Chapter 46 Enzo
ENZO
I take a deep drag of my cigarette as I attempt to look bored, all the while counting the cards to make sure I win yet another round.
Nothing like a cheater to get the big boss to show his face.
Groans permeate the air when I put down my cards—a royal flush. I pull the chips toward me, trying to ignore the woman at my side. After all, she's playing a role and so am I.
The next set of cards is dealt, and I continue chain-smoking and counting the cards. It won't be long until management realizes there is something wrong with me—and my rather fortuitous hand.
It's been almost two years since Allegra's accident, and my plans have slowly started to materialize. I'd made comprehensive calculations to hit where it hurts the most—starting with Rocco.
Now, the best way to topple an empire is to take away its resources.
In my father's case, his profitable businesses—drugs and human trafficking.
His many clubs in Manhattan cater to the worst vices and the most corrupt elites.
What would he say when his stream of customers decreases, his influx of prostitutes stops, and his profit takes a dent?
After all, nothing can put you on your toes like old-fashioned competition.
But most of all, what will he say when he realizes his empire is no longer his?
To say it's been tough to get here is an understatement. I feel like I'm dying inside the more I see my Allegra languishing there in a state of being but not being. She's on life support, and knowing that anyone could walk in and pull the plug has me perpetually restless.
I visit her weekly, but it's not enough. It's never enough. I want her by my side and in my bed. I want to worship her body and make love to her like never before.
I want to show her my love.
I'd never jerked off to a woman's picture before her.
But sometimes the longing becomes too much, and I find myself coming with her name on my lips, reliving the many times I'd fucked her hard and fast but also the other times, during her pregnancy, when we'd gone so agonizingly slow, exploring each other's bodies and connecting on a soul level.
"And I win," I smirk, "again." I pull the chips toward me, noting some people watching me closely from the sidelines.
Sure enough, one of them comes to me, speaking low in my ear that his boss wants to see me. I shrug, and seemingly very compliant, I follow him to the back.
He opens a door for me to step in, before closing it in his wake.
It seems I'm being regaled with a private audience.
The room is dark, a low lamp on the desk in the back allowing just enough light to see the silhouette of a man. Smoke is coming from what I assume is a cigar, and glinting eyes watch me attentively.
"You've been trying to get my attention for a while, Agosti," he rumbles, his voice a deep, rough growl from decades of smoking.
"I'd say it worked," I joke.
It's imperative to keep my playful mask on, even though I suspect the man in front of me might know the truth.
"Take a seat," he motions in front of him, and I oblige.
He wasn't an easy man to find, and this wasn't my first attempt. But it would be worth it in the end—even if I'm selling my soul to the devil.
"I'm surprised you took the bait this time," I say, inclining my head and lighting a cigarette of my own.
"I felt sorry for you, boy. You've been to.
.. what? Ten of my casinos in the last year?
And you're always counting cards... tsk, tsk.
I thought you would have learned your lesson after the shootout or the beatings, but here you are—again.
" His tone is filled with amusement, so I know that even though we're technically enemies, he might admire my perseverance.
"You know," he continues, leaning back in the shadows, "initially I thought this was about your sister. But it's not, is it?"
"No. It's not," I reply, even though it takes everything in me to put that tidbit of information out of my mind. It had been even harder to put my thirst for revenge aside so I could bargain with him. But I find that for Allegra, there's nothing I wouldn't do.
Even join hands with the person who had my sister killed.
He's the only one with the interests and resources to help me achieve what I want—total annihilation of the Agosti empire.
"Of course," he smiles, "you wouldn't be sitting so calmly across from me then. But I figured this out before I invited you in. You see, you fascinate me, Mr. Agosti."
"Do I?"
"There's something about you that doesn't fit the mold.
I must say, I'm rarely surprised by people.
But you've managed to do just that," he rises from his seat, his back to me as he stares out the window into the night.
"Is your wife worth all this?" he asks, and I'm momentarily stunned.
But then I realize who I'm talking to—one of the most elusive drug lords in America. Of course he'd have ears everywhere.
"She is. She is my heart," I reply, unashamed of what Allegra means to me.
