24. Chapter Twenty Four
Chapter Twenty Four
Vincenzo
T he car pulls up to the job site and I groan as I exit the car. The amount of damage on the construction equipment alone is going to set us back a couple of weeks. Not to mention the hundreds of thousands of dollars this will cost Rossi Enterprises.
“What's the plan, Boss?” I glance at Martin briefly before focusing back on the disarray before me.
“Look into our competition, Martin. I want no stone unturned. Follow up with our enemies and make sure they have nothing to do with it. The last thing my father will want to hear is that the Petrov’s had anything to do with this.” Martin nods as he takes notes on his phone.
“Yes sir, anything else?” I walk towards the closest vehicle and inspect the damage.
“Have we checked CCTV footage yet?”
Martin shakes his head. “No sir, the tapes have been tampered with. We’re working on it, to see if we can get a clear image of what happened.”
My phone rings and I let out a groan but answer it quickly, wanting to get this conversation over and done with. “Yes, Father?”
“You are expected at dinner tonight; your mother misses you and has invited your betrothed.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose, attempting to keep my temper at bay. “What time?” I breathe out, knowing a fight with my father is not necessary.
“Six thirty, and don’t be late. You know how your mother is.”
I roll my eyes at his words, the only person who will complain if I'm late is my father. “I’ll be there.” I hang up and catch Martin smirking at me. I glare at him, and his smile drops. “Don’t you have work to do?”
I grunt as Martin scrambles away from me, and glare at the wreckage before me; my frustration building. The fact someone had the balls to make a move against Rossi Enterprises is baffling.
I slam my fist into the side of a crane and grind my teeth. The damage done to our equipment could have been far worse. It could have taken out half of the site or injured one of our men. I am sure of one thing, this is a targeted attack. And I won’t rest until I find those responsible.
As we pull up outside of my father’s home, I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Dressed in a business suit, because I know my mother will accept nothing less. I let out a frustrated sigh knowing I need to play happy families this evening, all while copping a tongue lashing from my father.
As I exit the car, I straighten my tie and take a deep breath. I can do this. I glance at the house, a grimace crossing my face as I mentally prepare myself for the evening ahead.
Entering the house, I am greeted with a smile from my mother as she takes my arm and leads me towards the dining room. "Enzo, dear, how was your day?" Her voice is bright and cheerful.
"Fine, Mother," I answer tersely, giving her a small smile in return. "And you?"
"Oh, darling, I could not be better! Although, I must say it is always such a pleasure when you grace us with your presence,” she gushes.
I can’t help but roll my eyes at the song and dance she’s putting on. That only tells me one thing. Kayla and her parents are here.
“Sweetie,” Kayla squeals as my mother and I enter the dining room.
It takes everything in me to not cringe and run the other way. I plaster a fake smile as Kayla flails her arms around and races towards me in her ridiculously high heels. My mother steps away from me as Kayla throws herself at me, planting a sticky kiss against my cheek.
“You look so stressed, baby, come, sit down by me,” Kayla exclaims, dragging me towards a chair.
“Nice to see you again, Mr and Mrs Dubrovsky.” Kayla’s father raises his glass at me, as her mother sports her usual pinched face. I never know what to make of that woman. She always looks like she’s sniffing a bad smell.
Food begins coming out of the kitchen and is placed before us, as Kayla chats away about whatever harebrained scheme she is up to with her bimbo entourage, that I'm sure her daddy paid for her to have.
“And what about wedding plans?” My mother asks, giving me a pointed look. Dropping my fork to my plate with a clang, I choke on my pasta.
“Pookie, you got sauce all over your face,” Kayla tuts as she takes a napkin to my face dabbing the sauce away.
My mother ‘awes’ as she watches my worst nightmare unfold before her.
“Enzo has been super busy at work, so I’ve taken the liberty to start planning without him.
” A huge smile stretches across her heavily made-up face.
I feel the blood drain from my face, as she pulls out a notebook and a fluffy pen that looks like it belongs back in the nineties.
She flips to the first page, and my heart races, as I feel my eyes widen in horror.
"I think we should have a very traditional wedding," she gushes, her voice bubbling with excitement.
"You know what your father always says, 'Tradition is the key to maintaining a strong family foundation. '"
My stomach churns at the thought of following in my father's footsteps. She giggles and my father nods in approval. My mothers face lights up with joy and I slump back in my chair. It’s going to be a long night.
"Oh, I couldn't agree more, dear," my father chimes in. His delight makes my skin crawl, and I can feel the tension in the room mounting. "You know your mother and I have always had our way of doing things."
"And what way is that?" I question, challenging them both as their eyes narrow at me. Kayla’s parents exchange a glance as my father raises from his seat.
