Chapter 10 Mass
MASS
Most days, Scampia Island is a paradise. Temperate but warm with winds that cut through most of the worst humidity. I paid an obscene amount of money for this place, but it was worth every penny.
The original dream was for a private oasis away from the world. This was meant to be my escape. I worked hard all my life, killed, stole, plotted, and burned my way to the top. Scampia Island was meant to be a reward for all that.
Now it’s something else, mostly thanks to Lucy’s constant scheming.
“Three of the five families are here,” she says as we stroll along the walkway that connects the Fortress half of the island with the Resort.
An overhang covers us from the morning sun.
Behind us, an enormous wall with a checkpoint gate recedes into the distance, and ahead, the sumptuous Resort structure looms like paradise.
“Where are the others?”
“They sent representatives and made the appropriate apologies. You know how they can be. Zaza is trusted beyond a doubt, and Catania is solid. It’s these other three we need to be concerned about.”
“And Allie’s father?”
“Also in attendance. He left the sons home.”
“That’s good. We don’t need some idiot making trouble.”
Lucy glances at me. “You were young and restless once too, remember?”
“And I backed it up.” We reach the Resort’s back gate and are immediately ushered through with respectful nods from the guards.
The interior of the Resort looks like a high-end hotel. Marble floors and walls, rich tapestries and beautiful statues, priceless paintings and gorgeous mosaics. Quiet, friendly staff members keep to themselves as we stroll past, heading deeper into the building.
We don’t come across many guests. The Resort is quiet at the moment.
It’s at half capacity at most, which is my preference.
Lucy would pack it full every weekend if she could, but it’s better this way.
The Resort needs to remain exclusive and mysterious; otherwise, the ultra-rich and extremely powerful elite members of society who come here will lose interest.
The Resort is a playground. Any pleasures imaginable can be found here. Drugs are openly used and offered. Orgies are common. Clothes are typically optional. Drug-fueled sex parties rage each night after guests gorge themselves on incredible multi-course meals.
All of this is paid for from my coffers.
I keep the best chefs, the greatest sex workers, and the most discreet staff possible. The Resort is heaven for anyone lucky enough to get invited.
Only those worth my time ever step foot through these doors.
And I absolutely hate it.
One day, I’m going to burn this place to the ground. I’m going to personally kill each and every single man and woman in this place, and I’m going to laugh as fire consumes millions of dollars’ worth of priceless art and artifacts. I don’t care if the inferno rages across my entire island.
I can’t wait to destroy everything about the Resort.
For now, it’s still useful as a way to curry favor and solidify alliances.
Lucy takes me to one of the high-end conference rooms we keep for meetings like this one.
We pause outside before entering. “Salvator Pasutto, Michele Licciardi, and Raffa Trentino are waiting inside from the Five Families. The Pasuttos are most likely our biggest problem, but don’t write off the Licciardis or the Trentinos.
Allie’s father, Francesco, is with them, but he’s of no importance. ”
I nod absently, thinking about the dense web of business and familial relationships binding all these people together.
The Five Families have been running the NYC underworld for generations.
Their connection back to the old world remains solid.
I’ve been friendly with them since my rise from absolutely nothing, though only Zaza and Catania have truly been mine.
The others are more difficult to pin down.
They’ve married, intermarried, fallen out, gone to war, and reestablished alliances so many times it’s impossible to say if any of them understand the concept of loyalty.
We enter the conference room. It’s warm and comfortable.
The four men are sitting around a long table smoking cigars and drinking from crystal tumblers.
Several women working for the Resort are there chatting, laughing, and flirting.
They’re all beautiful and very good at pretending they give a damn about the men they’re assigned to seduce.
The moment I enter the room, the women all discreetly say goodbye and leave without a backward glance.
“You didn’t have to chase the birds away, Massimo,” Salvator Pasutto says.
He’s a big man in his sixties with thinning black dyed hair and bright eyes.
He’s clever, vain, and sadistic. I never liked him, though I don’t really like anyone.
He’s the Don of the Pasutto Famiglia and always a problem when he comes to the Resort.
