An annoyed sigh escapes me while I listen to Frankie make another excuse about why he can’t pay me this month. This is where I’m different than Carmine. I have the tendency to give a little leeway to the people I like and I really like Frankie. He’s good people. He means well. He’s only trying to keep his Italian restaurant alive.
I don’t blame him. It’s a great place to eat. One of my favorites. His Nona is sweet and makes everything by hand, which is another reason why I’ve gone easy on him. Nona holds a special place in my heart. Maybe it’s because I never knew my grandparents and she reminds me of the grandmother I wish I would have had.
But even my kindness has limits.
I do not like being taken advantage of.
The restaurant is closed on Sundays so they can prepare for the week, so I came in to settle the business we have with one another.
I’m at the table, swirling the pasta around my fork. They have the best pasta in the city. I hate to know this will be the last time I eat here.
“Mr. Milazzo—” Frankie begins, voice trembling out of fear.
I hold up my finger to silence him, enjoying the last of my lunch. When I’m done, I push the plate aside and wipe my mouth, then take a swig of the wine that pairs perfectly with my meal.
I lean back in the booth, the soft cushion giving against my shoulders. I fold my hands on the table and gesture for Gianni.
He places a long, silver knife in front of me, and I give him a nod.
“Frankie,” I begin with a sigh. “I like you.” I give him an honest, big smile. “I do. You’re a good guy. You work hard. I like a hard worker.”
“Th-Thank you, Mr. Milazzo.” His eyes never leave the knife I have in front of me. Sweat beads on his forehead, the sheen glistening under the lights. “I like you too. You’ve been good to my family.”
I take the knife in my hand and tap the tip into the table, leaving small dots. “I have been, which is why I’m here, because Frankie—” I lean forward, “—you haven’t been good to me.” My voice deepens with aggravation. “You’ve taken advantage of me.”
“No, no. Mr. Milazzo. I can explain.”
Before he can say another word, I snag the knife and stab his hand, locking him against the table.
He shouts in agony, trying to lift his hand free, but Gianni presses the handle down so Frankie can’t move.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he cries, blood dripping down the silver blade and onto the table. “I’ll do whatever you want. Things haven’t been good here. I’ve been trying to get you your money, Mr. Milazzo. I promise.”
“I’ve given you two months, Frankie. Two months.” I slap my hand on the table so hard that the silverware shakes against the plates. I wipe my hand over my mouth, trying to control my anger. “You’re taking advantage of my kindness. See, that’s what happens when you give someone leeway. I shouldn’t have, because now you think you can do it whenever you want. And you can’t.” I fold my arms on the table and lean forward. “You wanted a loan. I gave you the loan because I love your Nona. She’s sweet and innocent in this so she’ll be safe. You owe me ten thousand dollars, Frankie.”
“I can…I can’t give you all of it. I can give you half of it? And then I can just have another two weeks for the rest. I can get it to you then.”
I grab the knife keeping his hand against the table and stand, leaning my weight against the handle and he screams. I twist the blade and his screams become broken gasps of air and unstable shouts. Music to my ears.
“Here is the thing. I’m new to this position, right? You’re used to my big brother. You thought maybe you’d be able to skirt by, but I’m not that new. I’ve been doing this a long time by my brother’s side.” I twist the knife again before jerking it from his hand, freeing him from the table.
He shivers from the pain and holds his hand to his chest. Spit drips from his bottom lip and down his chin as he tries to catch his breath. His nostrils flex in as he breaths in as deep as he can, then expand as he releases the air.
“That’s it. Breathe through the pain.” I place the knife against his throat and his entire body trembles so much, the edge of the knife nicks his neck. Not enough to cut his jugular, but enough for him to realize he needs to stop moving. “Tell my men where the money is.”
“Kitchen. Look in the fridge that doesn’t work. Five thousand is there.”
“And the other five thousand? I’m not waiting until next week. I’ve waited long enough.” I turn to look at Gianni and tilt my chin to the kitchen for him to go get the cash.
Without another word, he walks away, vanishing between the swinging doors.
“I don’t have anything else.”
I lean down and whisper in his ear. “I think you’re lying.”
“I swear, I’m not. I’m not, Mr. Milazzo. I swear to you. I promise!” he cries.
I lift his injured hand, dripping in blood, and notice the large gold ring on his finger with a big emerald sitting in the middle. “This seems to be worth something. A few thousand at least.” I shove his hand against the table and slam the knife down on the finger, slicing it clean.
