26. Rafael
26
RAFAEL
All eyes are on me as I’m escorted into the warehouse.
Sergio and his men look like they’ve seen a ghost. Milos looks on the verge of passing out. Il Diavolo and his crew of men do what I need them to do—play their role and go along with the plan being executed.
So far, it’s all gone like I had planned.
I’ve even confirmed with Gavino that Portia is in the building. She’s being closely watched from her hiding spot, just in case things go left and we’ll need to get her the fuck out.
It’s all a delicate balance to strike.
At any moment, one of these game pieces might make a move that ruins everything. Sergio could decide he’s done with verbal sparring and open fire on the whole warehouse. We’d immediately retaliate, and the next thing we know, it’ll be a full-on bloodbath.
Milos might do or say the wrong thing, forcing Il Diavolo’s hand.
Portia could reveal herself… which would probably almost be enough to make my heart stop. I need her to stay hidden; I need her to play spectator so she sees what I have planned.
With her own two eyes and ears, she’ll realize Il Diavolo and I are not the same person. She’ll realize I have no mafia affiliations and she’s been sorely mistaken.
Then she can drop her suspicions and open herself up to being mine again.
All while I also throw Titus, Sergio, and the rest of the Tucos off my trail. Once they’re convinced Rafael Calderone has nothing to do with Diavolo and the Belluccis, they’ll back off. I can fight them from behind my mask while also putting an end to the hits they’ve carried out against my everyday-businessman alter ego.
I play it cool, like Rafael Calderone is known for being. Even in the most high-pressure business negotiations, even when I was a man with barely two cents to rub together, I’ve always kept calm and collected when facing off against other men.
An easy smirk spreads onto my face as I peer around at the room. I’ve got at least two guns pointed right at me. Sergio and his guys look sorely tempted to add to that number.
Il Diavolo regards me from his throne, Maurizio doing a phenomenal job cosplaying me. He comes across cold and composed from behind the devil’s mask. I made a good choice selecting him over Adagio; he would’ve been more theatrical with it. Also, his golden brown hair would’ve been a dead giveaway.
“Good evening, gentlemen. You said you had some business you wanted to discuss?”
Sergio glances from me to the throne, then back again. “What the hell’s he doing here? What is this?”
Il Diavolo lets both statements hover in the tense air, still measured and nonplussed. Then, in a tone that’s deeper and emphasizes his Italian accent more than usual, he finally speaks.
“Mr. Calderone is here because I asked him to be here. It’s time to finally address the way things will be from this point on,” he explains calmly. “Your family has defied us one too many times.”
“Defied you?” Sergio responds, his wide mouth dropping open for a harsh laugh. “That’s rich! You’re the ones who’ve stolen our product! You’ve taken over some of our territory! You think you get to rule Newport like some overlord?”
“Our new product has been released. You will find something new to sell, and it will be outside our territory,” Il Diavolo says plainly. “You foolishly believed you could use some of our business partners and take over our market. That will be ending once and for all tonight.”
“This is a setup! You fucking set me up.”
Sergio’s no longer talking to Il Diavolo. He’s rounded on Milos, giving him a hard shove to the ground. He curls a fist and hovers over him like he’s tempted to start beating him up.
Milos holds up his arms to block these potential hits, quaking on the spot. He’s as pathetic and cowardly as he’d been weeks ago when we visited him in the club office at U4EA.
“You knew he would be expecting us!” Sergio roars, gesturing to Il Diavolo and his men. “You brought me here on purpose!”
“I… I didn’t know… I… I swear…” Milos stammers.
Poor guy.
He’s telling the truth.
But I couldn’t trust Milos enough to tell him what was happening and why. He’s double crossed me before, even entertaining the idea of partnering with the Tucos. He had to remain in the dark as he brought Sergio and his crew here.
“W-when they gave me a… a tour the other d-day… it… it was a full ware-warehouse,” he continues, tripping over every word. “I didn’t know… he’d… that he’d be ex-expecting us…”
“LIAR!”
