The Mafia Contract Series

ALESSANDRO

We travel to the city in convoy. The usual black cars with tinted windows, armed and deadly to anyone who crosses our path. Passing cops look the other way and even the traffic lights change to let us through. The mafia is in town and God help anyone who stands in our way.

As my grandfather’s successor, I travel in the car three back from his. My own consigliere is seated beside the driver in front, allowing me some much-needed time on my own.

Taking the opportunity, I pull out my phone and check in with the boss.

“Angelo.”

His deep voice offers me comfort, but I detect a note of anxiety as he says quickly, “Is the plan in motion?”

“We’re on our way. Are you ready?”

“We’re all in position.”

He falters and I know if I’m emotional, Angelo must be ten times worse because Winter is not just his sister, she’s his twin. Part of the same embryo and as close as two people can be and he says gruffly, “I’m relying on you, Beast.”

He reminds me who I am, and I growl, “I won’t let you down.”

After a moment’s silence, I say urgently, “What about The Savage?”Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

“In position.”

“And The Angel?”

“Running the business operation.”

“The Demon?”

“Monitoring the situation and organizing the troops.”

“Then it’s happening.”

So many years of planning have led to this point, and Angelo obviously feels it too as he says in a softer tone, “Good luck, my friend. I know you will bring her back to me.”

He cuts the call, probably because emotion was getting in the way and neither of us needs that right now.

As I settle back in my seat, I think about my friends all playing their parts in bringing Winter home. Ever since our days at Rockwell Academy we have been planning this. Initially, the plan was to escape our hated fathers and carve out our own path in life. Then Winter was stolen, and it became much more.

Angelo was the first to kill his father and take control of the Sontauro family. Then Flynn married Louisa and earned the support of her father and godfather, the Columbian drugs baron Pedro Carlos.

Then Ivan kidnapped Charlotte, Massimo’s stolen daughter, supplying us with the secret weapon to bring him down.

Angelo is on his way to Massimo’s home. Flynn is covering his businesses and every home and asset Massimo owns is about to be taken from him with the help of several families who have pledged their allegiance to us.

Ivan and Charlotte have a special job to do and, along with my grandfather, I’m the one responsible for taking the man himself out.

I am trying so hard not to think of Winter. So many times I have imagined seeing her again. Has she changed? Will she still be the woman I’ve held tenderly in my mind? I remember her soft body against mine and the way her eyes lit up when she saw me. The taste of her and the pleasure of tearing through her virginity and discovering a place I was immediately at home. I fell in love with Winter long before I claimed her greatest gift. That just reinforced the fact we were meant to be together. How will I react when she walks into Scarpetta? I can’t let emotion control me today. My grandfather was right about that because it could blow this whole plan apart.

As my grandfather’s car cuts free from ours and is flanked by one before and after it, my own is escorted to Scarpetta to take our places for the show.

We have worked tirelessly going over the plans a hundred times over, allowing for any eventuality and yet I can’t shake the anxiety from clouding my mind. It must work, failure is not an option and as we stop outside the restaurant, Tommaso, my consigliere, wrenches open the door and says coolly, “Sir.”

I merely nod and step outside into the sunshine, looking a strange sight dressed all in black, my dark hair scraped back into a ponytail and the matching silk shirt and tie in place, looking so wrong against the heat of the day.

My men keep watch as I make my way inside and I am met by the maitre d who looks as if he would prefer to have called in sick rather than face this horror show.

“Mr. Majerio. We are honored.”

He almost bows as I glare at him and snap. “Is my table as instructed?”

He nods and grabs a menu, scurrying before me, saying, “Of course, please follow me.”

As I walk through the restaurant, a hush falls on the room courtesy of the curiosity thrown my way by the other diners. As I take my seat behind a pillar with a view to the last remaining table, I note the atmosphere and my heart sinks. Fucking mafia. Each and every one. No wonder the maitre d looks as if he’s about to win a trip to the emergency room.

The terror lingers in the air as every table is filled with men. All in black suits making it appear as if we’re extras for the latest Godfather movie.

I don’t miss the curious stares and guarded expressions of the men as they look my way. They know who I am-what I am, and I wonder what is running through their minds right now. Hell, I’m trying not to think of what’s running through my own mind and so I settle back and snap, “Whiskey, make it a double.”

I can almost sense my grandfather’s disapproval from here and he’s not even made it into the room yet. Fuck a clear head, anyway. I work better with a little Dutch courage inside me.

The clock on the wall reveals we have twenty minutes until showtime and so I settle back and prime myself for a war-a mafia war and this time the stakes are high.