Vittorio
Early the next morning, Vittorio was leaving the penthouse when his cell phone began to ring. He was surprised to see Marcello’s name. His best friend usually wasn’t awake before noon. He accepted the call. “What’s up?”
“We need to talk. Can we meet?” Marcello sounded strained.
“Sure,” Vittorio agreed automatically. “The diner work for you?”
“Yeah,” Marcello said flatly. “I’ll be there in… fifteen minutes.”
“See you there.” Vittorio hung up and frowned. He’d woken up in such a good mood. He hated that his work could ruin his days so quickly. He jogged down the stairs to his landing of cars and clicked the fob until the headlights on his Mercedes flashed. He got behind the wheel and started up the swanky car, too distracted to fully enjoy the sweet purr of the foreign engine.
Once out on the road, Vittorio navigated towards “Mama Edna’s,” a Contarini-owned, family-style diner that his father had named after his grandmother. He wondered what Marcello had to share with him and why it needed to be in person. In Vittorio’s business, good news almost never came in person.
Vittorio found a parking spot about a block down from Edna’s and walked the rest of the way with his hands in his pockets. The small diner was packed with the usual morning breakfast crowd. The scent of hot syrup and bacon filled the air. The hostess was one of Vittorio’s young cousins and she waved when she spotted him.
“Got anywhere for a guy to sit?” he asked as she approached him.
“Maybe not any guy, but I’m sure I can find a seat for the boss,” she joked.
Vittorio smiled and followed her further into the restaurant. His cousin found him a freshly vacated booth, the tabletop covered in balled up napkins, mostly-empty plates and puddles of syrup. In next to no time, she had the table cleared and wiped down for him.
“There you go. Good as new,” she beamed.
“Thanks,” Vittorio grinned at her as she rushed back to work. He folded his giant frame into the tiny booth, cursing under his breath as his knees bumped against the underside of the table.
Right on time, Marcello hurried in the front door and snuck through the crowd. He slid into the booth across from Vittorio and ordered a coffee from the eager waitress that approached him. Once she was gone, he looked up at Vittorio.
“What’s going on?” Vittorio demanded.
“It’s Anafesto,” Marcello admitted, keeping his voice low. “I guess he’s not exactly pleased with you. He’s saying you snubbed him at the auction.”
“What?” Vittorio asked incredulously. His lip curled in a sneer. “Crazy old bastard.”
“Well, it’s not just that,” Marcello leered. The waitress returned with his coffee and he thanked her, then winced at the first cheap, bitter sip. “He’s not happy that he lost… the girl… to you.”
“Too damn bad,” Vittorio spat. “Guess he should’ve brought a little more spending money then.”
Marcello shrugged. “You know I don’t have a horse in this race. She seems like a sweet girl, don’t get me wrong. But is any broad really worth the drama Anafesto might start stirring up?”
Vittorio’s fierce gaze darkened. A sudden sense of possessiveness overtook him. “What are you saying exactly?” he growled.
“Nothing, man.” Marcello held up his hands. “You do you.”
Vittorio kept up his glare.
“Look,” Marcello explained. “I just don’t want to, you know, see… stuff happen again.”
Vittorio fought to maintain his steady exterior while his friend’s words struck him like a fist to the gut. Marcello was right, though. He wasn’t ready to risk losing anyone he cared about to the Anafesto regime, especially not Sharon. That sweet little virgin surprised him every day.
Vittorio mulled over his options for a moment before he spoke.
“I think,” he finally said, “I’m gonna go visit the house upstate for a few days.”
Marcello nodded. “Probably a good idea.”
“Can you handle things down here?” Vittorio asked.
“Of course,” Marcello nodded.
“Thanks,” Vittorio nodded at him. “Anything else?”
“Nothing of note,” Marcello said. “Like I said, I’ll handle it.”
“You’re a good man,” Vittorio said, standing and shaking his friend’s hand.
Marcello acknowledged the praise with a humble nod and took another sip of his coffee.