The dean is not a particularly distinguished man in his early sixties. Does he know I’m a member of the Micheli family, as in the Family? I don’t know, but I follow him around and listen with polite interest, and for his time, he’ll get a generous donation.
When he asks what I do, I say I’m the CEO of Micheli Enterprises and that our main focus is construction. It’s a long-running joke in my family after the tiny bathroom in mama’s condo cost a fortune and took forever. Let’s just say, you never, ever pay for a job upfront.
I’m not totally lying when I say we’re in construction. We do have our hand in that, but we’re also into guns. By which, I mean that our crews run the streets and the drugs. I can’t be picky because anything I don’t deal with, my competition will. With the euro coming in and the economy hitting the skids, I now have to worry about money . . . and power-hungry factions that encroach on our territory and sales.
The factions I have to watch today are amateurs from other countries and deep seated rivals like ourselves who have been here forever. Most os the drifters are happy to take any opportunity they see if it means they can swipe a few euros, or cameras, off a tourist.
Let’s face facts, I have a huge list of officials,polizia, and others on my payroll. Everyone can be bought or leveraged. Human trafficking is huge, too, although I have a distaste for it myself and forbid my capos from ‘hopping on that bandwagon’, as they say in America.
Back in the day, it would have been the political party factions, terrorists from other countries, and rogue military upstarts looking for high grade explosives and tons of guns. Since then, the list has evolved, and with today’s open borders, gun sales are never going to go down. Hell, one of our country’s largest export sectors is domestically-made weapons.
Even if the dean knew I was the head of the family that’s associated with the mafia, he’d be a fool to not take my money. Everyone knows that if you treat your mafia friends well, and don’t act stupid, we’re harmless.
Today was just an impromptu visit and by sheer luck I stumble into my mark at the end of the tour. I can’t believe how fortuitous this is, but then again, I’m a very lucky man. Things just fall into place for me at the damnedest times and I never question it for fear I might jinx it.
I wouldn’t have minded coffee with the girls, but they declined, so I’m done here. I skillfully evade the dean’s invitation for lunch and as I leave the courtyard, I glance both ways, checking my surroundings. It’s instinct and survival.
“So,” Riccardo questions me with one word as we make our way to my black Range Rover.
“I actually met her as she was leaving, she and another girl who was with her, Ava was her name.”
“Must be a friend,” Riccardo says as he slips behind the wheel.
“Maybe. Ava’s not Italian, I can tell you that. She dresses like big city, American.” My brows furrow. “When do we meet with Conti?”
I’m anxious to get my plan under way, one way or another. If I need to use the backup plan, well, after meeting Juliet, I’m not opposed to having her to myself for a week.
“I’ll have everything confirmed today. It’s tricky, getting so close to the enemy’s territory.”
“It’s going to be at a trattoria near the Colosseum amongst a million tourists in broad daylight.”
“True.”
“More blood’s been spilled for less,” Riccardo reminds me, and I shrug my shoulders and look out the window as we head to lunch.
While I go inside the restaurant, Riccardo stays outside to talk on his phone and smoke a vape pen, having given up cigarettes yet again. I can always tell the first few days as he’s cranky and irritated at every little thing. Hopefully, the vape isn’t as bad for him.
I order in his absence. I can’t resist the charcuterie board and order one for us to share. The fresh meat and cheese are just what I need to get through the rest of the day and it’s a special treat to drizzle honey on the creamy burrata. I never bother at home. It’s plenty of food for both of us and I order two glasses of red wine to go with it.
No sooner does Riccardo sit, he receives the text he’s been waiting on.
“Tomorrow. We’ll take the jet to Rome. It’s all set.” For a man who’s normally not nervous, he seems on edge.
“What’s up?”
“I’ll be glad when it’s over,” he admits. “We’ll take three more guards with us.”
I nod. I trust him with my life and he’s the expert. I take a bite of the bruschetta and Riccardo dives into the meat.
He knows better than to ask what my plan is, trusting me to fill him in when appropriate. We’ve known each other for years and it’s the way we’ve always worked together.
“I’m more concerned about the girl. That will be . . . laborious.” His grin falls short of a smile. “She was beautiful. Can’t believe that ugly Conti produced that. She must take after her mother.”
“Probably,” I chuckle and take a sip of my red wine, letting it slide down my throat. I’m not in a rush.
“So, Rome tomorrow. I’m not looking forward to rubbing elbows with the tourists on the streets. No doubt the city will be packed.”
“We’ll buffer for you, boss. It’s a quick meet, in and out,” he reassures me as he drinks from his wine glass.