“ENOUGH!” Il Diavolo roars over Sergio. “You were not called here today to air your personal grievances. I am uninterested in your melodrama. Our product is out on the streets as of tonight. You will inform Titus he must find new real estate and a new product to sell or there will be consequences.”
“If you think we’ll back down, you’ve got another thing coming!”
I decide to throw my hat in the ring, since we haven’t addressed the other elephant in the room. Still with my easy smirk on my face, I raise my brows and interject.
“Gentlemen, I apologize if I may seem a little impatient, but I’m a busy man with a very hectic schedule. You brought me here to discuss business. I’m afraid if that’s not the case, then I’ll show myself out?—”
“Stay where you are!” commands Il Diavolo, and the two guards flanking me lift their guns to emphasize his order.
If I move one muscle, they’ll shoot.
…or that’s the idea we want to give Sergio, his men, and a lurking Portia.
“You have been brought here today because it’s time you cut ties with the Tuco organization,” says Il Diavolo, returning to his calmer volume.
But it’s his words that have caused a stir. Sergio whips his head in my direction, his big eyes bugging out and his equally big mouth agape. He’s never looked more like a fish, like a trout to be exact.
His lips naturally hang downward so that when his jaw’s dropped open, he resembles a fish caught on a hook.
He eyeballs me like he’s never seen me before. As if he’s just learned a man walked on the moon.
“Him?” he croaks finally. “He’s not my business partner!”
I remain amused, hands in my pockets. “Mr. Sacrimoni, have you ever considered you’re not aware of all the business dealings of Titus Tuco? We have shares in some of the same companies and properties. But I am in business with many around the city. It is how I’ve gotten where I am today, after all.”
Sergio looks like his mind is blown. He takes long, slow blinks and his once curled fist hovers near his pocket like he wants to call his boss and confirm.
But it’s true. I have, technically , been in business with the Tucos.
Rafael Calderone makes many investments. He has many business partners and stakes in several games. That includes some of my rivals.
A necessary evil for a man like me.
Not only does it give me some leverage over them in the right scenarios, it allows me to distance Rafael and Il Diavolo. It gives me a reasonable track record showing no set loyalty or allegiance.
It also provides me a means to sabotage if I so want to.
“You have been playing both sides,” accuses Il Diavolo. “You have invested in properties like U4EA, which belongs to the Bellucci territory… but you have done the same to several that belong to the Tucos.”
“With all due respect, Il Diavolo, that’s called good business. Your mafia war has little to do with me and my business dealings. I am not la cosa nostra . I do not, and have never, affiliated myself with you or anyone outside of official business.”
“I will no longer stand for playing both sides. No matter what you consider to be good business.”
“I’m done listening to this!” shouts Sergio, losing any last restraint. He draws his gun, which is only a Glock 19, and points it around the room.
It becomes an immediate race to draw weapons first. Sergio’s men follow their capo’s lead while Il Diavolo’s crew merely raise the machine guns they’re already clutching up higher. Even the two who have been guarding me redirect their guns toward Sergio and his guys.
Suddenly, we’re in a Mexican standoff.
I take half a step back, feigning surprise that it’s come to this.
Rafael Calderone may be a cutthroat businessman, but he isn’t violent, and he isn’t a killer. I want to make it clear I have nothing to do with anything about to go down.
Il Diavolo doesn’t move. He remains perched in his throne-like chair, peering down at the rest of us like we’re part of his entertainment.
“You are outnumbered three to one, Sergio,” he says simply. “You may open fire any time you like. But realize it will come with consequences. Your grave will be next to Luigi Grasso’s.”
Sergio grits his teeth, his hand shaking as he unsteadily points his gun. “This was an ambush! This was a trap! I was led here under false pretenses and I won’t bend the fucking knee, Diavolo! The Tucos will not stand down!”
“You came here under your own illusion that you had found our compound and could sabotage it. You merely did not anticipate that I am, and always will be, better at your game.” Il Diavolo rises finally to full height, his arms behind his back. The blood-red devil mask looks as fearsome as ever paired with his all-black suit. “You have two options. You lay down your weapon. You agree to my terms and conditions. Then you leave and make sure your boss understands the rules from here on out. Or you continue to defy me, and you suffer my wrath. Make your decision quickly. I have run out of patience.”