Frankie screams at the top of his lungs and my ears ring. I take the napkin from my plate and pick up his finger, tugging the ring from it.
“I found five thousand like he said and another three hidden in the freezer,” Gianni announces, tossing the bag on the ground by his feet.
I yank Frankie’s head back by his hair, his hand against his chest, and his shirt ruined with blood. “You lied to me. I fucking hate liars. The ten thousand you owe me is paid in full but you’ve made an enemy of me now. If you need me, I will not help you. Do you understand?”
He nods, his face pale and clammy. “I understand. I’m sorry, Mr. Milazzo. I was trying to save the money for—”
“I don’t give a fuck what it was for. You owed me. You made a deal with me.” I shout in his face, then grip his chin. “Give your Nona my love, okay?” I tap his cheek and tuck the ring in my pocket. Releasing him, I walk away, my men right behind me.
I get in the back of the car while Gianni gets into the driver’s seat.
“You’re going to do very well, Mr. Milazzo.”
I roll my eyes. “Gianni. How many times do I need to tell you? Call me Ari. Please. We’re friends, you know. Unless you forgot.”
“I didn’t, but you’re my boss too, and you just chopped off someone’s finger. I’ll stay formal for now if you don’t mind,” he teases.
Two other men who work for me climb into the SUV behind us and they follow as Gianni drives us back home to the estate.
The drive is quick since the Italian restaurant is so close to where we live. I barely have time to get comfortable before Gianni is pressing in the code for the front gate to open.
“I want you to get this ring estimated and cashed in,” I say as we come to a stop, tossing him the emerald piece of jewelry from the backseat.
He catches it without looking.
“I’ll have it done by the end of the day.”
I step out of the car and make my way up the steps just as my cellphone rings.
It’s Carmine.
I put it on speaker as I head into my office. “Hello?”
“Are you okay? Matias told me about Frankie.”
“Everything is fine. Matias has a big mouth.” I roll my eyes while my oldest brother, Carmine, checks in for the fifth time this morning. I had to ignore him the four other times since I was preoccupied with Frankie.
I’ll have to somehow stop my twin from divulging everything I do to our eldest sibling.
“You can’t be too sure, Ari. You have to stay alert. You have to—maybe I need to come back. I need to prepare you more. I don’t know if you’re ready.”
Matias, my twin comes into the office and takes a seat, and snorts when he hears Carmine.
Carmine grumbles. “Am I on speaker?”
“Absolutely not, big brother. I know how much you hate that.” I lift my finger to my lips, telling Matias to be quiet.
He zips his lips but still smiles when Carmine goes on about the family business.
We’re mafia. I don’t know why he tiptoes around the damn word so much. He is intent on calling it an organization, but I’m going to call it what it is.
Carmine has stepped down so he can focus on his family. His children are over ten years old, and his wife wanted to see the world, so he decided it was time to take a step down and hand me the crown.
I don’t know why he didn’t choose Matias. My twin is calmer and more collected, and his sense of humor isn’t as loud; he definitely isn’t as vulgar because he doesn’t curse as much as I do. I wasn’t the best choice, but when Carmine asked me, I couldn’t say no. He believed in me, and I couldn’t let him down.
“Bianchi isn’t someone to fuck around with. He’s close to the territory. You’ll need to up—”
“—Security,” I say on an exhale, swiveling around in the big leather chair. “I know, Carmine. You forget I’ve watched you do this since I was a boy. I know all the ins and outs. You don’t have to worry, and I won’t be afraid to ask for help if I need it.” I won’t ever ask him for help, but I know it will make him feel better. “Carmine, everything is okay. I have Gianni and Matias. Everything is quiet right now.”
Carmine groans and so does Matias.
“I knew I was on speaker!” he yells.
I narrow my eyes at my twin. “You aren’t on speaker. That was…it doesn’t matter what it was. What’s the big deal?”
“You said quiet. Nothing ever remains quiet. You’ve jinxed yourself.”
“You sound too much like your wife,” I mumble, but a smile takes over my face in the next second. I like her. She’s a great influence on Carmine and they have amazing kids. I love my nieces and nephews.
It’s empty in the house without them. It reminds me of the time when Carmine didn’t have his wife and the house was silent with business.
“My wife always seems to be right,” he says, and I can hear the happiness drip from his voice.
