grunted. “Kid, you know how long I’ve been here? Five years, three months! I can make or break anyone I want in this place.”Bianca chimed in loudly, “Yeah! That old bartender Sal, the one who was here for twenty yea

Marco shoved his phone in my face.“Make the transfer. Now!” he urged impatiently. “I don’t have all day.”More and more employees were gathering around. Some were whispering, some giving me looks of pity. A few were secretly filming, waiting for the show.Bianca stood next to Marco, her eyes gleaming with vengeful delight, already imagining me on my knees, begging.I scanned the crowd, then asked calmly, “Manager Marco, does every employee have to pay this five-thousand-dollar fee?”Marco hesitated for a second, then sneered. “Of course not. This is a special ‘handling fee.’ For guys like you who slip in through the back door.”“Processing fee?” I raised an eyebrow.“That’s right!” Bianca added proudly. “You broke the rules getting hired. My cousin is helping you smooth things over. What’s wrong with him getting paid for his trouble? Getting to drive me, having my cousin deal with you personally… you’re lucky!”I looked at the two of them and had to laugh.“And if I refuse?”Marco’s f

I let out a short, quiet laugh. I looked at Marco with something like amusement."Then tell me. What should a Don look like?"Marco swallowed hard, but he was too stubborn to back down. He kept running his mouth."A real Don wears custom Armani! He drives a Maybach S600! He sits in his lakefront mansion with the AC blasting!" He got more worked up as he spoke, like it would prove he was right. "Not like you! Wearing rags, driving a piece-of-shit car, hanging out with lowlifes!"Bianca was beside him, nodding like a maniac. She even made a show of it."That's right! If he's the real Don, I swear I'll lick the front doors of the club clean with my own tongue!"A few of the workers snickered.Vincent looked like he was about to have a stroke.He took a deep breath, and his voice exploded like thunder."EVERYBODY SHUT UP!"The roar killed the laughter instantly.Vincent pointed a stern finger at me. He announced, word by word:"This man is the new Don of the Grimaldi family—Mr. Nico Grimal

I frowned at Marco's pathetic display."'Blood and sweat?'" I repeated his words, my voice like a razor's edge. "Marco, is 'busting your ass' what you call shaking down our own people for 'protection' money?"Marco froze, but he still tried to argue. "Don, it wasn't protection money!" he said, waving his hands frantically. "It was an operations fund! For building connections, recruiting top talent! Look, I brought in over a hundred new people in five years...""Recruiting?" I scoffed. "What about old Sal? A loyal soldier for twenty years. What value did he create for you rotting in a warehouse?"Marco panicked. "Sal... he has a bad temper! He was always fighting with the new guys, bad for morale! I did it for harmony in the club...""Harmony?" I was done listening to his bullshit.I stood up, my voice filling the room. "Marco, I remember your cousin Bianca bragging about a few things."Marco’s face went chalk white."She said you had a plan. A plan to bring your whole family, men and w

"We don't go to war yet," I told Antonio calmly. "Let them show their whole hand. Then we close the net."Antonio was silent for a few seconds. "I understand, Don," he said, the disappointment clear in his voice.The next morning, driving to the club, I saw the back entrance was blocked.Three black, unlicensed vans were parked across the alley. A dozen tattooed thugs stood around them, holding baseball bats and crowbars.They were stopping every delivery truck, yelling that they wanted "the Don to explain himself."I stayed in the car, watching through the bulletproof glass. They were just pawns. Street muscle the Romanos were using.They thought they were fighting for "justice."They didn't know they were just pieces on a board, ready to be sacrificed.I took out my phone and sent Antonio a short message:"The fish are biting. Close the net."That night, in the secret conference hall in the mansion's basement.This was the most secure room in the Grimaldi family.Around the massive c