We sat around the conference room, in the Vitale skyrise building, the entire Manhattan view stretching on the west wall. The meeting was with the top members of the Columbian crime organization. There were only two of them along with Cassio and myself. We had to keep it low and under the radar. I sent everyone home and ensured there was nobody around to bear witness to this. Luca had ensured that; there was nobody better than him at ensuring people were invisible and things remained unseen. It was Luca’s forté.
Just like guns were Alessio’s forté, laundering money was mine, and drugs were Cassio’s and Nico’s. Raphael Santos did a bit of everything but human trafficking was a leftover legacy of his father’s that he was working on wiping out. We all did a few other things on the side and had legitimate fronts, usually in the form of casinos, but if I needed a drug shipment, usually I went to Cassio and Nico. For guns, it was always Alessio. Anyone that needed money cleaned, they came to me. There was nobody better at it than Vitale men.
My phone beeped. Throwing a glance at it, I noted a reply from the Ghost. I tilted my phone to Cassio to share the message. We shared a look. I wasn’t surprised that the fifth request in less than fifteen days to launder our money was rejected. Neither was Cassio. Nobody wanted to attract attention to themselves.
The Ghost didn’t know it, but it was a test, to ensure we could control the transactions over the next few months. I needed to know which one of my runners would be tempted to get greedy and potentially jump ship when Alphonso reached out to them. He would soon try to do that.
I quickly typed a message back.
To: The Ghost
From: Ruthless King
Good answer. I’d like to book the next six months of your exclusive services. Max three times per month, as initially agreed. Monthly retention two hundred thousand. The percentage fee per transaction remains the same. You accommodate nobody else.
K
That should be clear enough. The last sentence wasn’t necessary, but I inserted it to ensure there was no misunderstanding. There was no room for misinterpretation.
I often wondered who the Ghost was. Every runner I used, I had their picture and their phone number. If they fucked me over, I’d be able to hunt them down. Except for the Ghost. That one kept tight security walls, scripted messages, and stuck to codenames. Right upfront the terms were established – no calls, no laundering for human traffickers or sex traders of any kind, no names, limit to three times per month with maximum amount ten million per month.
Right off the bat, I was impressed. In fact, within the first three months of business dealings with the Ghost, I offered them a job on my payroll and found it amusing when it was refused. Several times.
“The first shipment the Romano family expects is in two weeks’ time,” the head of the Columbian crime organization, Raphael Santos, announced. He was a tough guy but he hated moving flesh. Luckily for me, he owed me a big favor and would play this game. “He wants drugs and women.”
He will get neither.
When Lombardo Santos died, he left an unpaid debt to Benito King and Alphonso Romano. For the women that were in transit to be delivered to those two assholes. Raphael freed them – without second thoughts or worry to himself. Some he sent back to their homes, others he helped settle all across the States. He needed cash to pay Benito and Alphonso back, with a hefty interest. And that was where I came in. After all, I was the money guy. So, I helped him. Of course, in the process he pissed off Benito and Alphonso. It was an added bonus in my book. The only regret was that those two tried to go after his half-sister.
With Raphael running Florida’s underworld, we had the entire East Coast covered. It made Alphonso’s and Benito’s job much harder in smuggling. They even attempted to do it through Vasili’s territory in Russia. Idiots! The Nikolaev family had connections all over that country.
Coincidently, Raphael’s half-sister was married to Vasili Nikolaev. The latter was never our enemy, but he liked to keep to himself and run his own empire. That was fine, but it never hurt to have people on your side. Especially badass guys like Vasili. His connection with Raphael afforded us this. Likewise, it also offered them protection by us as well. When Raphael found out he had a sister, he kept it tight lipped. He only shared it with me, Cassio, Luca and our little gang. It was to conceal his knowledge of the connection with her from the Romano family and Benito King. Those two already tried to kidnap her and the latter two thinking Raphael was clueless played in his favor.
