Corrupt Loyalties: A mafia romance

2. Chapter 1 Soren

Iwalk through our newly constructed casino that the mayor, after some light coaxing on our part, graciously approved. The machines’ swirling lights and bells send a jolt of adrenaline to the players in front of them. The players are like little mice being coaxed to the prize, but in their case it’s just one long journey that leads nowhere. Sure, some wins are bigger than others, and the big wins? Those players always end up spending it back plus more.

Our vents pump extra oxygen onto the casino floor to help with the patrons’ excitement and energy levels. The machine I’m walking by begins to ding, signaling a win, and the lady in front of it jumps up and down. The win sounds impressive, and the psychology behind this industry says that those endorphins coursing through her body will be exactly what we need to keep her playing. Everything on this floor is about keeping them playing.

The security on the floor gives me a head nod as I walk toward our back room. I place my hand on the sensor and it turns green, the lock sliding free with a click. The door closes behind me as I step up to an eye scanner in front of another door. Opening my right eye wide, the scanner reads my retina before I’m welcomed into the secure area.

“That’s not how things are done!” my father, Alesso, bellows at my brother Cyrus.

Cyrus gets right into his face. “I’m in charge, old man, not you.” His voice is icy, with a dark edge. They stand toe to toe with each other. The two of them can’t be in the same room for more than five minutes before the fighting begins.

Our father takes a healthy gulp of his drink. Each mouthful turns his nose a darker shade of red. His dark, beady eyes fire imaginary daggers at Cyrus while his free hand feathers over his gun holster.

“You’re a figurehead, boy. I’m the one who holds the purse strings.” His hand shoots out, pointing toward the door. “You can go play big bad Don out there, but in here, behind closed doors, what I say goes.”

I blow out a breath, tired of this argument. Five years ago, our grandfather named Cyrus heir on his deathbed instead of our father. The tension in our family has been suffocating since.

“I was groomed to run this empire, and that’s what I’m doing,” Alesso seethes, his jaw tensing while his molars grind.

“Then why am I Don and not you?” Cyrus challenges, and it puts my father over the edge. His hand curls around his gun, the safety clicks off, and he points the pistol at Cyrus.

My instincts are faster. I point my gun at his temple before his gun has a chance to touch my brother. I step in front of his barrel, blocking Cyrus. “I think you need a minute to cool down.” My heart drums against my chest. My father is crazy enough to kill me and not feel any remorse.

“Do you remember what happens when I become unhappy?” My father narrows his eyes, challenging me.

Blood rings in my ears as I remember seeing him all those years ago, walking out of our nanny’s room with blood on his hands. We had a new one the next hour. It was all over her telling me I should use my words, not my fists at school.

“Cat got your tongue?” His face morphs into disgust, like my presence is unworthy of him. “Not so tough, after all. I raised a fucking pussy.”

I want to pull the trigger. My arm shakes, waiting for Cyrus to give me the order. My father steps into my gun and returns his to his holster. “Want to be a man? Fucking kill me.”

“That’s enough. We’re family. No one is killing anyone,” Cyrus barks, and my father smiles like he’s won this round. I drop my gun, but keep it in my grip, not trusting the stalemate.

“Boss, the head of the Armato Family has entered the building. He’s heading toward a table. Should we escort him out?” The voice of one of my security guys is loud in my earpiece.

“Get him a drink. I’ll be out in a second.”

“I have a business to run and one of the Armatos just walked in.” They’re the ones who killed our grandfather five years ago. We’ve been going back and forth, retaliating for years, but the last three have been like the cold war, each of us waiting for the attack that never comes.

“When all you boys get yourselves killed, I’ll be enjoying a drink with all of my billions,” Alesso taunts, fishing for another reaction. Before our grandfather died, none of us knew any better than to trust our father. He had us all invest our businesses and money with him, and now he can control us with that.

