Vicenzo Ferrari Hernandez is a devilishly handsome mafia King. Despite being cold hearted and beyond cruel, he has fallen in love with the woman of his dreams.
But can he hold on to her? Or will he lose her because the threats he faces all come wit...
TRIGGER WARNINGS: EXPLICIT LANGUAGE SWEARING VIOLENCE
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Fourteen clouds had passed by the large spotlessly clean windows in the last ten minutes. I've also had another refill of steaming hot coffee, black, although I've left it to cool down. The clock has been ticking by slowly, too slowly, I wondered if perhaps the batteries were worn and sluggish.
From my seat, I glanced in pure and utter boredom at my men whist they rambled on about business affairs. Business was going good. No one was messing with me, no one dared. If this is what power felt like, I wanted to keep it. The office, the ten men and I sat in was large and long, the walls being painted a drab grey, the carpet being worn, also in pebble grey. At least through the windows I could see most of Italy. Home. And it was beautiful.
Below, I could faintly see people scurrying off to work, children happy and screaming in delight as they were being led to school by their moms and men picking up dropped litter amongst the streets. Here Italy was full of tall towers and businesses. It looked like any other part of the developing world. Grey but so full of life.
I missed seeing the little red bricked homes in rural Italy. Missed the little streams of springs running through mossy green hills. I've taken Lira to a little cottage, just to spend some time together. We had fished, made a campfire and toasted marshmallows. That was nearly a week ago. Since then, I've been busy. Business was good but some things I needed to take care off such as my investments.
"Sicily is getting expensive. The docks are demanding more payments." One of my men spoke, pushing up his glasses on the bridge of his nose. I leaned back in my seat and folded my arms across my chest. "We need Sicily. Make the payments." I stared across at the window. Those clouds now seemed grey, as if they were ladened heavily with rainwater. They swam across the sky, blocking out the little sunlight, making the impending rain known.
"It's too much money. We pay three million euros a year for everyone at the docks to turn their backs. The cost guards, the cargo loaders. They're squeezing us because they know we need control of Sicily and it's docks." The same man spoke.
I hummed and slowly turned his way. He was one of my financial aides, steering me into the right decisions but ultimately it was my word. "I agree. They are taking the piss. Knowing we need the ports. What do they want?" I asked. "Uh well they want four million. Which is to be split between twelve." The man cleared his throat and picked up a pen.
"Pay them. Four million it is." I said without hesitation, watching the man scribble it down. "Then tell them, next year they're getting two. And that's me being generous. Tell them that if they dare think that they own me, they're mistaken because I will not hesitate to kill every man, woman and child dear to them. Their bodies will be gutted and thrown into sewers, leaving them to the rats. Make sure they know that." I said straight faced, never once flinching at the words spilling out of my own mouth.
