5. Elio
Chapter five
Elio
While reviewing a few of the documents related to an upcoming shipment, I hear a knock on the door. Cortez walks in, his brown eyes dipped in reverence but his broad shoulders square and his stance upright.
“Boss.” He stops in front of the table, sliding a brown envelope towards me.
“The job has been done. Quello che Victor Morello ha dovuto pagare per saldare il suo debito (Victor Morello has been made to pay his debt).” His eyes meet with mine briefly as he gestures towards the envelope he walked in with, “That’s confirmation.”
My lips curl in a content smile as my fingers flip from one glossy paper to the other, staring at Victor’s traitorous face with his white eyes gazing blankly at me and a well-rounded bullet hole in the center of his forehead.
Cortez is the most competent man in my family, so I hand exclusive cases like Victor Morello to him to avoid any mistakes.
“Good. Occupati del corpo (Take care of the body), I don’t want any DNA, fingerprints, or anything else that could lead back to us in the future.”
“All of that has been taken care of, Capo (Boss).”
My head bobs up and down in approval. “You’ve done well.”
“But…”
“But?” My brows quirk in question when his voice falters.
“We have a problem. One of our warehouses has been compromised.”
There is news I hate hearing, and this is one of them.
With a savage swipe of my hand, I send all the documents on my mahogany desk flying into a chaotic cloud around me.
“And why the fuck is that?” I hiss loudly, releasing only a fraction of the pent up rage gnawing at my insides.
“The cops raided it in the early hours of this morning. A whistleblower informed them of the contents of the warehouse…” He doesn’t get the chance to finish his statement when my phone rings.
It’s my informant in the force. The fucking bastard on my payroll that should have done his job.
“Why the fuck are your guys trespassing?” I seethe, clenching the phone tightly so that it feels like it might snap.
“Mr. Donatelli, an anonymous whistleblower contacted the office this morning, informing us that your warehouse contains drugs, cash, and ammunition,” the grave voice of the police officer at the other end of the phone says into my ears. “This is beyond my capacity as it was direct information. I’m truly sorry.”
“Fuck!” My nostrils flare as a fresh wave of anger surges through my body. I fist my hands until my knuckles start to turn white.
He breathes, seeming to hesitate for a moment before he continues. “They found stacks of cash, wraps of drugs, and stacks of ammo…it doesn’t look good, Boss.”
Of course, it doesn’t. This could lead to a fucking grand exposé about my mafia, and my supposedly clean businesses will automatically start being questioned.
If this ever gets out, it’ll reveal that I’m not the biggest business tycoon in New York, but rather the face behind the terrifying title of Capo dei Capi (Boss of the mafia bosses).
And because of whoever the motherfucking whistleblower is, it’s only a matter of time before it turns into a full-blown case and the world hears about it. That can’t fucking happen.
“Who is this bastard informant, and how did he know the exact warehouse that held that stuff?”
“I don’t know yet. His identity hasn’t been revealed even to me. But I’ll keep working on fi–”
His words are doing nothing to ease my rage, so I kill the call and drive my free fist into a nearby wall.
“I’ll have our men in the force and the legal team on it immediately, Capo …” Cortez starts. “I’m also going to contact the Guardiano (Guardian) so he ensures nothing of such nature goes to the media…”
I drown out his words, staring angrily at the bloodied wall. My knuckles are burning, but it’s nothing compared to what I feel inside.
It’ll take our legal team time to come up with something tangible, especially with limited information, and I cannot afford any drag with this issue.
I inhale deeply, digging a hand through my hair, when an idea slowly forms in my head.
I turn to Cortez, who’s typing rapidly on his phone. I’m sure he’s summoning the legal team already. “Call the lawyer girl. Set up a meeting with her. It’s time to strike a deal.”
Since Aria Abruzzi appears to be obsessed with maneuvering herself into my world, I will grant her wish.
***
“ Siamo qui, signore (We’re here, sir).”
I pull the lapels of my suit jacket tighter around my frame, slide my sunglasses behind my ears, and walk out of the car.
I have no idea how that treacherous little girl will react to the proposition I have for her, but after discovering from the local news that her father was absent from court that day because he was apparently involved in an accident, I assume she’ll be ready to do anything to protect her old man. It’s the only way or, at least, the most guaranteed way, she can keep herself and her father safe.
Now, here I am about to offer her a deal if she ?and her father? want to stay safe.
