She intrigued me, which was a rarity because hardly anything did these days. I needed to learn more about this woman. Who she truly was? What she was and meant to the Golden Skulls. Maybe she was my way in. I didn’t know, but I was going to find out.
Reaching for my phone, I contacted the only person I knew who could find the information I was looking for. Jonathan Collins was hands down the best in his field, and I only worked with the best. If I wanted to know anything about anyone, he was the only one I would call, and because I kept him on retainer, he was at my beck and call.
Gio:Find everything you can on a woman named Layla. She is supposedly the sister of a man in the California Chapter of the Golden Skulls M.C. I want to know everything about her, her parents, brother, and why the club is hiding her.
Jonathan:Kind of busy here, Gio. Can’t stop what I’m doing.
Gio:Not my problem. Just get it done.
Jonathan:Anyone ever tell you that you’re an asshole?
Gio:All the time.
Ignoring his reply, I looked through several of my emails, knowing I should have received a confirmation about the meeting with Vito Grimaldi. It was a lucrative deal that I had been working on for months. All that was left to do was sit down with the head of the Grimaldi Family and solidify the deal. Grimaldi wanted to meet in person. So, I obliged and arranged for this meeting. It was odd since the man hardly ever met anyone in public. In fact, Vito Grimaldi was a notorious recluse who ran his family with an iron fist behind closed doors. No one ever went against him. If they did, they soon found their own family members dead or seriously beaten.
The deal was simple. A one-year contract would allow my family access to the Grimaldi port to import and export our own goods. In return, Grimaldi would receive ten percent of the profits and a favor, which could be used at any time.
Though I wasn’t happy about the favor, it solidified the deal.
What I really wanted was the deal with the Golden Skulls. Mainly their Florida Chapter controlled fifty-five percent of the Miami shipping port. With that kind of collateral, I could move my products and goods anywhere worldwide. But every time I tried to reach out to the club’s president, I was told no.
I had to find a way into that club. My business depended on it since I refused to move the family to the east coast. It wasn’t that I was opposed to it. It was just that many other families vied and fought for control of what little areas they owned. Plus, I didn’t want to go to war over something as mundane as that. No. I loved living in Chicago, and my whole family did as well. Add in the fact that I ran Chicago, and well, that was something I wasn’t even willing to give up.
Chicago was my town. Nothing happened in my city without me knowing. Even the gangs and low-level thugs knew not to fuck with me. I didn’t interfere in their trivial daily doings, and they steered clear of mine.
The fact of the matter was that no one really knew what I did, what my family did. Most people thought we were mafia, that we ran drugs, guns and worked with the cartels dipping our toes into the human trade, but that was the furthest thing from the truth. In reality, I was a businessman. My family owned and operated several factories and businesses that dealt with whole goods, clothing, and more. And thanks to my brother Luciano we were now entering a new phase of business which strictly dealt with Arts and Entertainment. But what only a few knew was how we got started, and as far as I was concerned, no one would ever find out.
On the outside, my family was respected and coveted for our social standings and ability to turn anything into gold. Whatever we ventured in made millions. To the family, we were just that…a family. But the ones we kept close, the family members who were direct descendants, knew the truth. There were only a few of us, and it was going to stay that way.
Dialing my brother Antonio, I waited as patiently as I could for him to answer. Antonio hated talking on phones. He believed they were all bugged, and anyone could be listening in. My youngest brother may be the smartest of us all, but he was also the most paranoid.
“What!” Antonio shouted into the phone. “What do you want?”
Sighing, I leaned back in my chair and asked, “What is wrong now?”
“Sorry, Gio. You caught me at a bad time. I’m just busy.”
“Too busy to talk to your big brother?”
“Yes. I’m too busy for you, Gio. But I can take a few minutes for family. What do you need?”
“I sent Angelo back home. Can you arrange for Nico and Enzo to meet me in New York? Nico should be finished with the Weaver Family. Just reroute him to New York.”
“Why did you send Angelo away?”
“Get with Illyria and set up a family investigation.”
The line went silent as I knew it would. It wasn’t every day that I asked for something so formal, and a family investigation was just that. Only done by the immediate family. No others were to know about it until the investigation was complete. And when it was completed, it generally ended in bloodshed.
“Who?”
“Angelo Demarco.”
“Your bodyguard?”
“Yes.”
“What are we looking for?”