4. Elio
Chapter four
Elio
A light knock on the door interrupts my thoughts, and the door gently swings open with my second-in-command, my half-brother?Cortez, striding in.
He is the son of a woman my father had impregnated. We used to live together until his mom died. I later found out my father had sent him to a boarding school. I’d looked everywhere for my brother, and when I finally found him, I wanted him under my care. My father had mistreated us when we were younger, and I promised that I’d do whatever the fuck it took to protect him.
Now, he works with me as my right-hand man. It’s my own way of making sure he has the power, exposure, and wealth this mafia family has to offer. As long as he’s with me, he’ll lack nothing.
Cortez’s tall and lean build catches my eye as he advances towards me. His honey-brown hair is cropped in the same way mine is, cut to a moderate length and left to shape his face perfectly.
“ Capo (Boss).” He lowers his head a little, and I wave him into the chair opposite my mahogany desk.
“Talk to me.” Even beneath his bangs, I can see his piercing brown eyes are as alert as always, his shoulders tensing as he holds his phone in one hand.
“That courthouse meeting is in an hour…”
I raise a brow. “That’s today?” The nasty thoughts of a sexy would-be lawyer whom I regret not fucking seize my mind on the very day I have been invited to watch her father try to take down one of my rival mafia families. Classic!
“I can arrange for you to meet with Don Salvatore if you would like to skip the court meeting instead. We still have that armi da fuoco (firearms) deal, which, when sealed, can give us a five percent increase in our general profit.” He taps his phone briefly, checking what I assume to be my schedule for the day.
If there’s anything I like about my second-in-command, it’s his ability to make swift decisions. Five years ago, I made the decision to recruit him into the mafia, and not once have I regretted it. He’s helped me in establishing legal businesses and rebuilding the mafia.
Holding his gaze, I say, “Preparati (Get ready). I want to be at the courtroom on time.”
Cortez knows he’s dismissed, so he rises, does his little bow thing again, and walks out. My eyes trace his steps until he’s out of the door, and I push all thoughts of the lawyer woman to a corner of my mind.
It’s impossible to forget. This is my reality, a powerful mafia don who has subordinates to lead…a mafia to run, and a name to keep. I will never be caught off guard by anyone, let alone some silly lawyer, because women are nothing but weaknesses —that’s my principle—and I don’t plan on having that again.
When Cortez knocks on the door again, I grab my silver-colored suit jacket, take another glance at my reflection in the mirror, and then swagger my way out.
***
It’s barely twenty minutes to the scheduled court session, yet my feet keep tapping endlessly against the foot mat of my car.
I could’ve said no when she invited me to come. After all, I don’t belong in a courthouse, not on the free side of it, anyway. But I said yes. I’m not just here for her. I’m here because I need to be.
Law enforcement is changing, with fresh faces stepping in, eager to prove themselves. Some of whom are ambitious, others are desperate. I need to identify both groups.
In there, I’ll sit quietly, watching, analyzing. Who looks comfortable in their three-piece suit, and who keeps adjusting their cheap tie? Who walks with the confidence of old money, and who carries the weight of a mortgage on their shoulders? The rich ones have pride and are harder to buy, but they can be swayed by the promise of power. The struggling ones? They’ll take a hand if it reaches out at the right moment.
I’ll memorize every face, every tick, filing them away for later. No one in that room would ever suspect they’re being read like an open book.
Aria thinks I’m here because of her, and in a way, I am. But I’m also laying the groundwork, mapping out the players on my game board before they even know they’re part of it.
It’s the same reason why I had accepted the Chief of Police’s invitation to Karl Abruzzi’s promotion party. I wanted to meet the cop that has been going after the mafias recently. Being meticulous requires me to stay on top of every single occurrence in and out of the mafia family.
Now I want to know what Karl has against Don Giovanni, my rival, and one of the men I loathe.
“Karl Abruzzi,” I start, and Cortez’s head snaps away from the window which he has been gazing intently out of, “What does he have against Giovanni?”
“ L’Abruzzi severo e duro (The strict and tough Abruzzi),” Elio comments. “You see, Don Giovanni did some serious ‘clean up’ in Paris. Killed all those high ranking government officials he was working with to allow safe passage of his drugs into the country when they suddenly bailed on him.”
