What the fuck?
I storm into the bedroom and grab her by the arm, “What the fuck are you doing?”
“You are an asshole. I like you, but I can tell you’re just using me.”
“Lia, you’ve been with every man I know that has over a million euro in his bank account. If you think I want more than a quick fuck from you, you’ve overestimated your own importance. Men like me don’t have time for relationships, let alone someone as used as you. You look good now, but what will you look like after five more years of taking cock and doing coke? I’ll give you a cursory answer, you’ll be washed up on harder drugs to fill the hole in your soul. You whore yourself out trying to maintain an unsustainable standard of living. Give it up, get out before it’s too late,” I walk to my dresser, open a door and throw euros on the bed. “That should give you money to get an apartment outside the city.”
She picks up an expensive vase on my dresser and throws it at my head. I wrestle her to the bed, and I find it’s turned me on. Swiping a condom from the nightstand, I tear it open with my teeth, quickly cover my engorged cock and fuck her.
She moans as she pretends to fend me off, but the nails that dig into my back are from the pleasure I give her, and she knows she’s powerless in any attempt to stop me because she wants it to not even caring that she didn’t come.
I shed the condom when I’m done dropping in into the nearest trash container and I’m thankful my housekeeper picks up after me.
I clean up quickly and decide on normal street clothes for the day ahead of me. That car ride idea into the country is looking better and better.
My father isone person I can’t read to my satisfaction. Maybe it’s best I don’t know what he’s thinking. My guess is nothing I do is ever good enough as there is contempt in his eyes that I’ve never understood. I’ll never meet his expectations like my younger brother, Cosimo, who is in medical school. It’s competitive to get in, and fortunately I know people in the right places. I’ve never let on that I had anything to do with his acceptance letter.
My family launders money through our gelato store which is on the only bridge not destroyed in WWII, the Ponte Vecchio. Which is why I told Sal Micheli the truth about my mother working at the gelato store when we met on at the warehouse shortly after Tommaso hired me. It’s smart to stick as close to the truth as possible. It cuts down on the chances of making a mistake that could give me away.
Locals know we’re important in a scary way, and it’s also why we have no competition. It’s not that Papa is above being connected, he’s happy to be married to Mama and helps her because he’s Italian, and she’s the daughter of the number one man in Albania. Not the perfect set up as we like to stick to our own except for making alliances.
Would I be part of a mafia family if I had a choice?
Maybe not. However, I tend to be a night owl, and I like putting puzzles together. I’m good with numbers so that makes me an asset to any business. When it comes to my grandfather and the older generation back in Albania, I’m beloved. I used to go back home every summer as a child. Now, I’m too busy running things with other lieutenants here, and I love living in Italy.
Tensions have been mounting with Argon, who’s out of control with his power. He’s encroaching on the Micheli turf, and it wasn’t sanctioned by our Albanian leaders. He wanted to move more coke and use Sal’s bars, but he wasn’t smart about it. He let his men blatantly do deals in front of Sal, which is disrespectful, and in doing so, puts us on their radar. I don’t want to get in a pissing contest, nor do I want to give another family a reason to escalate this into an all-out war.
I came up with this bright idea that we could move more drugs and guns if we didn’t have to worry about the government looking over our shoulders all the time. What better way to insure our deliveries than to throw the Guardia di Finanza off us and onto someone else?
It doesn’t mean I have to give the Michelis up. But when I get a call that there might be a tail on our drugs and the Michelis’ warehouse is empty it makes a good diversion. I view it as a good business decision. Once I get more of a handle on their operation, I could totally fuck them up from the inside, but for now, I just want to protect my own interests and gather intel. In the meantime, I lay low, keeping an eye on the situation.
Italy has stepped up the penalties for what we do and has increased their crackdowns on organized crime. I need to have as many diversions as possible. It’s added insurance for the day it might save our necks. What if our largest shipment of coke is about to be discovered? I can’t lose the money or the coke. The street value is high because it’s a commodity with a demand we struggle to meet as it is and a disruption in the supply chain is not good for business.
Tommaso doesn’t need to know my family history, nor does the Micheli family. I need to protect my family interests and determine how much damage Argon and his men have done. The streets have been noticeably quiet around Sal’s bar, and it makes me uneasy.
Every day that passes without the Michelis sending a message makes me wonder what they are planning. Dante is a thinker, and he’s biding his time in which to make a definitive decision on his next step. In my line of work, the waiting is more nerve-wracking than if he just took Argon out.
2
Valentina
“Valentina, time for dinner.” Papa’s voice ricochets off the cashmere tinted walls, giving light to the vast interior of the house. I don’t have to be next to him to know he’s grumbling, “Don’t make us wait.” It’s not like this is the first time he demands family dinner be kept. I’m 23, I know the drill. However, tonight we’re eating earlier than normal as it’s football season, which is soccer to the rest of the world.
The breathtaking sunset over the Tyrrhenian Sea never gets old. I’m at my family’s fortress, standing on the balcony outside my bedroom, and from this vantage point, near the top of the mountain, no one else in Palermo can see what I see. In one direction, newly furrowed land waiting to be cultivated for agriculture, and in the other, a mix of green landscape and tiled roofs with the bright sea as a backdrop.
My great granddad made sure he built this place on the highest elevation so no one else could build above us. Now I know it was due to his pride and need for power. By keeping local officials on the payroll, we retain much of the empire he built. Papa’s no different when it comes to pride and power. He runs Sicily and his family, especially me, his only daughter.
To say he keeps me on a short leash is an understatement. If I don’t get off this island soon, I’m afraid I’ll go crazy.
The only thing keeping me sane at the moment is knowing there is a huge gala coming up, and I have a new gown to wear, a champagne dress made specifically for me by Stella McCarthy. It’s been altered to cling to my figure. The annual event is being held at the Borghese Museum of Art. I’m looking forward to viewing the art collection. I can’t deny that getting some attention from the paparazzi is nice as I don’t have anyone else giving me the attention I crave.
My focus is drawn back to the water and the freedom I see in the unpredictable waves. Tempted by the freedom outside our fortress and yet confined within these stark and sterile walls, I’m mocked at every turn.
It’s moments like this when I fantasize about what I might be doing if I wasn’t under the constant scrutiny of bodyguards and Papa’s keen and vengeful eyes.
I want to rebel. I do. I’m tired of this twenty thousand square foot gilded cage and all of the servants needed to maintain it. God forbid my mother break a nail or miss an appointment at the salon. She is a good cook, when she’s in the mood, which isn’t often.
I’m jealous my best friend, Laura, has so much more freedom and even gets to choose her husband. Her father is only an underboss, so she doesn’t have the bank account and finery that I do. However, she has the ability to move about, and go places with her fiancé.