Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
M assimo Sartori
I didn’t know what the fuck was going on, but I was certainly going to find out.
Someone had targeted my best friend, Marco De Luca, and that required an answer, one I would stop at nothing to figure out. I didn’t understand how this could have happened without my knowledge, but someone was going to tell me why or heads were going to roll.
I curled my upper lip as I pushed myself off my desk, walked out the front door of my office and into the streets of Florence.
How could this have happened? How could someone step over my head and take out one of my best men?
My name carried a certain weight in this city and that should have meant something in this situation. Not just because of the business empire I inherited from my family, but because of the respect—and yes, fear—my name commanded. Marco had only been tangentially involved in my world, which made this whole thing even more ridiculous.
Marco had been my best friend since I was a little boy.
We’d grown up together, him in a modest apartment above his father’s tailor shop, me in a sprawling estate that included an entire village. My family had its hands in all sorts of businesses—some legitimate, some less so. As heir to my family, I could never escape its hold, but Marco had a different kind of life. He had always been straight as an arrow except when it came to me. Sure, I’d used his shop as a front, so the charges weren’t exactly bullshit, but still. I should have known something was going down hours before it actually did.
I had no idea who could be targeting him and if they knew he was connected to me, but come hell or high water, I was going to get him out.
My mind raced as I walked briskly toward the police station, trying to piece together who could possibly have it out for my best friend. It couldn’t be anyone in the police department; they’d all known Marco for years, and I knew his taxes were always in order. That left a long list of other people that I’d pissed off over the years. I had so many enemies at this point that it would have probably been easier to list who in Italy actually liked me at this point than who didn’t.
Hold on, Marco. I’ll get you out.
As I crossed the street, I felt the hair on the back of my neck prickle and a wave of unease washed over me.
Was someone watching me? I scanned the street and the sidewalk but didn’t notice anyone or anything suspicious. Still, my body remained tense. I kept going though, and the feeling gradually disappeared. I shook it off, attributing it to the shock of finding out my best friend just got arrested.
When I reached the station, I pulled open the heavy doors and stepped inside. There were several uniformed officers milling about, but I made a beeline for the front desk.
The man sitting behind it barely looked up at me. His hair was balding, and it was in a really bad combover. I could hear him chewing on a pastry. It must have been cherry filled or something because there was a smidge of it on the side of his lip that he probably didn’t even know about.
Classy.
“I need to speak with the inspector in charge of the Marco De Luca case,” I demanded. I wanted information and I wanted it now.
The man sighed heavily. “Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but—” I replied quickly.
“If you don’t have an appointment, then?—”
“I don’t need an appointment,” I growled, cutting him off.
The man finally deemed me worthy enough to lift his head and he started, his eyes opening wide when he took in the sight of me. His mouth agape, he finally remembered to wipe the side of his face, which simply smeared the cherry filling across his cheek instead of cleaning it off.
“Mr. Sartori. I’m so sorry,” he said, his tone respectful now.
“I need to see whoever is in charge of this. Right now,” I said, my voice hardening.
“Of course. One moment, please.”
The officer behind the desk scrambled to his feet, clearly understanding what my presence here meant. As he disappeared down the hallway, I took a moment to survey the bustling police station but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary aside from a drunk man stumbling in the corner. Everything else seemed normal, from the smell of stale coffee in the air to the dozens of police officers working at their desks.
I didn’t have to wait long before a tall, graying man in a suit emerged, his face a mix of reluctant curiosity and abject caution. His expression was pulled tight though, like he was slightly nervous to be standing in front of me and didn’t quite know what to say or how to approach me.
Good.
He should be afraid.
“Mr. Sartori,” he said, extending his hand. “Inspector Gianni Rizzo. Please, follow me.”
I nodded curtly and followed him down a narrow corridor to a small office. He closed the door behind us and gestured for me to sit, but I remained standing, my impatience growing by the second.
“Inspector, Marco De Luca is an honest man,” I began without preamble. “These charges against him are baseless. I need to know who’s behind this and what evidence they think they have to work with.”
Rizzo sighed and leaned back in his chair, regarding me thoughtfully. For a moment, he was quiet, like he was trying to choose his words carefully, and I stared back at him, not backing down.
“Mr. Sartori, I understand your concern. Marco De Luca has been a respected member of this community for many years. However, the investigation is ongoing. From what I understand, there is a mountain of evidence and we’re still piecing through it.”
I leaned forward, my eyes narrowing as I pressed my fingers to the surface of his desk. “And where exactly does this so-called evidence come from? Who’s feeding you this nonsense?”
He hesitated, then opened a file on his desk. “The initial report came from an anonymous tip. But the financial records we’ve reviewed suggest a pattern of discrepancies over the past several years.” The longer he went on, the more reluctant he sounded, and I gritted my teeth, quickly growing more and more annoyed.
“Anonymous tip. That’s bullshit and you know it,” I muttered, shaking my head, trying to keep my anger at bay. I was quiet a moment, clearing my throat before I began again, my voice level and calm. “What kind of discrepancies are we talking about?”
