Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Sergio
The small thirty-foot yacht pulled up to the dock outside the Trident Room, an exclusive invite only club owned by Vasilas Drakos, Dorian’s big brother, and the head of the Drakos Syndicate on the island of Milos.
I was running late, so I was sure my brothers, except for Gianni, were already here. However, I had no respect for any of the Drakos, especially Dorian. The motherfuckers could wait, and I liked to make an entrance, anyway.
With Finley by my side, we disembarked and walked along the short dock until we reached a narrow stone archway carved into the cliff, half-swallowed by bougainvillea and shadows. There was no signage, just a discreet brass bell and a man in a white linen outfit watching from the shadows.
“Make sure you keep an eye on everyone, including Dorian.”
Finley nodded.
“Mr. Puglisi. Welcome to the Trident Room. Everyone is waiting,” the man said.
He pushed open the heavy, weathered door.
“Please follow me.”
The slow, pulsing music hit my ears when we stepped inside. Of course, I’d never been to the Trident Room. There was no goddamn way any Drakos would dare invite a Puglisi, but I heard stories about the place. It was somewhere for the rich, powerful, and the horny to unwind.
Shadows danced across the room as amber sconces flickered behind the smoked glass. A trident-shaped chandelier of darkened bronze hung above, its tips dripping with a dim light that barely illuminated the room.
“This is fucking wild,” Finley murmured as he took in the club along with me.
It was very impressive. I’d give Vasilas that much. If I didn’t hate the bastards so much, this would be a place I would hang out.
The polished obsidian tile floors with veins of gold shimmered in the dim light.
Deep blue velvet drapes, embroidered with gold trident designs softened the rough stone walls.
And soft leather chairs arranged in a triangle around a central table carved from driftwood and marble were placed throughout the room.
The place was packed but not so packed that it was hard to navigate. Men and women, surrounded by the aroma of expensive cigars, sipped liquor and wine served by topless waitresses and bare-chested waiters in black, leather, assless chaps.
Reaching one of the large blue velvet drapes adorning the walls, the man pulled it back, revealing a private entrance. We stepped inside a long hallway, more modernized than the main area.
The heavy velvet drape closed behind us, shutting out the noise of the main room.
The clean lines of smooth concrete walls tinted a cool gray with a faint matte finish stretched in front of us at least ten to twenty feet.
Recessed LED strips ran along the baseboards and ceilings, casting a soft amber glow that lit the path for us.
A matte black door with no handle or visible lock was at the end of the tunnel flush with the surface. A single trident symbol etched in brushed brass, glowed from it like it had been branded into the metal.
“This is some batman shit,” Finley mumbled.
I glared at him over my shoulder. “Now’s not the time to be fucking fangirling over the enemy, asshole.”
He just shrugged. “It’s fucking cool, though.”
When we reached the door, the man leaned forward. A retina scanner, no bigger than a nickel encased in a subtle red halo, was embedded at the base of the trident’s central prong that glowed when activated.
The trident symbol pulsed with a soft light, and a mechanical click broke the silence of the corridor. The door made a low whoosh sound, like pressurized air escaping a vault. And the door didn’t swing open, it slid sideways into the wall.
“Yeah, this is some batman shit,” Finley said, causing our escort to chuckle.
The man stepped to the side, motioning us forward. “Gentlemen.”
We walked in, then the door closed behind us. A long, matte black boardroom table that looked like it was carved from volcanic rock dominated the space. Around it sat twelve steel and black leather chairs, each facing the center.
Behind the table, on the far wall made of raw gray stone a massive, blackened brass trident was mounted.
To the right, a single floor-to-ceiling window framed in matte steel stretched the length of the entire room giving a view of the sea.
Waves crashed against jagged rocks below.
Even though the glass was soundproof, you could feel the violence of the water in your bones.
This entire set up as well as this sit-down was to enforce to the Puglisi’s and more importantly to me that Vasilas and the Drakos Syndicate were in control of this situation. However, I hated to break the news to them, no one controlled me. Not even my brothers.
Lorenzo and Dante were already at one end of the table when we arrived, while Vasilas, with his brother Stavros, and that motherfucker Dorian, sat at the other.
The way they looked at me didn’t faze me as I walked to my seat next to Lorenzo, while Finley positioned himself by the wall, close to Lorenzo’s two guards and Dante’s guard.
Could I have been on time? Sure. But I didn’t move on anyone’s time but my own. I wanted to make sure the entire Drakos family knew they couldn’t order me to do shit. I was here because I wanted to be here and to show a united force with Lorenzo. He was the don after all. Fuck all the rest of them.
“Thank you for coming to this meeting,” Vasilas said once I took my seat. “I’m going to get straight to the point.”
“That would be appreciated,” Lorenzo said.
“As you all know, my sister-in-law and Dorian’s wife, Seraphina Drakos is missing.”
From what I knew about Vasilas, he didn’t mince words.
When he spoke, it was deliberate and final.
Every time I’d seen him, which wasn’t often, he wore tailored black suits.
No tie. No flash. Just clean lines and quiet authority.
He was like an apex predator in our world, but he didn’t put any fear into me.
No one did.
“And what does that have to do with the Puglisi’s?” Lorenzo asked. “We were only here for a family gathering and on our way home we got this invitation.”
Dorian jumped to his feet, pointing at me. “That motherfucker took my wife!”
