Page 4 of The Italian

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His father looked him up and down. “You look like shit, Nico. When was the last time you shaved? Or put on a nice suit?”

“Will shaving and wearing a nice suit help me somehow magically run this organization better, Dad? Will it keep these assholes from jacking our shipments and trying to make a move on us?” Nico snapped.

“It’s about respect. A man who takes care of himself commands respect, Nico. Shave. Wear a nice suit. Take care of yourself. That will earn you respect,” Aldo said. “Running around all night chasing a piece of ass and stumbling in the next day looking like shit will show people you are not serious. It will make them believe you are not ready to run the organization because you’re too busy partying.”

Nico fell silent and watched Terzo and the men finish loading the truck. There wasn't much he could say to his father's lecture because, on some level, Nico didn't think he was wrong. His father had been in the game for a long, long time and knew what it took to be successful. To command the respect of others. And more importantly, his father knew what it took to have those others willingly cede their power and control to him.

As Nico stood there with all those thoughts running through his mind, another uninvited and unwelcome thought popped into his head. River. The American girl from the club last night. Her face floated through his mind entirely unbidden. She was so soft and delicate, so sweet and innocent, and so young. She couldn’t have been more than twenty. Which, given that he was thirty-eight, made her almost twenty years his junior.

But there was something about her that set his insides ablaze. He recalled her light floral scent and the sultry swell of her hips and her full breasts. Her alabaster-colored skin was accented by hair blacker than a raven's wing. She also had a pair of purple stripes in her hair that spoke to her youth. River's eyes were so blue, they were almost crystalline and were captivating. Just the memory of them sent a ripple through his heart… and all points lower than that. She was beautiful. Her curves soft and purely feminine.

Nico gave himself a shake, trying to focus. But just standing there thinking about her sent goosebumps marching up and down his skin and tightened his groin uncomfortably. Nico gritted his teeth and tried to banish her image from his mind to keep himself from having to explain to his father why he was standing there with a hard-on. There was something about River though that kept bringing his thoughts back to her. It was more than strange. He’d never had that sort of reaction to a woman before.

Terzo gave him a wave before jumping into the truck and heading out. If Nico was being honest with himself, he’d admit he was a little nervous about the shipment getting to where it needed to go. Part of it was not wanting his father to think he was a fuck up… any more than he already did anyway. The other and bigger part of it was that he didn’t want to further embolden the enemies who were circling them like vultures over a carcass.

Nico knew he was going to need to do something to establish himself. To assert himself and make sure the pricks who were testing him knew he was not a man to be fucked with. And the good thing was that he had just the thing to do that.

“I have a gift for you, father,” he said once the warehouse was empty.

“A gift?”

Nico nodded. “A gift.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped out a quick text message. He hit send and dropped the phone back into his pocket then used the remote to close the large roll-down warehouse doors. The skylights in the ceiling let in plenty of natural light, keeping the floor of the warehouse brightly lit.

“What is this, Nico?” his father asked.

“Just wait.”

A door opened in the rear of the warehouse and two men in dark jeans and black, long-sleeved t-shirts stepped in. They were dragging a third man between them. The man’s head hung down, his dark, greasy hair hanging over his face. His entire body was slack and the two men in black were dragging him across the warehouse floor. The man grunted and then groaned in pain as he was dumped at Nico's feet. The two men stepped back and folded their arms across their chests as they waited for further instructions.

“Son, what is this?” Aldo asked.

“This is the man who organized the last hijacking of our trucks,” Nico said.

His father’s face immediately darkened, and an expression of rage twisted his features. The man grunted as he got to his knees and looked up at Nico. His face was bloody and bruised, his lips split, and one eye swollen shut. His face was grim, but he still had a small spark of hope in his eyes. Nico had seen that kind of look before. The man kneeling before him looked like a man who knew he was facing his execution and was trying to find a way to cut himself a deal. Like a man searching for a way out of his mess.

“What’s your name?” Nico asked.

“Dario, sir,” he stammered. “Dario Costa.”

“And you are the one who jacked our shipment, yes?”

He paused for a moment as if the lie on his lips were second nature and he had to check himself to keep it in. Dario swallowed hard and nodded.

“Yes. I was the one who planned it, yes. I was hired to do it,” he said. “I am sorry. If I’d known they were your trucks, I never would have taken the job, Mr. Santonelli. I swear it.”

Nico stepped forward and drove his fist into the man’s face. He grunted as he fell backward, hitting the ground with a wet splat as fresh blood flowed from his nose. Nico’s men picked him back up and put him on his knees again. Dario wiped away the blood and raised his gaze to Nico’s again.

“Who hired you?” Nico asked.

The man swallowed hard and shook his head. “I—I can’t tell you that, Mr. Santonelli. They’ll… they’ll kill me.”

Nico nodded to one of the men standing behind Dario. He pulled his Glock and stepped forward, pressing the barrel against the kneeling man’s head. Dario’s eyes grew wide, and he let out a choked sob. Nico took a step closer and leaned down.

“What do you think I’m going to do if you don’t tell me, Dario? Give you a fucking handjob?” Nico snarled. “Give me a fucking break. Now, give me a name.”

“If I tell you, will you let me live?” Dario sputtered.


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