Bound to the Mafia King (Dark Mafia Tales)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Valerio

D eath. She was a cruel and vicious mistress, who took no prisoners when she made a house call. For some, she came a little too soon; others came to beg for her call. But there was a third group, one I belonged to. We dodged her call every single time. I had cheated death more times than I could count.

I had stared down the barrel of a gun more than I had entered a woman’s pussy. And seeing as I had an ongoing rotation of women I used for my entertainment, that was quite the comparison.

Death had my number, and she called me often. But every time I faced her, I managed to cheat my way out of the inevitable. Every. Single. Time .

I knew that one day she would come for me. But for now, I would keep evading her.

Some would have called it luck; that I had the favor of the heavens on my side. It was comical to think about, really, because I knew that the heavens worked more against me than the other way around. I had too much blood on my hands to be an angel’s favorite. And yet I still breathed freely, and my heart still beat. Was that due to luck being on my side, or did that have more to do with the fact that I was immortal? Many had joked that I had an infinite number of lives.

“Sir, all the arms are accounted for.” The guard stood in front of me with his clipboard. "We have them all boxed and ready."

“Good. We will have these moved in the meat container to New York tomorrow morning. Make sure that transport goes off without a hitch.” I clicked my fingers in my fist to release the pent-up tension. “Good job. Lock up and make sure everything is secured.”

I had been sent out to Michigan to finalize a firearms deal with the Colombians three days ago. This was a job that a lesser-ranked member could have done, but, for some reason, Big Brother wanted me out of the city.

I knew what he was doing. I knew what both he and Savina were doing. They thought New York was a toxic place for me due to all that had happened. It was ironic to think that the city we self-imposed ourselves on was toxic when we were the ones spilling the blood on the streets. We were the ones littering the pavements with drugs and contraband. How could a place I polluted be toxic for me?

I was fine. Had my father’s betrayal sucked? Yes. But it had been two years going on three, and I could not dwell on what was dead and gone. I had dealt with the grief in my own way and managed to pave the way for myself.

As soon as I walked out of the large barn, the rain came from virtually nowhere. When I walked in an hour ago, it was nothing but a midnight sky and a blue moon. But I guess that’s what happened in the Midwest and why no one wanted to fucking live here.

I walked to my McLaren and got inside. Truthfully, I should have been driving a more inconspicuous car, but I could give two fucks about that. I was part of the mafia, and I didn’t give a shit who knew me and who didn’t. I wasn’t here for long anyway.

I could not understand why Andres even wanted to have the exchange in a small town like Wiggleberry. Yep, that was the name of the little shit town he had me in. It was small, conservative, and highly religious. I was shocked I didn’t melt the minute I crossed the city lines.

I settled into my seat and breathed in the scent of the expensive leather.

Where could one get a stiff drink in these parts? I was almost certain that the only alcohol these people knew was Apple cider.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

“Like fucking candy, man.” I swiped the screen and answered the call. “Yes, brother.”

“Don’t sound so excited to hear from me, little brother,” he said sarcastically. “I would think that you miss being so far away from me. After all, we are usually rarely apart.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to contain my already short fuse. If this was one of his many ‘checking in on you’ calls, I was going to lose it. I was tired of him babysitting me and acting like I was a ticking bomb.

“What do you want, Andres?”

“I just wanted to check and make sure that you’re doing alright.”

“Bloody hell, can you stop trying to be my keeper? I’m not going to self-combust, I’m fine.” It was no secret that I had taken my father’s betrayal the hardest. To say I had spiraled was an understatement. I had damn well nearly started a war when I found myself in Chicago one night. “I’m not on drugs, I’m not fucking whores, I am on the straight and narrow, just like you wanted me to.”

None of that was true. I was taking drugs, but more respectably, and I wasn’t indulging in the whores that belonged to other mafias. I had learned my lesson once, and that had been enough for me.

“You know it’s only because I care for you, Rio.”

“Marriage and fatherhood have made you soft.” If you had told me five years ago that my brother would be what he is today, I would have laughed in your face. He had been much like my father, who didn’t believe in frivolous emotions such as love.

I could practically hear him rolling his eyes. “You trying to insult me won’t work, brother. I can read you very easily, and trying to shy away from the topic at hand won’t work. I know you aren’t on the straight and narrow. We may distribute the drugs, Rio, but we never use them. You know what that shit can do, you know what it did to our mother.”