Gianni bursts through the office doors without knocking, his mouth tense, and his eyes drop to the phone, then to me.
“Carmine, I have to go. I’ll catch up with you later.” I hang up before he can say anything. “What’s going on, Gianni? The ring?”
He shakes his head. “We have someone very unexpected at the gate and he wants to meet with you.”
I lean back, checking the calendar to see that I have to leave in a half hour to go to the city and request payment. A few businesses pay us a certain tax to make sure we protect them, or they owe us money for a loan they borrowed from us to have the business in the first place.
“Send them away. Tell them to make an appointment.”
“Yeah,” Gianni drawls with uncertainty. “You aren’t going to want to reschedule this. It’s Bianchi.”
I stop moving, curious as to why the rival mafia boss is on my property. “Is he alone?”
“No, sir.”
“Gianni, don’t call me sir. It’s weird to me.”
He smirks, a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Yes, sir.”
I groan, then stand, buttoning my three-piece Armani suit. “I guess it’s time to put my game face on, right?” This would be considered my first business meeting since Carmine handed over the throne to me. I’m not nervous, but it’s hard to set my playful personality aside. It’s why I think Matias would have been a better choice, but Carmine thinks my ability to adapt, be joyful, and be outgoing is what will make me a strong leader.
Matias doesn’t seem bothered by that fact at all. He’s happy to be my right-hand man.
“Check them for weapons. No more than him and two of his guards will be allowed in the house. You can reassure him that is all I will have too.” It’s odd giving the command to Gianni. He’s older, more experienced, but still, he doesn’t question me at all.
He gives me a curt nod and Matias stays where he is. “Do you want me to leave?” he asks, looking up at me with the same face that stares back at me in the mirror every morning and every night.
“No. You are staying here. Damn it.” I head to the window, tucking my hands in my pockets, and watch the fancy Rolls Royce pull into the circle driveway.
“What is it?”
I sigh, narrowing my eyes when the driver opens the car door for Bianchi, and he steps out. So this is the big bad Bianchi. The one I need to keep my guard up with. He kind of reminds me of Carmine.
“I shouldn’t have said the quiet word,” I admit, pointing my finger at Matias. “I’ll never admit defeat again.”
“We will see when we play Battleship again.”
“You cheat,” I accuse, feeling like I’m thirteen all over again.
In many ways, my brother and I do have childlike souls. Battleship is a game we play every other night, like clockwork, no matter what. When Carmine would take the abuse from our father, Matias and I would hide in the closet, and with a flashlight as our only source of light, we played Battleship. People eat food when they are stressed but my brother and I revert to that board game.
“I don’t cheat,” he argues.
“Gianni will be the scorekeeper next time.”
Matias rolls his eyes, but the fun banter ends when the knock on the door sounds.
I stare at my reflection in the window, watching the smile fade and the stoic expression take its place. Matias stands and I use that to stand in front of my desk. I won’t use it as protection. If this guy wants to kill me, he wouldn’t be doing it like this.
“Mr. Milazzo?” Gianni’s voice comes through the speaker. “Mr. Bianchi is here to see you.”
I gesture for Matias to stand by my side, and he does, showing the gun on his hip. “You may enter,” I state, standing so the first person Bianchi sees is me.
His bodyguards enter first and then they part, Bianchi strolling between them. He’s older than me, the white around his temples telling me so. He has dark eyes, trimmed thick brows, and high cheekbones that give him a skeletal appearance.
“They left their weapons in the car with the other two guards he brought,” Gianni informs, closing the door behind him and standing there with his arms in front of him, hands clasped, readying himself to tackle anyone who makes a move.
“Thank you, Gianni.”
“And the rest of the compound is secured and at the ready,” he follows up.
“You will not have to worry about me or my men attacking,” Bianchi states. “I am here on business, nothing more. What I need to speak with you about is urgent, Mr. Milazzo.” He holds out his hand to shake and the last thing I want is pleasantries, but enemies have to play nice in order to get what they want sometimes.
I shake his hand, then gesture with my other. “Please, sit. I’m intrigued, to say the least.” I walk around my desk and sit in the chair, leaning back. I cross my legs. He and I stare at one another, but no one will dare get the upper hand in my fucking house. “How can I help you, Bianchi? I need to leave soon.”
“I’ll try and be quick. I apologize for the last-minute meeting, but this was urgent, and it couldn’t wait.” He crosses his right ankle over his left knee, and I don’t know what it is, but something is telling me he is a very dishonest man.
