Omertà ✔️

c h a p t e r - o n e

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Lucca's POV.

"How much longer is he going to be? I'm freezing my fucking balls off."

I ignore the complaints of Marcello and twirl my gun in my hands. I'm leant against the wall, bored and completely disinterested. I have a party to go to. I have better places to be than an abandoned warehouse downtown.

The headlights of a car swing by, momentarily illuminating the open door of the building.

"Thank fuck for that," Marcello mutters.

The engine cuts out and doors slam. My consigliere and right hand man, Rocco, drags the wriggling body of a man towards us with Valerius. They throw him down on the ground and he hurriedly scrambles to his knees. He's beaten and bloody, but I'm just irritated he's still alive.

"Why is this fucker still breathing?" I demand to know.

"Thought you'd want to do the honours, Boss," Rocco says with a shrug.

"Leccaculo," Marcello calls Rocco a kiss ass.

Rocco glares at him. "Fottiti."

Fuck you.

"Baciami il culo," Marcello retorts.

Kiss my ass.

I groan and push off the wall. "Puttana Madonna, you're both fucking coglioni."

Fucking mother of God.

(Literally translates to testicles but means idiots).

They were supposed to come and collect me after disposing of this brutto figlio di puttana.

Ugly son of a bitch.

Marcello and I have been sorting out some business with a local dealer and these idiots were meant to have been here half an hour ago. I dislike tardiness. I cock my gun and shoot the bastard between the eyes before he can even beg for his life. I hate begging, too.

"Dispose of him. I'm taking the car; you're going to have to get another ride. I've got a party to get to and I'm late," I tell the boys, glaring pointedly.

I storm out of the building. Marcello and Valerius stay to take care of the body, Rocco jogs ahead to get in the driver's seat. I get into the car and wipe down my gun. I check my suit, making sure it still looks immaculate. Presentation means a lot to me.

"Thanks, I needed it," I tell Rocco and roll out my neck.

Nothing like a quick execution before a celebration. I need a drink, now.

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Illaria's POV.

"Holy fucking shitballs, how much money does your family have?" I blurt out at the sight of the huge, carved stone lions lining the pathway.

Georgina rolls her eyes and sighs dramatically. "Stop gawking, you knew I was rich when you became friends with me," she protests, and I scoff.

"Not this rich. Seriously, this is insane."

How many stone lions does a person need?

I snap my mouth closed to stop it from hanging open. The party has already started in the nightclub owned by Georgina's parents, we're actually a little late. I don't think you can even call it a nightclub. I've never known of a club having a driveway before. It's more like a mansion.