At the mention of our mother, lightning ripped through the sky and sliced through the air with violent strength.

“I’m not taking anything,” I quipped. “It offends me that you think that I would even try to take anything.”

The coke that I had brought burned a hole in my pocket as I lied to my brother. The only person I felt like I could trust in this world. He also happened to be the only family that I had left on this God-forsaken land.

“I’m only checking.” I heard some ruffling in the background before I heard the tiny little laughs of my nephew and niece on the other side. He whispered something to them that I couldn’t quite make out. “Valerio, I need to go, it’s bedtime for the kids. But our conversation is not over. Not by a long shot.”

I sighed dramatically, but internally I was thanking the heavens for sparing me. “I will see you when I’m home. The jet is due for take-off tomorrow morning. Give Miguel my love and tell Sav I said hi.”

“I will.” And then he hung up.

My brother had created this little life for himself where he could find peace. I envied that, and I envied the fact that he was able to escape from the harshness of our world. I, on the other hand, stayed rooted in the chaos.

Much like the storm that raged outside the car, my life had been the same for the past year. Most storms had an eye where, for just a moment, you were allowed reprieve. You were given some time to catch your breath and to try and find your bearings. But not for me. I never got the chance; my world was flooded and had been wading through monstrous waves.

The coke in my pocket burned my trousers as my mind screamed for solace. That was what the drugs gave me. They offered me a momentary peace where I didn’t need to think, feel, or do. I could simply just be.

I started the car and pulled away from the warehouse, my mind completely engulfed in the frenzy of thoughts and emotions that bubbled up every once in a while.

I pushed the car harder as the rain pelted down heavily. The thunder roared, shaking the window of my McLaren as I moved down the dark road. My heart clenched as images of past experiences with my father resurfaced in my mind.

He had embedded this code and told me of honor, dignity, and respect. Only for him to turn around and stab us all in the back. I didn’t lack anything in my life growing up. Whatever I wanted was brought to me by the snap of a finger. But the fundamental thing every child needed was love from their parent. And I guess that was what I chased as an adult. It was what I sought after when it came to my father. I wanted him to fill the vacant hole that had been left by the scars of my childhood.

My father thought love was a weakness, and my mother, well, she loved us in her way. But I guess at a point in time it all just got too much for her. The abuse from my father and the callousness from the life she had been plunged into. There were many times I had blamed her and been angry with her for leaving. But it wasn’t until I truly lived and became an adult that I saw what this world did to the soft women in it.

I pressed the gas even harder and pushed the car as hard as I could. It felt like I was trying to run from something, but the problem wasn’t in the physical world. It was in my mind. I was battling with my own demons, and I didn’t know how to slay them.

It had been almost 2 years, and I had been trying to reconcile what had happened.

I pressed the pedal down even harder. The car zoomed through the air. My ears popped from the pressure and my heart increased in speed as my eyes glared at the dark road ahead. The blood in my veins gushed past my chest, filtering the adrenaline throughout my entire system.

You are my son…

You are my legacy…

It’s okay, it won’t hurt…

This is a service to the brotherhood…

My father’s voice echoed in my mind loudly as it bounced off the walls of my skull. With each passing second the air grew heavier in my lungs, the voice only getting louder and louder, until…

The steering wheel jerked left and then right as the car aquaplaned and veered off the road. Everything happened so quickly it may as well have been in the blink of an eye.

The McLaren went airborne for a few seconds, heading right for a fence pole by the side. I closed my eyes, already expecting the worst, which inevitably came only a few seconds later.

My body jerked forward, but the seatbelt pulled me back into my seat. My head bobbed against the side of the car just before shards of glass erupted from the windscreen and sputtered all over. The rest was all but a blur.

The last thing I remembered was making eye contact with the most gorgeous pair of green eyes that I had ever seen. The world fell away, and all my mind could focus on was her sweet voice that carried into my ears.

“You’re going to be okay. I will make sure of it.”

My eyes shifted lower to her neck, where I saw an intricate little pendant that hung from her neck. It was in the shape of what seemed to be a heart with a small diamond in the center.

“You’re going to be okay,” she said again. Her voice was like sweet honey to my ears. Was she an angel? Had she come to take me to the afterlife? “Stay alive for me, please.”

And then it all went black.