Repaying the Mafia’s Dept

Massimo

I’m on my way to see Andreas and about ten minutes away from his place.

I tear down the road on my motorcycle, riding way past the speed limit. I need the speed and the feel of that edge of danger racing through my veins to clear my mind.

I’ve been opting for my car over my bike over the last few weeks. No particular reason. I just like it. The same way I felt like riding the Ninja X2 bike today.

I think I needed that buzz to take my mind off everything.

It’s been four days. Exactly four days since Emelia has been in my care, and the woman is growing on me. I know well enough not to divulge too much information to her that won’t matter.

Part of me thinks it matters, though, because I want her to hate her father the same way I do. I want her to see him for the devil he is.

Sometimes I still feel the press of his gun against my temple. My mind tracks back to the day of my mother’s funeral, and I’m that twelve-year-old boy again, unable to do shit to Riccardo to defend myself. I hate that prick so much. The thought of Emelia thinking the sun shines from his ass makes me sick.

At the same time, she’s dirty by association to him. She’s his daughter. It’s enough for me to destroy them both. It’s enough for me to want to cut them down like grass. His empire and his precious daughter.

If only I didn’t want her.

Four days, and this is me.

Last night, when I mentioned the charity ball and watched confusion settle onto her pretty face, I felt sorry for her. Sorry for her and more disgusted at Riccardo for taking her to something like that. The Syndicate is a band of powerful men. They have a shit load of money. When you have money like that, it comes with certain privileges. Dark, arcane powers that normal people would never have access to, or ever conceive.

The charity ball is an example of that. Dressed to look like a fundraising event where members of the associated companies can indeed raise money for their sponsored charities, it also masks other activities. Things people class as dark and label the Syndicate as such.

Activities like auctions of virgins and the sale of young women are just some examples. Take your nineteen-year-old daughter to an event like that and dress her in black, and that opens the floor for bidding. While the Syndicate provides the facilities for darker tastes like that, they don’t monitor it. So, Ricardo could have dealt with anyone.Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

Emelia was like a lamb led to the slaughterhouse. Unknowing why she was really there and probably thinking it was some privilege. Innocent. She shouldn’t have been a part of that.

I woke this morning with her still pressed up against me. Naked and perfect. My cock is still hard from the memory of her. My heart still warmed from the way her fingers fluttered over my chest as she curled into me, her hair sprawled out on the pillow, like we’d spent the night having wild sex.

I was being serious when I said I was curious about her too. I shared a secret I shouldn’t have by telling her that.

For things to go the way I want, I can’t under any circumstances show emotion. This whole ordeal is a war between families that started years ago. The moment her father thought he could steal from mine and try to ruin his life.

The thing is, doing all this won’t change the past. Not a damn bit. It won’t do shit. It won’t bring my mother back. I know deep in my heart that my father’s life was ruined the moment he knew my mother killed herself.

Riccardo is the enemy, and so is Emelia. I can’t allow myself to feel for her.

I park on Andreas’ drive and get off my motorcycle. This visit was a long time coming. I should have made it already. Things are not okay between us. I can feel it, and I can’t allow the shit to continue if I want to be the kind of boss I hope to be.

Setting my helmet on the handle, I make my way past his convertible, which is open. Inside I notice a pair of panties.

He lives in a condo. He has the smallest house of all of us because he’s never in. When he’s not working at D’Agostinos, he’s sailing. At least we share that similarity with our love for anything to do with the water.

I walk up the steps to the door and notice that it’s open. It’s fucking nine in the morning, and he’s got his car and door open without a guard in sight.

Given the circumstances, I feel for my piece in my back holster.

It’s not like him to be so sloppy.

I make my way upstairs to his bedroom and instantly regret opening the door the moment I do.

In his bed are two naked women, fast asleep on top of the covers. Standing beside them is Andreas, getting a blow job from a naked blond woman.

“Fuck!” He winces when he sees me. I back away, closing the door.

Shit. I’m already in his bad books. Fuck, do I know how to make a situation worse than it is.

I walk into the kitchen and stand by the door, noticing bottles of wine and other bottles of liquor. Empty and full.

He comes in minutes later wearing a pair of joggers and one of his old college T-shirts.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize.

“Don’t mention it,” he replies and looks over the mess in the kitchen.

“What’s going on?” he asks.

“Came to see if you were alright.”

He chuckles. “I’m fine, brother. As you can see, I’m living my best life. Two women in my bed and another sucking my dick. What could be better than that?”

It’s like watching someone who strived for excellence fall in shit. “It’s not like you to spend the night with whores.”

“Don’t you have a whorehouse?” He raises a brow.

I bite the inside of my lip. “That’s different.”

“How? Massimo, please, whores are a natural part of the package. We all have them. You have them in abundance. And I know this marriage shit isn’t just going to suddenly change you overnight. You’re not wired that way. So, that aside. I’m sure there was a purpose for your visit, Boss.” The corner of his lips curl and his eyes darken.

“Andreas…” I start, but I don’t know what to say to him.

Sorry Pa chose me above you? Sorry I chose Tristan to be part of the syndicate, not you?

He must be pissed as fuck.

“What? Massimo, what? You know as well as I do that there’s nothing to say. It is what it is. No more, no less. Pa chose who he wants to take the lead, and you chose who you want to support you. It is what it is,” he says with a nod.

“You aren’t okay with it,” I state, cutting to the chase.

He chuckles. “Brother, I have to be okay with it.”

“I want you on board, Andreas.”

He reaches out a hand and holds my shoulder. “You are my brother. I will back you in whatever you do. That’s all you need to know. Doesn’t matter if I look like shit and act like shit. I’m just… licking my wounds. You’d do the same if you were me. And I’d be in your shoes. Going to your place to sort you out.”

He releases his grip on me.

“I just want to know you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. I guess sometimes I get stuck in tradition. The oldest son usually gets to be boss. But hey, if Pa were traditional, maybe the right person would never get chosen.” He gives me a curt nod.

I won’t say anything against Pa. He’s a fair man and my fucking idol. I don’t care if I sound like a pussy thinking that, but it’s true. The man laid the cards on the table and gave his four sons a chance to shine. That’s what he did. I won the leadership fair and square.

I just hope it hasn’t cost me my older brother.

“I need you to take care of business at D’Agostinos,” I say to him.

We never got to go over what I’d talked to the others about because we went on the streets to look into Pierbo’s death. The most I got to tell him was that I was splitting the business four ways. That was all.

Andreas is a man like me though-he doesn’t care about money. He cares about power.

“And I will. You can trust me. I’m proud of you, kid.” The light comes returns to his eyes.

I ball my fist to bump his. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

He nods and gives me the first real smile he’s given me since Pa announced I’d be taking over. “She’d be proud too. Ma. I know she would. You’re like him. More than me.” He chuckles. “Now, get the fuck out of here. I need to get back to my women.”

I smirk. “Okay. See you later.”

He tips his head, and I make my way out. I understand him and understand where he’s coming from. The only guy who worked as hard as I did for the position was him. I’d feel like shit too if I didn’t get it.