The sight of his outrage filled me with such a deep sense of satisfaction, especially after what he did to Seraphina. But the only fucked up thing was I couldn’t let it show. I couldn’t gloat then they would know I had her.
Vasilas’s hand landed on his arm, and Dorian sat back in his chair, sulking like a chastised child.
“The Puglisi’s had no part in Seraphina’s abduction,” Lorenzo said. “If it was an abduction that is.”
“And what makes you think it wasn’t?” Vasilas asked, with his brow arched and his hands steepled.
I couldn’t tell if he knew what his brother did to Seraphina and just turned a blind eye to it, or if he was in the dark.
“From my conversation with Phoenix, she saw bruises on Seraphina,” Lorenzo said.
Vasilas tried to hide his reaction, but I caught it. His nostrils flared and his jaw clenched. Yeah, he had no clue what his brother was doing to her.
“Maybe Seraphina ran away,” Lorenzo continued. “Maybe she got tired of being abused and needed to escape.”
“I didn’t touch her!” Dorian shouted.
“No one said you did,” Lorenzo said, maintaining his calm. “However, that doesn’t negate the fact that her sister saw her with bruises. And we had nothing to do with this.”
Vasilas’s eyes slid to me. “And you?”
“What about me?” I asked, leaning back in my chair.
His cold, hard stare, like a sheet of ice, would have broken a weaker man. But that shit didn’t faze me. Fuck Vasilas and his entire fucking bloodline.
“Did you have anything to do with this?” Vasilas asked.
I chuckled. “Why the fuck would I kidnap someone I used to fuck years ago? We split. It’s not my fault that limp dick motherfucker can’t hold on to his wife.”
“I’ll fucking kill you!” Dorian jumped to his feet, pulled his gun, and aimed it at me.
I held my hand up, motioning for Finley, who moved to stand behind me, to lower his weapon without removing my gaze from Dorian.
I smiled, despite the gun aimed at me. “Do it,” I taunted. “If it’ll make you feel better, your wife left you because you’re such a little man who has to beat on a woman that’s half his size to get his rocks off, then squeeze the fucking trigger motherfucker. I fucking dare you.”
I didn’t fucking care if I died today as long as this motherfucker couldn’t get to her.
“Vasilas, you don’t want a war with us,” Lorenzo said, his voice harder than it was before. “Tell your brother to put the fucking gun down before he does something he’ll regret.”
Vasilas sighed. “Put the gun down, Dorian. And go get some air.”
Dorian didn’t move and his gun remained trained on me. His finger was on the trigger, and I braced myself for the bullet. If it was my time to go, I’d go straight to hell, protecting the woman I loved.
“Now!” Vasilas shouted.
Dorian glared at his brother, but he lowered his gun. “This isn’t over.” He pointed at me. “I’m coming for you.”
“And I’ll be waiting, bitch.” I winked at him, before he stormed out of the room.
Vasilas watched his brother go, then blew out a breath when the door closed behind him.
“I don’t know what’s going on between him and his wife because I don’t get myself involved in people’s marriages.
But if there’s any truth in what you say, I’ll handle my brother.
But let me make myself very clear. Seraphina is a Drakos and we handle matters on our own.
She’s to be returned to the Drakos family, if not, that means you have taken something that belongs to us. To me. Do I make myself clear?”
“Seraphina may be a Drakos by marriage, but her sister is a Puglisi, which makes her family. We don’t tolerate men laying hands on women, especially one of ours.
You can handle your brother for now. But once she’s found, if she’s done with him, she gets to walk away.
No questions asked. Do I make myself clear?
” Lorenzo stood. “We don’t want a war with you, but we will if it means keeping our family safe. ”
He didn’t wait for Vasilas to respond. Him, Dante, and their men left. I, on the other hand, stuck around. I wanted to see where Vasilas stood and maybe irritate him just a little.
When the door closed, my attention slid back to Vasilas, and he arched a brow. “You’re still here.”
He already sounded irritated with the situation.
“I am.”
“Say what’s on your mind, Puglisi.”
“I have no beef with you or your family, but I do with Dorian.”
“So, are you admitting that you have Seraphina?”
I chuckled. “Of course not. That would be stupid of me. I’m not a stupid man, Vasilas.”
“You’re sitting in this room alone with me says otherwise, Sergio.”
“We can agree to disagree on that point.”
“What do you want?”
“Other than your brother’s head on a platter?”
He leaned forward, planting his forearms on the table. “Is that a threat?”
“Of course it is.” I stood, buttoned the button on my suit jacket. “He fucked with the wrong woman, and now he’ll pay the price. Unlike my brothers, I don’t give a fuck about protocol, Vasilas. Your brother laid his hands on her, and that’s all that matters to me.”
“So, you want a war with the Drakos family over a woman that’s not yours?” His deep laugh echoed through the room. “That’s pathetic.”
“Maybe it is. And you’re entitled to your opinion. But that’s where you and your fucking brother are mistaken. Seraphina Blaine will always be mine.”
He leaned back in his chair; his face was stoic.
I winked, then made my way to the door with Finley following behind me. Could Vasilas kill me now? He could. A bullet to the back of the head would be a fucked up way to go. But Vasilas knew his brother fucked up. This issue wasn’t with the Puglisi family or me. The issue was in his own house.