I can practically see the beads of sweat roll down the sides of Sergio’s face. He quakes out a rough breath, then slightly lowers his gun.
“I can’t guarantee what Titus will do,” he says uneasily. “But… but I can relay your message. I can let him know your demands.”
“You let him know he has twenty-four hours to make it happen. If he doesn’t, it will be war.”
“Alright. Alright! I’ll make sure Titus understands.”
“Good. Now take him and his men away.”
Il Diavolo’s men crowd around Sergio’s, pointing their guns in their faces.
Sergio hesitates a moment longer, then reluctantly motions his head, gesturing at his crew to relent and lower their weapons to the ground.
“ Ma prima ,” says Il Diavolo suddenly, switching to Italian. “ Per essere sicuri che tu abbia capito .”
Il Diavolo raises a gun he’s retrieved from inside his suit jacket. He points it right at Sergio and pulls the trigger, shooting him in the shoulder.
The bang rings out through the open space of the warehouse, quickly followed by Sergio’s grunt as he buckles to his knees.
“ Questo è un avvertimento. Vi riempirò di altri buchi di proiettile se le mie richieste non saranno soddisfatte. Tutti voi .”
I stand by and watch as Sergio and his men are marched out of the warehouse. Sergio leaves droplets of blood everywhere he steps, clutching his right shoulder with his left hand. His face is screwed up in a grimace of pain.
But even as Sergio and his men do the walk of shame out of the warehouse, there’s still more acting to be done.
Portia’s still lurking. She’s watching from her hiding spot.
Il Diavolo shifts his attention onto me.
“And you,” he says, “you make sure to follow what you have been told. If you continue doing business with my enemy, then you are my enemy. Take him away.”
The same two men who’ve been guarding me grab me by the arms and lead me toward the exit.
We carry on the role play ’til I’m finally back at my Audi, sliding inside the backseat, shielded by the tinted windows. Adagio waits behind the steering wheel. Our gazes meet in the rear view mirror.
“All good?” he asks.
I nod. “Drive. It all went off without a hitch. Sergio will relay the message to Tuco. Either he agrees, or it’s war. The rest was flawless.”
Adagio grins. “So now they know you’re not Il Diavolo.”
“The Tucos and Portia.”
“And what of your dolcezza ?” he teases. “She still in the warehouse?”
“She’ll be sneaking out any second. I told Gavino to tail her. Make sure she gets home safely.”
My phone pings only a few seconds later. It’s a text from Gavino telling me what I’ve anticipated would happen is in motion. Portia has snuck out of the warehouse the way she came and called a taxi to come pick her up.
I release a sigh of relief.
Though my plan was solid, there were still many ways it could’ve gone wrong. That it went off without a hitch is enough to relax me for the night.
Il Diavolo will strategize about what comes next tomorrow. If Titus and his family will choose to bow to the demands or if they still want to fight. Either choice they make is fine with me.
I’ll always come out on top in the end.
My mind wanders to Portia and what she must be thinking. Tonight she saw proof with her own two eyes that I’m a harmless businessman, and not some heavily affiliated mafia big shot. Will it change her mind about our relationship?
My prayers are answered minutes later when we’re driving through the city streets of Newport, on our way to my penthouse, and my phone starts ringing.
At first I expect it’s Gavino to update me about her taxi, or possibly Maurizio to discuss the situation back at the warehouse.
It’s neither of those two. My caller ID reads the name of the woman on my mind. The woman who is my obsession and always will be.
I answer on the second ring. “ Ciao, dolcezza .”
“ Ciao ,” comes the voice on the other end. But it’s not Portia. It’s a male voice. It’s Sergio Sacrimoni .
My fucking heart stops beating inside my chest. I can barely grit out the words, “Why are you calling from this number?”
“I’m here with my friend—you know the cute little lady from the news—and I saw your name in her phone. I figured… why not give you a call? I think we have some things to discuss.”