This way of life, the position we are in, we don’t always go by the laws. I break them every day, but I don’t lie and I don’t fucking steal, while this guy in front of me, I bet, does a lot worse.
“Do you want something to drink?” I offer before we get into whatever brought him here.
“No, thank you. I won’t be here long enough to have it,” he states, reaching behind him and one of his guards hands him a file. Bianchi grabs it, sliding it across my desk and I flip it open.
I have no fucking idea what I’m looking at it. It’s a blurry black-and-white picture of someone running down the street.
I try not to lose my temper, but I’m not the type to ever hide my emotions well. I close the file and fold my hands together. “And what would you like for me to do with this information? I can’t identify the person in this photo if that is what you’re looking for. It’s a shit picture,” I state frankly, leaning back in my chair, and he nods in agreement.
“I know, but this person took something very valuable from me, Milazzo. A rare gem. My brother had it in his pocket and then I found him unconscious lying on the ground, the gem gone. If you help me find this person or the gem, or even better, both, I’ll pay you.”
“Pay me? I don’t need money, Bianchi. I have plenty of that.”
“An alliance. We don’t interfere in each other’s affairs and when we need help or backup, we can depend on one another.”
“Hmm,” I hum, thinking about his offer.
“I know it is unlikely for us to work together, but I wouldn’t have come to you if this wasn’t urgent. This stone is worth a lot of money, Milazzo. It’s the kind of stone that is found once in a lifetime.”
“If it is so precious, why did your brother have it in his pocket? Seems irresponsible.”
“It was, but he was transporting it to a safer place, or he was supposed to, but he stopped at Amor.”
My brows raise and I do my best not to be amused. “The strip club?”
“The Gentlemen’s Club. We own it. He made the mistake of talking about business there. Typically, it is safe. It’s usually full of people who run in the same groups as we do.”
“Mmm, seems smart,” I chastise him, not agreeing with his tactics at all. “And you don’t have decent security cameras?”
“Why would I want any evidence of what happens at my club?”
“Maybe when expensive stones go missing and all you have is a photo from a damn gas station camera.”
“Yes,” he sighs, but there’s an unhinged anger lingering behind the word. “There is always the exception. I was hoping you’d keep an ear to the ground for me. If you hear of anything, you’ll let me know? It might be wise for us to come to an agreement rather than go to war, don’t you think?”
I stand before he does, signaling that I want him to leave. He is quick to understand my movement and gets up from the chair.
“I’ll keep an ear to the ground, Bianchi. If I hear anything, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
He grins, relief in his eyes, but something else. I’ve seen it in desperate men. Desperate men are always dangerous, so while we are on good terms right now, I know not to trust Bianchi.
“Thank you, Mr. Milazzo. I hope to hear from you regarding the stone.”
“I’ll do my best, but I can’t make any promises.”
“I appreciate it, nevertheless. If you need anything—” he doesn’t finish his sentence as he leaves, his guards following behind him.
Gianni follows them to the front door, and I walk to my window again, watching them leave. I expect them to make a scene, to go back on their word, but he and his men leave quietly.
“He isn’t to be trusted,” Matias says from behind me. “What mafia boss would meet his rival? It doesn’t make sense.”
“A desperate one. He’s in trouble and that stone is the answer to everything. We’ll keep our ears to the ground, but I want to know more. Find out what you can about Bianchi. I want anything. Look under every damn rock and in every closet. I want all the skeletons. And make sure the car is ready to leave. I have to go collect,” I tell Matias as if he’s an employee and not my brother, but he gives me a quick nod and leaves.
I’m not sure when I became this person, but it is coming to me easily. Carmine did always tell me to follow my instincts and they are screaming that Bianchi is in a bad position, which means he will take anyone down to get to the top again.
“That was something.”
Gianni’s voice interrupts my thoughts.
“Can you do me a favor?”
“Anything,” he says, standing next to me as I continue to look out the window to the grounds.
“I want you and a few men to do a little surveillance on Amor. I’ll be going there this weekend. I’ll be playing nice, telling him I haven’t heard anything about the gem. Take the photo and try to get it analyzed with our software. See if we can’t match it.”
“Right away.” He snags the file from my desk, and I’m left alone in the office, feeling confident that I can finally do this.
I can prove to myself that I can do this because, in the back of my mind, behind the humor and not taking anything seriously, doubt is there.