“Unreported income, falsified expenses,” he replied, flipping through the papers. “It’s a significant amount, Mr. Sartori. Enough to warrant an investigation.”
I clenched my fists, struggling to keep my temper in check. I had several officers on the payroll, but this man wasn’t one of them. I wasn’t sure if that was one of the reasons why he was in charge of Marco’s investigation in the first place, but I was going to have to tread carefully to get the information I wanted, at least until I could get proper bribes in place and my chief intelligence specialist on the case.
“Marco is a tailor, Inspector. He runs a small shop, not a multinational corporation. This smells like a setup to me and it would be wise for your people to consider that,” I explained, trying to get him to see that this was madness.
Rizzo’s gaze softened slightly.
“Believe me, Mr. Sartori, if there’s any foul play involved, we will uncover it. But for now, Marco will remain in custody until we can sort this out,” he replied.
I took a deep breath, trying to quell the anger boiling inside me. I could yell and scream at him, but that wouldn’t get me anywhere. I needed to bide my time and get the whole story before I rushed to action, at least for now. I needed to know who was behind this before I made any sort of big moves.
“Very well, Inspector. But know this—I will not rest until Marco is cleared. And if I find out who’s behind this, they’ll regret ever targeting him,” I warned.
“Understood, Mr. Sartori. Do what you need to do,” the officer said curtly.
“Before I leave though, I need to speak with Marco. I won’t step foot out of this station until I do.”
Rizzo nodded, seeming to understand that my demands were not to be ignored. I could tell that he knew of my reputation, and although I was asking something a bit out of the ordinary, he was trying to figure out what was the right path. He cleared his throat.
“Follow me,” he said, leading me through another set of corridors until we reached a small, dimly lit room. Inside, Marco sat at a plain metal table, his hands cuffed in front of him. He looked tired and miserable, and to be honest, I didn’t blame him. I’d feel the same way if I were him.
“Five minutes,” Rizzo said before stepping outside, closing the door behind him.
Marco looked up, his eyes weary but filled with a glimmer of hope.
“Massimo,” he said, his voice strained.
“Marco,” I replied, taking a seat across from him. “I’m going to get you out of this. But for now, you need to hang tight. I will have men on you the whole time. They will protect you and make sure you’re safe.”
Marco nodded, his expression one of gratitude mixed with concern. “Thank you, Massimo. Did you talk to Sofia? I don’t want her caught up in this mess.”
“I did. I sent her home for the time being, but I’ll make sure she’s safe. You can trust me,” I replied, and he cocked his head, meeting my gaze directly.
He was one of the few men that ever dared to do that, and I respected him all the more for it.
Marco leaned forward, his voice low and urgent. “Listen, I need you to look out for her, really look out for her. I’m not asking you as a don, or a kingpin, but as my best friend. Make sure none of this touches her. Keep her safe.”
“You have my word, Marco. I’ll do everything I can to protect her,” I vowed.
“I trust you, Massimo,” he replied, nodding curtly.
I clasped his shoulder. “We’ll get through this, Marco. I promise. Stay strong. Keep an eye out for my men. You’ll recognize a few of them. Stick with them and you’ll stay safe too.”
“I will,” he smiled softly, and someone knocked on the door, signaling that my five minutes were up. With a sigh, I stood up, meeting Marco’s anxious gaze.
“I’ll figure out what’s going on. I don’t know if someone is targeting me through you, or whatever the fuck this is, but I’m going to find out,” I said quietly, and he nodded.
“I know you will,” Marco responded.
As I exited the room, my mind was already racing with what I needed to do next. First things first, I needed to uncover who was behind this setup, because that’s what this probably was, and quickly. But right now, I needed to speak with Enzo Santini, an old contact of mine who specialized in finding information. He was good at his job, and it didn’t matter what kind of firewall or edge of the dark web he had to crawl to; he always came through with what I needed when I needed it.
Stepping out into the bright sunlight, I dialed his number. I’d worked with him a good many times through the years and I’d considered putting him on the payroll permanently, but he was a solo kind of guy. He liked being his own boss, although I think I just hadn’t offered him enough money yet.
Everyone had a price. You just had to be good at finding it and I excelled at that. I’d get him eventually.
“It’s Massimo,” I said as soon as he picked up. “I need you to dig into everything you can find on Marco De Luca’s case. Anonymous tips, financial records, anything that looks out of place. And I need it yesterday. I’ll pay double for you to put aside whatever you’re working on, and I’ll even throw in a case of Monster.”
“You know me well, Massimo. Consider it done,” the investigator replied without hesitation. “I’ll get back to you as soon as I have something.”
“Good. I’ll be looking forward to your call,” I said, and I hung up the phone as I strode down the streets toward my best friend’s place where Sofia De Luca should be waiting for me.
My cock hardened at the thought, even though it shouldn’t.
I needed to figure out what to do with her next.