Chapter 1 #2
Eli sits back down with his daughter in his lap, even as she fights to get out of it. Can’t wait to turn my little niece against her asshole of a father. That way she and I will change shifts to give him a headache.
“Can I tell Ma?” I ask him.
“Tell me what, Lucio?”
Shit.
Ma walks in with her wine glass, giving me that same look she used when I was thirteen and had just been caught stealing alcohol from the wine cellar.
“Uh… How beautiful you are. I don’t think any of us have told you that today, have we?” I look to my brothers for some help, but I swear I see an amused glint in Matteo’s eyes and Emiliano’s left eye twitch.
“Cut the shit, boys. What are you wanting to tell me?” She settles on the chair beside Romiro, crossing one leg over the other.
Eli shoots me a glare before clearing his throat. “What Lucio wanted to tell is that we’ve decided on some security changes. For Mara and you, specifically.”
I cut in before anyone else says anything. “Hey! Who the fuck is ‘we’? Are you fuckers talking French or something, because I sure as fuck wasn’t even involved in deciding. You and the mute fucker over here decided between yourselves.”
“Shut up, Lucio,” Eli says before looking at Ma.
“Don’t tell your brother to shut up. And what have you decided for your sister and me without even asking us?” Ma narrows her eyes at Eli. If looks could kill…
“That it’s for the best to send you both to Italy with Nicolo Esposito,” he says with what can only be described as a grimace on his face.
Ma doesn’t even flinch before she gets up, takes Bianca out of Eli’s lap, hands her to me, and throws her glass of wine in Eli’s face, soaking his white shirt with red. Romiro smothers his laugh with the back of his hand, but I don’t attempt to conceal my own amusement.
“You’re lucky you’re holding my daughter in your hands, you ugly fuck,” he snarls at me.
Who the fuck is he calling an ugly fuck? Not me, for sure. I know my brother can be stupid sometimes, but not blind.
“Just say you’re fucking jealous of my beauty. You won’t be the only one,” I tell him.
Romiro mutters, “Christ,” under his breath as if he’s the one who just got called ugly.
“Back to what’s important. Emiliano Folonari, I did not raise you for you to make decisions for your sister and I without even considering our opinion.
Neither I nor Mara will be stepping foot out of New York City, never mind the damn country,” Ma calmly says as she sets the wine glass on the table in front of her.
Eli stands, wiping the last droplets of wine off his face. “But Ma?—”
“Not a word. I’m not some pet for you to decide for me. You will not disrespect me in my own home. I didn’t take shit from your father—God rest his soul—just to take shit from my own son.” She doesn’t wait for another beat before heading back inside the house, not turning to look back once.
My older brother looks at me with murderous intent. I can tell from that gleam in his eyes; he often gets that look when I push his buttons too much. That’s when I know the crash-out is coming. This man is more hormonal than a teenage boy.
Are we even sure that he’s not a teenage boy?
Matteo elbows me in the side.
“Ouch! What the fuck man?” I turn to look at him, but he juts his chin in Eli’s direction.
“I don’t even know what the fuck we keep you around for,” Eli says as he steps closer.
I hand him Bee, who has been surprisingly quiet the entire time watching her Nonna throw wine at her papa. “You keep me around because I bring in millions for the Camorra, whether you hate to admit it or not.”
And I’m good with my hands when we want to dismember some fuckers who think they’re cute and decide to fuck around and find out.
I kill the engine of my car before stepping out into the damp, cold air. The wind picks up some wrapper from the floor and carries it across the concrete while the strong smell of the ocean burns itself into my nostrils.
It’s past nine when I reach the docks. One of our contacts had mentioned something about suspicious activities near here a couple of days ago.
And coincidently— not —we have a shipment of cocaine coming in today.
I double check that I have my 0.22 tucked in my waistband before I reach our two guys, Joseph and Umberto. Old fuckers, but loyal.
“Anything suspicious tonight?” I ask once I reach them.
“Boss.” They both jump out of their chairs, tipping their heads as acknowledgement. “No, there hasn’t been anything around here, but about a mile from here, there are two cars stationed with blacked-out windows. Vito messaged earlier to let us know.”
It could be one of three: the fucking Feds, the Outfit, or one of the other factions in New York is looking to steal some of our “product.”
Pulling out my gun, I cock it. “Call unit six. They’re around the corner and will get here faster. Stay alert. The shipment is coming in very soon.”