"We do what is best for the family," my mother declares, haughtily. She looks like an angry queen ready to strike down anyone who dares to defy her.
"And that means following tradition," my father adds, his voice deep and firm; a clear reminder of who holds the reins in this family.
I know I'm not getting anywhere in this conversation, so I let it go.
Kayla clears her throat and carries on about doves and stupid meaningless shit.
My father takes his seat again, picking up his wine and taking a sip.
He glares daggers at me for the rest of the evening as I focus all my efforts on the food being placed before me.
I force myself to eat, the food tasting like cardboard as I slowly suffocate under the expectations that come with being Rossi.
After what feels like an eternity, the dinner finally comes to an end, and I stand up to leave the table. “Son, a word?” My father’s voice cracks through the room as he focuses his gaze on me. I nod once and follow him out of the room towards his office.
“See you soon, sweetie,” Kayla calls after me and I cringe internally.
In his office, he motions for me to sit down, while he takes a seat behind his large mahogany desk. The room is filled with the scent of his expensive cigars. His walls are lined with matching bookshelves and a leather lounge suite by the fireplace.
I drop myself into a leather chair across from my father, knowing this conversation won’t turn in my favour.
"Enzo, you know I expect nothing but the best from you," he begins, his voice a deep rumble.
"And I expect you to follow through with your responsibilities, including marrying Kayla and continuing the Rossi legacy.
" I clench my fists, frustration boiling within me.
I knew this conversation was coming. I'm sick and tired of my father laying out my expectations for me.
“You know making ties to a Russian family will turn in our favour,” he continues when I give him no response.
“They may not be high ranking within the Bratva, but they’re high enough to bring us more gun power and more followers.
This wedding will secure your place to make a move against the Petrovs.
” My father stands and makes his way to his bar cart.
He pours himself a scotch, then pours one for me.
He passes me the amber liquid in a crystal glass and raises his own.
“Salute, son.” I stare down at the glass in my hand, swallowing the bile as his words float around in my head.
I knew this was the reason he was pushing me into this marriage.
“You know I don’t want to do this, Father,” I mutter, my father takes a sip of his drink as he walks back towards his desk. He continues to eye me as he sits down in his chair inspecting me before responding.
"Now listen here, young man," my father begins, leaning forward in his chair. "You're a Rossi. Our family has been respected in this city for generations. We've always done what's best for our name, our legacy, and our future."
I can't help but roll my eyes. "And what is that? Making alliances with the very people we're fighting against?" I spit out, as frustration fuels my words.
He looks at me sternly. "Enzo, the world isn't black and white. It's a game of chess, one move at a time. The Petrov family may be seen as our enemies today, but what if they could become our allies tomorrow? What if this marriage secures us even more power and safety than we ever had before?"
Anger wells up in my chest, as I stare at the man who raised me with an iron fist. "And what about what I want, huh?" I slam my fist onto the desk; causing papers to scatter. "What about my dreams, my future? What about the person I want to become?" I throw my crystal glass across the room.
“You listen to me now, old man. I have grown Rossi enterprises into what it is today, and I will continue to make it grow. I will not be marrying Kayla, and this marriage bullshit ends today. I will marry whoever the fuck I want, whenever I fucking decide to. I have made a name for myself, and I have gotten myself to where I am today on my own.”
My father's face turns a deep shade of red, his veins bulging with fury.
"You ungrateful little..." he growls, but he stops himself short.
He takes a deep breath, calming down before continuing.
"Enzo, I know you think you have this all figured out, but trust me when I say, you don't know shit about anything.
" He slams his fist on the mahogany desk, causing the room to shake.
"You are a Rossi. You were born into this life and given everything on a silver platter, but you have yet to really earn your place in this family. "
I scoff, attempting to hide my hurt at his words.
"I have earned my place through my hard work and dedication.
I built this company from the ground up with blood, sweat, and tears," I retort, defiantly.
His smug smile fades slightly. “Just try to take what I am owed, because you forget who has been handling all the deals. Whose name is on all the business deeds. Who does Rossi Enterprises really belong to now?”
He leans back in his chair, understanding dawning on his face as he realises the predicament he’s found himself in.
I stand from my chair not even waiting for his reply and exit the room.
I ignore Kayla calling out to me as I march toward the front door, flinging it open.
Her voice screeches behind me as she follows me out of the house.
My driver pulls up in the driveway and I enter the car, slamming the door behind me. “Take me home.”
“Yes, Sir,” he responds immediately, leaving my insane family behind me. I pull out my phone and decide to message the one person who I feel will take my mind off of everything.
I miss you. What are you up to?
I wait for Emilia’s reply, watching those dreaded three dots appear and disappear a few times.
Just working. Have a crazy deadline. Chat soon.
I stare down at her response, my brows furrowing. Is she avoiding me?