Soft lighting illuminates the elegant dining room of the restaurant I reserved for this meeting ?one of the many restaurants I own. The circular dining tables are adorned with crisp linens and fine China with a soft golden lamp in the center.
I can spot her already, as I made sure there would be no one else to infringe on our privacy. She is seated in the farthest corner of the room, her legs crossed on top of each other.
I can’t help but admire her silky, creamy thighs that show from her ridden-up skirt. When she hears the sound of my shoes on the polished wood, she relaxes her tensed shoulders and pretends to lift a coffee mug to her lips.
“You’re late,” she jabs at me the minute I’m close enough. That irritates me, but on closer look, I see that beneath her tough…resistant facade, there’s a hint of fear she’s trying unsuccessfully to hide. Good .
“I have a proposition for you, so listen carefully,” I start, my eyes settling on her face to caution my thoughts as I sit opposite her. “It g—”
“Were you behind my father’s accident?” Her eyes are shooting lasers into mine, and her lips are set in a scowl that seems permanent. For a moment, I wonder what she’s trying to do. If she’s genuinely angry or trying to intimidate me. Either way, it’s funny, but I don’t laugh.
My brows furrow deeply as I study her. Deciding I’m not in the mood for shenanigans, I answer. “No. I didn’t know he was in an accident until I saw the news this morning. If anything, I highly anticipated seeing him in court and kept wondering why the prosecution had to proceed with the case without him.”
“And why should I believe you?” she asks, fisting her hand on the table. I almost chuckle at her meager attempt at being imposing.
“I don’t care what you believe. I’m a highly respected businessman, darling. Good luck convincing them otherwise.”
She rolls her eyes, then purses her lips and raises a brow.
Even with all of that attitude, I want to lick whatever flavor of lipstick has those sexy lips in a sinful shade of pink.
Clearing my throat, I continue. “I want to solve my problems and… yours—”
“I don’t have any problems,” she interrupts dryly, folding her arms below her breasts.
My eyes are trained for a moment on the full, creamy flesh peeking out of her cleavage, and my hands itch to knead them. I tighten my jaw. Barely three minutes of conversation, and she’s already fucking driving me crazy. I hate that she’s having this effect on me.
“With a single strike...” I continue, daring her to interrupt me again with a tense gaze. She matches my gaze and, yet again, does interrupt.
“It would be best for both of us if you get to the point already.”
Too fucking stubborn.
A smirk tugs my lips as I lean forward. “Marry me.”
Her brows crease until they nearly meet in the center of her face. She looks like she’s about to punch me in the face but maintains composure.
“No, thanks. Already applied to become a nun.”
“We were two seconds away from having sex,” I smirk.
She shrugs. “Jesus forgives.”
“Don’t test me now.”
“Look, why don’t we both go our separate ways. I’ll forget whatever I heard, and you leave me the fuck alone,” she smiles, a forced tight-lipped one that gets on my nerves. “So...” she proceeds to stand, grabbing her purse. “This meeting is over…”
“Sit the fuck down, Aria Abruzzi...” I growl.
“Don’t you dare tell me what to do!” she yells, pointing her purse towards me, hands trembling with rage.
The anger in me is raging like a storm. Her audacity! And I hate how my eyes keep falling to her jiggling breasts. I’m tempted to bend her over my knees and spank her ass until it holds my red hand imprints.
“Your father’s life is at risk, and so is yours. I’m sure you know that.” Her gaze narrows on me as I take out a cigarette from my jacket’s inside breast pocket and have it lit within seconds, dragging a puff that holds my sanity.
“I, in turn, need intel on someone who is trying to expose my family and, in the process, ruin my business. Plus any other information that’d be useful in the long run. If you marry me, I can offer you protection in return for working for me.”
She scoffs, then retorts sarcastically, “Why don’t you go to the FBI…oh I forgot, you’re a criminal.”
“Shut the fuck up and listen to me!” My heart races as I slam my fist against the table. The nerve she has!
Briefcase in hand, I stand up slowly, trying hard not to crash my lips on her smart mouth. “If we make this deal, I can protect you and your dad. You work for me and round up the motherfucker who is trying to screw me...”
“And why would I deal with you? For all I know, it could be a trap to kill me.” She bites her lips, and I clench my fist.
“If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.”
“Well, screw you, Elio Donatelli, because I will never become your wife.” And with that, she sashays away angrily, her flair skirt bouncing along with her ass.
Fuck. Is she even wearing underwear?