“No doubt at least one of my employees would have a slit throat by now if you were left alone with them.” I give him an unamused stare, and the big man only laughs at my insult.
“You don’t give me enough credit. I’d slit a bird’s throat in front of these sleazebags without a second thought.”
“It’s true,” Raffa Trentino confirms. “I watched him strangle a man one time because he forgot to bring an extra side of pizza sauce. Can you fuckin’ imagine that?
” He laughs loudly. The Don of the Trentino Outfit’s in his fifties, thin and muscular, with dark slicked-back hair and a mouth full of fake white teeth.
“I believe what my associates mean to say is thank you for your hospitality, Don Cardone.” Michele Licciardi sits back in his chair, puffing on a cigar.
He watches me with a shrewd frown. All of these men are dangerous, but Licciardi might be the worst of the bunch.
He looks like a lounge singer in his mid-sixties and kills like humans are nothing more than bags of trash.
The only one who doesn’t speak is Allie’s father. Francesco Russo isn’t drinking or smoking. He sits off to the side, watching with an air of barely restrained anger.
He’s a smart man, keeping his mouth shut, but he’s a fool if he doesn’t understand how his sudden association with me is a huge benefit to him and his family.
I sit at the head of the table. Lucy takes a position over my shoulder.
She keeps her phone in her pocket, which I know is physically painful for her.
The room is being watched by at least a dozen guards, and more than one is aiming hidden sniper rifles from the high corners of the room.
If any of the men in here move on me, they’ll be dead before they stand.
I bristled at that level of protection early in my career, but I’ve since learned that a careful man survives while a prideful man feeds worms.
Everyone watches as I get settled. I let them linger in the silence for a moment. None of them is stupid enough to speak out of turn, not until I’ve officially begun this little meeting.
I’ve had to learn these small power tactics over the course of my career.
I came from the streets, killed to take over bigger and bigger operations, until now I’m sitting at the top of a long pyramid drenched in blood and filled with gold.
It’s a different game these days, but I’m still the same thug from the crime-riddled streets of northern Naples.
“I appreciate you all coming here to speak with me on such short notice.”
That breaks the ice enough. Pasutto’s the first to speak up, as always. “Not that you gave us much of a choice. That was one hell of a wedding.”
I glance at Francesco Russo. He stares back stonily.
“It was necessary to make you all understand the stakes we’re dealing with.”
“What are those stakes?” Licciardi asks.
“Allesandra Russo is my bride. Her daughter is my daughter by blood. Even though she was promised to someone else, she was always going to be mine. What I did was acceptable by rights.”
“Damn your rights,” her father snaps suddenly, anger exploding out of him. “I want my daughter back, you kidnapping—”
Licciardi silences him with a sharp glare. Russo’s jaw clicks shut and he sits back, body straining with rage, but he knows he crossed a line.
“I understand you’re Allie’s father and have her best interests at heart, which is why you aren’t dead. Another comment like that, and I will gladly end you.” I turn to Licciardi. “I assume there will be some debt to pay for the death of my wife’s former fiancé.”
He tilts his head to the side as if in thought. “Perhaps, in easier times, that might be true.”
My eyebrows raise. “What other option is there? The girl is mine. The baby is mine. I will pay and be done with this.”
“Not everything can be smoothed over,” Raffa Trentino says sullenly.
“What Don Trentino means is we’ve come on behalf of our associate here.” Licciardi waves toward Allie’s father. “He demands his daughter back. We are inclined to agree with him. What you did at her wedding was a step too far, even for a Dragon.”
I stare at him. I can’t recall the last time someone stood up to me like that. It’s a strange feeling. My stomach clenches with excitement and adrenaline slowly pours into my veins.
There’s nothing better than a challenge.
“There is no such thing as too far for a Dragon.” I lean back in my chair, drumming my fingers on the armrest. “The girl will not be returned. She lives here with me now. I can offer payment again—”
“We don’t want money, Don Cardone.” Licciardi meets my stare. “The families are united in this. We want the girl back in New York where she belongs. This was not well done. This was not what we had agreed to. You should have come to us, told us your plans, at least out of respect—”