Chapter 1
Enzo
“You know the rules,” I said. “You made an agreement. And in my world, your word is your bond, Mr. Stephens.”
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Look, we hit a bit of a snag and I had to dish out a lot of money to get it fixed. I-I-I… I can get you half of it now. All cash, all cleaned, ready to go,” he said.
“I didn’t come here for half, Mr. Stephens. I came here for all of it,” I said.
“I promise you, it’s all clean. And I can have the rest of it to you in a couple of weeks, I swear. We’ve got this massive score we’re preparing for, and all I have to do is deliver on my end of the bargain. I get the money, I clean it up, I prepare it for you, and we’re all done.”
“You seem to have this backwards,” I said. “You don’t make the rules. You follow them.”
“Please,” he said. “It’s all I’ve got. I swear on my mother’s grave-”
“How disrespectful of the woman who brought you into this world. I’m not sure my father would be impressed knowing he was doing business with someone who was so… disrespectful of women.”
I cocked my gun and held it out to the guy’s head. I had no intentions of killing the man today, but he needed to be scared. He stopped making his payments two months ago and my father was getting nervous. And when my father got nervous, bodies started washing up on the shoreline. I was the mediator. The one who brought the peace between those who begged and the man who brought wrath down upon their heads.
Sort of like the chosen one.
“Please don’t kill me. I have a family,” Mr. Stephens said.
“I’m not going to kill you today,” I said as I set down my gun. “But some lessons do need to be learned the hard way.”
“Please… don’t…”
I holstered my gun and unbuttoned my cuffs. Getting my hands dirty was part of the job. Sometimes guys caved to the barrel of my gun, but for some reason I didn’t believe this guy had received the message yet. I slowly walked over to him and balled up my fist, then cracked it down against his jaw.
Two black eyes and a dislocated jaw later, I was trying to piece myself back together. My father hated it when I came back from a job disheveled. The Gambani men had pride when it came to their appearance. Clean shaven, styled hair, tailored suits. The way we presented ourselves to the public was a direct reflection on how well we could conceal what we did. My father always said that if I walked around looking like a thug, people would assume I was a thug.
And that stuck with me all my life.
“You will have Mr. Conti’s money by next week. He doesn’t take half payments, so I suggest you keep saving up. If I have to come back to see you, Mr. Stephens, I can promise you I will not be as nice.”
The man groaned as my hired muscle dumped him from the chair, and I watched him sputter blood onto the ground.
“Clean up this mess,” I said. “Then meet me back at my father’s office. There’s still work to be done.”
My father was Luca Gambani. On the outside, he was the head of waste management services. On the inside, he was head of the sanitation crew. Whatever people needed cleaned up, we took care of. My father was paid exorbitantly high prices to keep things discreet, quiet, and under the table, and that is what we sought out to do. Our partnership with the Conti crime family was not only lucrative, it put us in a position of power with many important people.
And my father greatly enjoyed the favors that came with the job.
But we didn’t simply provide sanitation services for the city. If necessary, we were also hired guns. Muscle. Whatever the mafia needed in terms of protection and aftercare, we took it upon ourselves to do the greatest job possible. Our families flourished alongside the other so long as loyalty was our number one priority. And I made sure it was with me.
Because I wanted to position myself to take a higher role in the family business.
I walked out of the dingy old apartment as I threw my suit jacket over my shoulders. My father was waiting for me and I had no more time to spare. I buttoned my coat as I got out to the car, then stepped in and told the driver to take me to my father’s office. A field report would be necessary, but I also wanted to have a conversation with him.
A conversation that could change the trajectory of my life forever.
“Son.”
“Father.”
“Any money to be had?” my father asked.
“In a week,” I said. “And yes, I delivered the message accordingly.”
“Where are the guards I sent with you?” he asked.
“Cleaning up the mess I made. Blood on a gray suit doesn’t match as well as one might think.”
“I knew there was a reason I sent my two best guys with you,” he said. “Now, spit it out.”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re my son, Enzo. I know when you wanna talk. What’s on your mind?”
“Straight to the point?” I asked.
“Always.”
“I want more responsibility.”
My father raised his eyes up from his desk as I clasped my hands in front of me.
“Itching for a higher role?” he asked.
“Eventually. But for now, more responsibility would show my dedication to the… cause,” I said.
“And you’re serious about this.”
“Yes. I know my rightful place and I wish to take it one day.”
The smile that crossed my father’s face was one of pride, but I couldn’t let myself get wrapped up in it. Whatever was coming, I knew it was going to be hard. Living the life, we did always required sacrifice, and the way my father was looking at me made me uneasy.
“Taking on more responsibility sometimes means… slowing down,” my father said.
“If it chains me to a desk, I’ll do it,” I said.
“What if it chains you to a woman?”
I felt my blood freeze in my veins.
“Rumor has it that Conti’s looking for someone to marry his daughter. I’ve been having some interesting conversations with Mr. Conti. He’s been very pleased with your work.”
“It’s nice to know our highest-paying customer is satisfied,” I said.
“If you want to take on more responsibility, then there is something you can do. Marrying the Conti girl would secure our family ties to the Conti fortune. Having a family member on the inside and heir apparent to their fortune would make our lives… much easier,” my father said.
“You want me to get married,” I said.
“Yes. I can arrange it with Mr. Conti for the two of you to meet and get to know one another better, then the wedding arrangements can take place.”
I gritted my teeth as my father reclined back in his chair.
“You asked for more responsibility, so there it is. Your mother and I were married in much the same way.”
“Don’t the two of you sleep in separate bedrooms?” I asked.
“Because she snores like a war horse. I didn’t love her at the altar, but I came to love her. She bore me children I loved, and a strong son who is intent on taking my place some day. A father couldn’t be prouder of something like that. Your mother brought you into this world and she is growing tired of all this. Of the hours I keep and the times I come home with blood on my hands she has to wash off.”
“Are you really using my love for my mother to convince me to marry some woman I don’t know?” I asked.
“Marrying this girl would open doors for all of us. Mr. Conti trusts us, and he has taking a liking to you. We’re in prime position to move several rungs up the ladder in one fell swoop. You want more responsibility? You want to prove yourself? Take her as your wife. Secure the fortune to both of our sides. Give your mother the rest she deserves. Then, we’ll talk.”
I stood there in front of my father as he eyed me dangerously. I was standing on the cusp of something great. But marriage? Did it really require that? I lived for my weekends. Those nights where women choked on the pleasure I could bring them. V.I.P. slots in clubs with women’s tits in my face. There would be none of that if I was married. I’d be expected to tend to her and only her. One slice of pie for the rest of my life.
But this was for family. And nothing was more important than family.
“Fine,” I said. “Prepare the arrangements.”
“I’ll pass the message along,” my father said with a grin.
I walked out of his office and headed straight for my car. If I was going to do this, then I was taking one last weekend to myself. One last blowout with a soft piece of ass underneath my fingertips before it all got shot to hell. One last party before I married some woman whose only claim to life was the fact that she was the daughter of one of the most feared mafia bosses in history.
I got into my car and cranked it up, resolving myself to one last drink.
One last club.
One last woman to destroy before I chained myself to my destiny.