Chapter 13

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Elijah

"I'll be back by tomorrow," I told Alyssa.

She kissed me and I picked up my bag from the floor. She walked me to the door and we kissed again against it. She kept pecking my lips until I finally had the strength to pull away.

"Alright take care," I said and she nodded before I closed the door behind me.

It's about one thirty in the morning, I have thirty minutes to get to the airport and board my jet.

By the time I do so in the next few hours I'm in New York. I go to my house to catch a few hours of sleep after letting Alyssa know that I've landed safely.

By eight in the morning I shower, shave and exfoliate. I put on the best fucking Armani suit that I have which happens to be black and my Italian loafers are so shine I can see my reflection through it.

Guaranteed I didn't know what the fuck I was doing today as I was still young in this business but I planned and I went over everything for months, now it's time to present it.

My favorite guns which were a 9 mm pistol and a m16 were strapped to holsters on both sides of my jacket. My briefcase was ready and so was everything else. I slicked my brown hair back into the fade with gel before strapping a silver patek around my wrist.

The meeting was going to begin at nine so I got in my matte black Lamborghini aventador and sped off.

When I got there I met my brothers and Alessio inside the building.

"Good morning gentleman I hope we've all went over the plan for today," I said.

"Yes we have, they are not going to be happy," Santino said.

"Well it's a good thing that I don't give a fuck what they think then ain't it?"

I looked behind him viewing my surroundings and the many people here. We were treading on thin lines as everyone in this room were enemies. If the wrong things were to be said in this meeting a war could immediately arise.

"Come on let's go take our seats we have five minutes till starting time," I announced.

The last names were at the sections of the table at which we must sit. This room consisted of every crime family syndicate in New York. They planned among themselves boisterously drinking hard liquor like it wasn't morning.

Bruno Migliorini, a retired mobster is the head of these meetings.

"Can I get some fucking order so we can start this shit!" He shouted.

I watched as they scampered to their seats sitting tightly ready for Bruno to start. Carlo de Sanctis smiled at me from across the room creepily. He made me want to gorge his eyes out just for that.

He was an acquaintance of our family since we were kids. His dad and Vincent had friendly rivalry arguing about the smallest things such as who had the most cars.

The mafia was all about who had a bigger dick. Who had the biggest house, the most cars, the most money and the most important was who had the most territories.

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