Escaping The Mafia Boss

Chapter 13

Arosio De Luca

Murder.

The only thought running through my mind for the past several hours while I clenched and unclenched my jaw at the pathetic yet still powerful man seated across from me.

If it were up to me, I would have stayed home all day and kept my eyes on my fiery cucciola to make sure that she isn't up to anything. Her drunken words from last night about leaving me at midnight kept replaying in my mind, adding to the fuel of anger that has slowly been building up.

But of course, this bastard refused to reschedule the meeting in his Bairut hotel located in Los Angeles, which is about an hour drive from my childhood mansion. Glancing at my phone, I noticed that there is only about two hours till dinner time at my place and I do not want to miss it.

"Fanculo. Ne ho abbastanza di questa merda, sign the fucking papers Slate," I yelled before standing up and pulling out my gun. Alejandro and Giovanni almost spit out their vodka when they saw me aiming my gun at the infamous Canadian Mafia boss. (Fuck this, I've had enough of this shit.)

The fucking asshole didn't even react, he simply remained staring at his MacBook while his older brother, Lucas, stood up in front of him as if to shield him away from my gun. I let a sinister smile take over as the thought of killing both Moretti brothers seemed quite tempting at the moment.

"Stop it, Aro. Can't you see the man's heartbroken?" the humanist, Alejandro stated as he pointed towards the unfazed Canadian Mafia boss. I was literally aiming a gun at him but he didn't even flinch nor look up from his computer.

Striding forward, I tore the laptop away from his hands and looked at the screen. The image made my brows instantly furrow in confusion. This fucking asshole has been staring at some babies sonogram this whole time? Why is that picture even the screensaver background on his laptop?

"De Luca, I will skin you alive if you don't fucking hand over my laptop right now," Slate threatened before I scoffed and sent him an irritated look. Oh so he finally speaks!

Throwing the laptop back at him, I returned to my seat and signaled Giovanni to hand him the papers. As soon as he signs, I will be out of here and home to my precious princess. The only reason it has taken so long is because Slate keeps finding faults with the deal, resulting in my men printing out a new document, only for him to find another fault with it.

"Sign it and then go fucking sob about your bitch afterwards," I seethed in anger after Giovanni had hesitantly handed the papers over to him and returned to my side.

Within seconds, the dazed man had stood up and pulled out his own gun which was now pressed against my forehead. He did it so fast that none of my men were even able to react in time. I remained calm and simply rose a brow at him, knowing that he wouldn't be able to shoot me. Our fathers had worked together in order to fight the Russian Mafia many years ago, we had a sort of peace treaty between the Italian Mafia and Canadian Mafia now.

"Don't you fucking dare address my wife like that or else I won't hesitate to kill you in the most painful way," Slate bellowed out before he tore the gun away from my forehead and shot one of my men dead instead. The whole room fell into an awkward silence before I leisurely signaled two of my guards to take care of the dead body.

I felt bad for the poor guy who got stuck in between the crossfire but I understood. Slate, much like any Mafia Boss, has a lot of rage and lack of self-control inside him. He needed to kill to prove his words but he knew he couldn't lay a finger on me so he killed one of my men to get back at me. Too bad he thought I would actually give a fuck but I don't.