“He needs the first batch of money cleaned next week,” he continued. “He is getting payments in advance of the shipment so he can pay us.” This meant that Romano would soon start reaching out to the runners. He would need someone to clean his dirty money. It wouldn’t be me, and if I could help it, it wouldn’t be any of my good runners either.
“Isn’t he a lucky bastard?”
Raphael grinned. “A very lucky bastard. Even luckier when he doesn’t get it.”
Yes, Alphonso Romano is going down. I would sip on my cognac as I watched him drown. Nothing would bring me more pleasure. I hated the entire Romano family. They killed my mother and sister, and now my wife too. I shouldn’t mourn her, after all she was a Romano. And she betrayed me, but the thought of never having that woman under me did something to my sanity.
Today the court would decide whether all my wife’s assets would be rolled to her uncle. He wouldn’t have long to enjoy it; none of his family would. I would be their judge, jury, and executioner.
A few more arrangements and the meeting was over.
Raphael and I shook hands, the mutual understanding we held bound us together. “When this is over, don’t call me again, Luciano.”
I grinned. “Oh, don’t be like that. I thought you liked me.”
He grinned back. “I do, but there are limits to how much.”
Once those two were out, I glanced at Cassio. “Have you heard back from the Irish, the Italian Dons, the Russian Sinners, and the rest of the Russian Bratva?”
He nodded. “None of them will do any business with the Romano family. Of course, with the exception of my bastard father.”
“Benito King will get his,” I told him. “I know you and your brother have big plans for him.”
Nobody knew the details, but it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. I strode to the mini bar, pouring us a drink, and one for Luca. He’d be here any moment.
“Luciano, have you thought about-” his words trailed off, but I knew it was coming. And nobody else dared to bring it up. Because I’d smash their face with my bare hands. Cassio was my best friend, but also a man I respected. I had no doubt that eventually he’d overtake his father and rule Benito’s empire, maybe even expand it. I wanted to rule the underworld currency. Cassio wanted to rule all the criminals – and there were plenty that feared him. He felt it was the only way to control human trafficking. Maybe he was right; maybe he wasn’t. Either way, smashing his face, as tempting as it sounded about now, would bring a shitstorm to my front door, which I didn’t have time for right now. “The way you are glaring at me, I can tell you want to beat my ass. But there hasn’t been a single sighting of her in over three years.”
Yes, smashing his face was tempting. Maybe even his ribs.
“Damn straight.” I gulped the entire drink down, the brown liquid burning down my throat. Just like my guilt. If I listened to her, she’d still be here… with me. I should have chained her to my bed and cut all her ties with her family. It should have been me punishing her, not her uncle. Not her fucking family.
Luca strode into the room, and I handed him his drink.
“If she is dead, you have to move on,” Cassio tried again. If she was dead, I’d never marry again. Yes, I’d take other women to bed, but none of them would ever become my wife. I thought back to those first few months when I tried to fuck any woman, as long as she didn’t resemble my wife. I wanted to hurt my wife, the way she fucking stabbed me in the back, in the heart. Only to find she had disappeared, and her uncle was the one that used her. She was too fucking naive. I shouldn’t have sent her back.
“My resource sent me a message saying Alphonso’s request got denied,” Luca chimed in.
My head snapped to him. Did that mean there was hope my wife was alive?
“They are keeping it low, but apparently a scripted message came indicating his niece was alive and well. With a picture taken within the last year, nonetheless.”
“A lot can happen in a year.” Cassio was trying to stop Luca from giving me hope, but I clung to it like a man dying of thirst. Yes, it was stupid considering she’d betrayed me. She probably wouldn’t hesitate to betray me again. If Grace was anything, it was loyal to a fault… just not to me.
“Agreed, but Alphonso Romano claimed his niece was killed over three years ago. His evidence was a three-year-old street surveillance footage with a gun pressed to her temple,” Luca responded. Silence lingered, and we all knew what surveillance Alphonso got his hands on. “By you, Luciano.” It was the footage from that day when I pulled a trigger on her. When I ignored her pleas and watched her tear freeze on her cheek, right along with my heart. “I’m sure you can appreciate the discrepancy in the story.”