“Maybe I won’t have to wait that long,” my father continues and looks me dead in the eye. “You lose your inheritance in how many months, Soren?” His words jab into my already black heart. If I don’t get married in the next four months, I lose everything. My heart sinks at the realization. I need this inheritance to keep my father from gaining any more power over me and my brothers. It’s the only way to keep us safe from the crazy motherfucker.

My molars grind throughout our standoff and my father smiles, knowing he’s succeeded in getting under my skin. I squeeze the grip of my gun tighter, wishing I could use it. The tension in the air crackles. Neither of us are willing to stand down first.

“You go do your thing. I have this under control.” Cyrus waves me off, breaking the straining pressure building between us.

I hesitate, torn between not wanting to leave them alone and wanting to personally kill my father. All of us can be hot heads, and we all know how to push each other’s buttons. There’s no saying who will walk out of here alive if I leave.

“Armato just won a grand at blackjack.” My earpiece cuts in.

“I said get him a drink, not let him count cards.”

My father laughs at my retreating back as I slam the first door, unable to control my frustration. When I reach the next door, I blankly stare at it and force a deep breath through my flaring nostrils. If I go out in this state, I’ll be the one making the next attack on the Armatos. That’s probably what they’re hoping for.

I close my eyes, exhaling the air I was holding in my lungs, before I open the door onto the gambling floor. The calming sensation of bells and lights welcomes me back. I walk over to table four, where our enemy is sitting.

Our floor security has doubled since I walked through here, and I take a seat beside the older man. He doesn’t look my way and tosses some chips onto the table.

“I thought our agreement was solid. You stay on your side and we stay on our side?”

I toss a few chips from my pocket on the table just before the deal. I don’t bother looking at my cards before tapping the table for another card. Then I tap again.

“Going in blind?” He raises a brow, finally looking at me.

I split my cards, tapping again. I just want to fuck with his card counting. “What’s the count at now?”

Swearing has both our attentions moving to my father, who’s crossing the casino floor.

“I only came to offer you a gift on a silver platter.” Armato glances at his cards, waving any other cards off.

“Why would you do that?”

“It’s been years. Let’s put the past behind us.” We all flip over our cards, and the house wins the entire table. Armato cashes out his stack, giving me a nonchalant shrug.

I don’t trust the man.

He stands and I stand beside him. “Why are you here?” We walk away from the table, and I lead him to the exit. Our entire conversation is prickling at my senses. He’s up to something.

“I wanted to watch with my own eyes.”

I glance over my shoulder, half expecting a gun to be aimed at my head. His hands are in his pockets and security has now tripled on the floor. If I’m dead, he’s also going to be dead. I tilt my head, knowing I’m missing something.

“You can thank me next time we see each other.” He pats my arm before walking out of the building.

My forehead wrinkles in confusion and I’m left staring at his back. I don’t have time to react when the entrance glass explodes. I’m tossed backwards off my feet, shards of glass splattering the area from the force of the bomb.

The casino erupts into screams and confusion as everyone runs every which way.

I push myself to my feet and run out the door, my shoes crunching glass beneath me. Armato climbs into the back of his car, giving me a wave as I spot my father on the ground. The car bomb has blown the roof off my father’s Camaro and the metal is on fire.

This is it. Someone killed him. Relief like I’ve never felt before surges through my body as I scan the road to see if there’s going to be a second attack. Everything, aside from the blazing mess left behind by the explosion and the panicked masses as they vacate the building, seems to be in order.

I shake my head, pulling myself out of my stupor, and rush to my father. His leg moves and he opens his eyes with a groan.

“Are you hurt?” I ask, trying to help him up, but he pushes me away.

“This isn’t the first attempt on my life, boy. They should know by now, I can’t be killed.”

He gets on all fours, and I watch in disbelief as he pushes himself up. He dusts his dirty suit off and adjusts his tie like his car hadn’t just exploded in his face.

“Family meeting after we pay off the cops and you get the casino under control.”