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Amren Valentino

After a much needed shower, getting rid of all the sticky blood, I watched the water turn crimson red wash away to the drain.
I got back home to inform my father of my new discovery.

I make my way to his office, knocking twice before entering.
I come to find him cooped up behind his desk, papers scattered messily all around him while he worked. A scowl was set on his aging face, a frown digging deep at the lines of his mouth.

I take a seat at the leather chair in front of him. "Figured out who sent Alberto" I say.

"Who?" He asks without lifting his eyes from whatever is scribbled on that paper he had clutched tightly in his hands like it's about to dissipate in thin air if not.

"The Russians" I say and that seems to have piqued his interest. He sets the papers aside, lifting his eyes to meet mine while leaning back in his chair.

I smirk inwardly, this grabbed his attention, or rather his curiosity as he ran a hand in his greying hair atop his head.

"Don't kid me boy, we have a treaty with the Russians, why would they risk breaking it?" He asks more to himself, as if trying to weigh the possibility of that happening.

"I don't know. Alberto only confessed that it was the Russians who sent him, he wouldn't give up more. Anyway, now he's dead so there's not much we could do about it" I answer him in all honesty and it seems like the frown itched deeper into his face, if possible.

He raked his hand back and forth, trying to guess their play.
"Was there any traces back to the Russians from Alberto's movements?" He inquires deep in thought.

"No. The investigators couldn't trace him back to them" I reply.

"I see" Is all he says while continuing with his piled work, a sign of dismissing me from this father-son get together.

Since I was seven years old, the first time I held a gun, I always wanted to become the boss. I wanted the world at my feet.
To sit behind a table and call all the shots. I always wanted to take a magnifying glass and get inside my dad's head to dissect his thought process.

For instance, what was he thinking now? Could Alberto be lying? Did the Russians not send him? Maybe, he panicked and said the first name that was on his mind.

Unfortunately, the man himself was now six feet under, and even if he wasn't, he'd still be missing a tongue to tell us the truth.

Getting out, I walk into the kitchen noticing Luca seated on a barstool, munching on a burger with some fries. I grab a handful and shove them into my mouth earning a groan from him. I snicker and continue all the way to the sink, filling myself a cold glass of water to erase all the agitation and lack of sleep I've been feeling.

Try going to sleep at 2:30 a.m and waking up at 5 o'clock each morning to workout and then handle business. This shit takes a toll on you. I'm always sleep deprived, head pounding, temples aching and to be frank, the world does spin sometimes.

Sighing, I take a deep breath in, it's not long before a phone ring is interrupting these minuscule moments of peace.

Upon seeing the caller ID, I frown. I was just with my father a few moments ago, what could he possibly want now?

"Yes father?" I answer into the device.

"I just got us a meeting with both the Russians and the Spanish families. Agreed to a neutral place. Weapon free. Prepare" He barks his order and cuts the call off.

If my head pounded, it was now racing a million miles per hour. Of course, whenever mafias agree to a friendly meeting, the outcome is never pretty.
Almost, everyone ends up dying or severely shot, almost.

Now I need to check the place, to learn the blueprints by heart, securing all exit points. Investigating all powerful figures showing up. Hiding snipers at vantage points, in case things go south.

It never not goes south.

Upon hanging up the phone, Luca turns to me "What was that?" He asks.

I pocket my phone and comb a hand through my hair frustratedly.

"Father just secured a meeting with both the Russians and Spanish" I revealed to him.

His eyes widen with surprise, nowadays, it was rare to come to an understanding like civilized people living in a modern society.

Everyone is blinded by rage and vengeance to overlook beyond the closer picture.

"You know there's no way that could end well" He says sharing a knowing look.

"I got a feeling it won't. That's why we need to prepare. Tell everyone to meet in the training area in 20" I tell him while coming up with different strategies for various situations if needed be.

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A/N:

Things are escalating, then boom!

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