They both nod and pull out their phones. My eyes narrow, but I ignore that nagging voice that tells me something here is wrong. It’s too quiet, especially for a night that a shipment is meant to arrive.
Pulling out my phone, I quickly dial Matteo. He’ll have intel on who should be at the docks to receive the shipment, because there’s no fucking reason for just the three of us to be here to ensure the safety of the product.
The sound of the waves fills the air, crashing against the rocks angrily, as if questioning its confinement.
“Is something wrong, Lucio?”
“Yes. Umberto, Joseph, and I are the only ones at the docks waiting for the damn shipment. Aren’t there supposed to be more men?”
The light above me flickers before going out completely and bathing the area in darkness. Something eerie is going on. I can feel it in my fucking gut.
“Are you sure, Lucio? There should be at least thirty men lining the parameters with AKs, ready for anyone trying to pull something,” Matteo says.
Fuck. Something is definitely wrong.
“I’m sure, little brother. Only two of our men are actually on site.
I need backup. The shipment is due in less than an hour and something fishy is going on around here, and I don’t mean the damn smell that’s coming out of the ocean.
And there are two cars parked around a mile from here with tinted windows. ”
“Right. I’ve sent in two units. Unit Six was meant to be there but I’ve sent in Unit Nine and Unit Three. Silvio and Mariano will be there in five minutes. Eli wants a status update once the units arrive, and again after the shipment is received.”
“Got it.” I cut the call without another word.
I need to stay focused. Be aware of my surroundings. I do a quick pass over the stretching landscape: concrete, large containers waiting to be filled and driven to warehouses, the unsettling silence of the docks.
I slip my phone into my pocket and keep a steady grip on my gun. Glancing over my shoulder, I double-check that no one is trying to sneak up on me. The docks are empty, but I sweep between the massive shipping containers, checking every shadow for movement.
After rounding the entire area, I head back to the entrance just as four military-grade SUVs pull up, Mariano and Silvio both stepping out in full bullet proof gear with their AKs strapped to their chests.
“Don’t tell me you thought you’d be able to take on someone who wanted to attack the shipment with that tiny fucking gun.” Mariano cocks his head to the side, as if mocking me.
The rest of the men file out of the SUVs quietly and spread out to secure the docks, each equipped with his own gun and bulletproof vest. This is fucking comical; they look like they’re in a movie or some shit.
“Don’t fucking piss me off. It’ll do its job if I want to put a bullet between your fucking eyes.” I take the AK that Silvio passes me.
“You wish, Folonari. I’m not some low-ranking soldier you can scare off with that kind of shit talk. Where’s Umberto and Joseph?” he asks, stepping past me, his eyes sweeping over the dark area.
“They were meant to be here, but methinks we have two little rats in our ranks,” I tell him, stuffing my 0.22 back in my waistband and checking the AK is loaded.
Mariano turns to look at me, that insane stare of his gleaming in his eyes. “So we’re going to have some fun tonight.” He turns to the two soldiers that stayed by his side. “Find Umberto and Joseph. It’s been a long time since I’ve had to squash some rats.”
They nod before they go off to search for the two slimy fucks.
A gunshot goes off close by, and everyone is on high alert. More shots fire, and we spot the twenty-odd intruders as they weave between the containers, trying to stay protected.
We’re being attacked from both sides. Fuck. Mariano and I go to assist the right side, while Silvio heads off to the left. Bullets whirl past us as we take cover.
This is going to get messy. Eh, at least I get to let off some steam.
I swing out from cover and unload on the bastard who fired at one of our own.
Bullseye. The bullet embeds itself in his big-ass forehead and he falls to the ground.
I press my back against the metal container and look at Mariano; the psycho fucker is smiling at me like it’s Christmas morning and he’s six.
We both nod at each other before we pop our heads out again and shoot.
This time, I get a guy in the chest, but a bullet embeds itself in my fucking arm.
I clench my jaw as the bullet rips its way through my flesh.
Though it feels like it takes forever, we manage to push them back to the point where the last few try to run off, but the remainder of our soldiers round them.
One of the guys tries to run off, but Mariano tackles him to the ground and slashes his throat.
Blood splatters all over him, soaking his face and clothes.
The fucker loves a messy kill. You’d think he bathes in blood every morning with the way he smiles when the blood lands on his face.
He doesn’t even bother wiping it off. Maniac.