I nodded. Someone didn’t want Alphonso to get his filthy hands on his niece’s fortune. The question was how would Alphonso get his hands on that piece of evidence. All of that surveillance data was wiped off, right after Grace was dropped off at the Romano doorstep.
“Could you get the picture?” I shouldn’t ask, but fuck it, why not?
“I thought you’d ask,” he muttered under his breath as he pulled out his phone. “Coming your way.”
My cell beeped, and I had never reached for my phone so fast. I swiped open the picture and enlarged the photo on my iPhone.
A familiar face of a young woman stared at me. A wide smile on her face as she glanced over her shoulder at whoever called out to her. Her face was free of make-up, her eyes a striking color against the blue of her dress. Her full lips tempted a saint; lush, red, and fuck, the naughty words she could come up with. I knew firsthand how good those lips could feel, especially around my cock. A twinge echoed in my chest, and I had to push it away, focusing back on the photo. She wore a light blue summer dress that made her eyes even more striking. She combined it with a large sun hat. I still remembered her fair skin complexion. She was always diligent about applying sunscreen and wearing hats, even in the middle of the winter.
Yes, it was my wife alright.
She didn’t seem heartbroken anymore. Her smile was radiant, her eyes twinkling, and whoever she glanced at must have been important to her. It was that peculiar look she had for people she loved or cared about. The soft look and intimate smile played on her face.
I studied the picture, noting a sign behind her. Zooming in on it, I tried to read it. See You Festival, Freiburg.
Germany? Was that where my wife was hiding?
“Is that really her?” Luca asked curiously. Raising my head, I noted Cassio studying the picture too. Nobody had ever seen her except for my family. It was by the design. First because I was using her and then because I was jealous as fuck. She was too young for me, but like a thief in the night, I took her and spoiled her for anyone else. I stole her innocence, enjoying every inch of her body while ruining her. And I’d be a fucking liar if I said I didn’t enjoy every goddamn second of it.
“Yes.” A curt answer as I felt the familiar jealousy brimming inside me.
“Fuck, she is hot,” Luca muttered, his eyes never leaving her photo on his phone. “I’d totally do her.”
One second my back was to him and the next I faced him, my arm choking the life out of him, his eyes full of surprise. I had no idea how it happened. It must have been a goddamn reflex. My body pinned Luca against the wall as my elbow pushed against his neck, the jealousy and rage swimming through my brain like a red smoky haze.
“Nobody will do her,” I growled in rage.
“Fuck, Luciano,” Cassio barked out, trying to peel me off his brother. Unsuccessfully. “Are you crazy?”
“Delete. Her. Picture.” My voice dripped with fury, ready to beat the living shit out of him.
“Jesus, man. Get yourself together,” Luca spoke, although his airflow was somewhat obstructed. “It was just an observation. I didn’t say I will fuck her.”
“Shut the fuck up, Luca,” Cassio scolded his younger brother. “Luciano, he’ll delete the picture. Actually, I’ll do it myself. Let go of him. And get yourself together.”
I took a step back, but I kept towering over Luca, the adrenaline rushing through my body. Three years and six months – and I still felt that raging possessiveness. Even worse than before, it would seem.
My wife would be the death of me, and she wasn’t even in the close proximity.
“Here! All deleted.” Cassio pointed the phone my way. He didn’t need to show me; I knew he’d do it. I gave him a jerky nod and then returned my attention to his brother.
“Don’t talk about my wife that way,” I gritted out.
He stared at me with a knowing look, but he didn’t know shit. Nobody did.
“So, she’s definitely alive,” Cassio muttered. “I hate to say this, Luciano, but if her uncle is trying to take all her inheritance, the likelihood she is working with him is slim.”
That crossed my mind, too, the moment I heard he was petitioning for my wife’s money.
“Unless, she wants the world to believe she is dead,” Luca countered, “and her uncle is the only way she can get her hands on it.”
And I thought about that too. Goddamn it, I needed to get my hands on my wife and find out all their damn secrets. Their plans.