"I envy you. Maybe if my heart had been alive I wouldn't be here either…" he trails off. Taking a deep breath, he turns to me, stepping from the shadows so I get my first glimpse of him.
He's a handsome man, even in his fifties, with a strong physique and shrewd eyes that seem to see through everything.
"Let's talk business, shall we?" His open invitation is all I needed to put my offer on the table.
"I'll go straight to the point. I'll give you New York as long as you help me take down Rocco and the Marchesi. I want them to never see it coming—to hit where it hurts."
Once I'd found out the circumstances of Romina's death, I'd been able to piece together why she'd had to die. And the list of suspects had narrowed significantly.
But there's only one person powerful enough to dare something like that, and desperate enough to attempt it—Arturo Jimenez.
He'd correctly assumed that Romina's death would drive a wedge between Agosti and Lastra, and further leave the five families in shambles, going at each other's throats and not noticing a smaller presence slowly entrenching itself in their territories.
Jimenez had long wanted to move his business to New York, and I'll just make his dream come true.
"That's a rather generous offer," he raises an eyebrow, doubt clear in his gaze.
"I don't care about the famiglia as long as I get my revenge," I add.
"Hmm," he narrows his eyes at me. "The made men I've encountered in my time would rather die a painful death than betray the famiglia. Why should I trust you? This could very well be a trap."
"I'm not seeking any retribution for Romina's death. I think that should be proof enough."
He regards me silently for a moment.
"Then I'll take you on your offer, kiddo. But know that the moment I feel that you might be playing me…" he lights a match, holding the fire in front of his face before lighting his cigar again, "it won't be you I'm going after," he lets the threat hang. It won't be me; it will be Allegra.
"I'd never play with her life," I assure him, and we start discussing business.
"We'll have to do a seamless transition so your father doesn't realize what's happening under his nose," Jimenez comments, and we soon hashed out a plan.
Everything would be under the guise of a partnership with the Boston Irish mob.
Jimenez has a big stake in their underground fighting rings and is very close with the Gallagher family.
Given the ongoing conflict with Lastra, we'd be looking elsewhere for resources, at which point the Gallaghers would step in.
They'd offer their services in exchange for using some of our locations as fighting arenas—thus bringing the underground rings to New York and setting up the groundwork for Jimenez's transition.
When my father least expects it, he'd be hit by betrayal from all sides, and all of his businesses would shift ownership to Jimenez.
He would be helpless as he'd watch his life's work go to waste.
I can only imagine his expression when he realizes that it was his beloved son who put everything in motion and played him for so long.
"Get Martin Ashby to invest. He's a greedy fool, and if the offer is appealing, he will be the first to dive in. Besides, he's on my naughty list," Jimenez chuckles and proceeds to tell me his tumultuous past with Martin, as well as the reasons he wants him dead—just not yet.
"His time will come, obviously. But like you, I take my time with revenge."
The most interesting bit of information has to be the identity of Theodore Hastings, the NYPD Chief Commissioner, and Jimenez's features morph immediately as he talks about him, his expression filled with pride.
"He's my heir, but he's too set in his righteous ways. I need to give him a little push so he can take his rightful place when the time comes."
"So you want me to blackmail him," I say, ashing my cigarette as I try to understand Jimenez's endgame.
"Yes, there's plenty on him. His previous identity as Adrian Barnett, for one, or the real identity of his wife," Jimenez slides a folder toward me.
"His wife?" I raise an eyebrow, opening the file to peruse its contents. It has detailed information on Bianca Ashby, also known as Artemis. "This is too rich," I laugh at the irony. "And he doesn't know he lives with an assassin?"
Jimenez shakes his head, a smile playing at his lips.
"I don't think my son would suspect if you were to throw it in his face. That's how enamored he is of her. But because of that, it's all the incentive he'll need to come to the dark side."
"I see," I reply.
The Gallaghers would insinuate themselves into the Agosti business until they could steal it from under Rocco's nose. Then Jimenez would swoop in and take over the empire, and Father would see his life's work destroyed. He'll either die from a coronary, or I'll do the honors.
"Now for the Marchesi," I start, and we plan a couple more years in advance.
Funny how now I have all the time in the world.