It isn’t uncommon for government officials to bail even when they’re on your payroll. Although only a fool wouldn’t have noticed the signs. Still, I don’t understand what that has to do with Abruzzi.
“So what does that have to do with this Abruzzi guy?”
“The government officials ratted Giovanni out before he killed them to clear their names when things went south, so Giovanni became wanted. As a result of that, he came down here to New York but didn’t lie low. The ruckus some of his men caused at the border a couple of months back raised all the settling dust. I mean, they killed those officials at the shipping port as well, hence our man, Abruzzi.”
Now that’s some serious shit. Don Giovanni is at least five years older than I am. He has been running his mafia for almost as long as I have, but I don’t believe I would have been as foolish as him, running away from a city where I had caused trouble straight into another round of trouble in the next city.
I scoff, “That man, Giovanni, era su una corda tesa (he was on a tightrope), and he didn’t even know it.”
I let out a whoosh of breath from my mouth and close my eyes. So this Abruzzi guy played messiah, arrested the societal menace, and got a promotion. Admittedly, he’s one of the few cops that actually do capture bad guys, such as Giovanni. Oh, and he’s also the father of the gorgeous little lawyer girl I almost fucked.
My teeth clench together as I realize I have to take immediate action. I have to find a way to curtail this Abruzzi guy—he won’t stop at getting just the Giovanni-led mafia—and his fucking hot daughter along with him.
I readjust my tie and slide my sunglasses behind my ears as my Bentley Flying Spur V8 comes to a halt before the courthouse. Cortez gets out and holds the door open for me.
The minute I’m out of the car, I look up ahead of me to note the entrance of the courthouse, then accidentally lock gazes with her.
She’s looking as ravishing as the last time I saw her.
My eyes roam her body, lingering at the small ‘v’ in the center of her pretty pair of black dress pants, accentuated with pumps, and the mild swellings at her chest. I suck in a sharp breath as memories of her pink nipples come back to me…and the fact that she didn’t let me fuck her!
Her jet black hair, which I had yanked on while plunging my tongue into her mouth, was packed into a simple but helplessly attractive bun, and her eyes… those endless seas of golden brown were staring right back at me.
Despite the chiding I gave myself only a few minutes ago, my mind is starting to play tricks on me again. Fuck, if any other man tried to have her after I was only a hair’s breadth away from pounding her …
But I’m determined to stick to my principles. I begin my walk in her direction ?she’s standing at the door to the courthouse.
“I see you made it,” she comments when I reach her, her tone dry.
I’m expecting her to dip her eyes and flush with embarrassment after our little meeting at the FBI headquarters, but if there’s anything I see she’s feeling right now, it’s resentment. It’s clear in her eyes and in the way she’s folded her arms tightly across her chest.
“Look, whatever happ?” She shifts her weight on her foot and starts again. I hear something about how she won’t say anything about what she heard the other day, but I don’t give her a chance. Arching a brow at her monotonously, I dip the corners of my lips and walk past her without saying so much as a word.
I can feel those perfectly lined eyes boring holes into my back, and my cock pushing painfully against my pants in response, but no matter how my body reacts and how much I think I want to part those legs and slither in between them, I will never go back on my principle.
Besides, this woman is the definition of trouble. She’s spied on me twice now, having highly classified mafia conversations. I still can’t believe I had fucking slipped for the second time around her. And in the hallway of a law enforcement agency, among all places!
I had heard the clinking of footsteps in the hallway that day, but I didn't fully register it until a beat too late. Her widened eyes and stuttering speech told me, this time, she had heard enough to know my true identity, although I doubt she could possibly do much without any evidence. But that’s not the real pain in my ass. The problem is that despite her knowledge of such sensitive information, I can’t bring myself to eliminate her. All I want is to fuck her senseless. Damn .
A rumble stirs in my depths, more of a growl than the intended chuckle, as I turn around to give her another cursory gaze.
I need to be painfully aware of her until I figure out how to deal with her. I have to work on covering up all loose ends, like Aria Abruzzi, while not getting distracted.
Especially not by her inexperienced pussy…