Luciano: Chapter 19
“What the fuck happened here?”
Cassio’s and Luca’s grim expressions told me nothing good. This warehouse should be filled with their shipment of guns and drugs. Yet, it was empty. It almost felt like déjà vu from that day when my location was hit. But my wife didn’t know about this shipment.
This shipment was meant to fool Alphonso and Benito into thinking Raphael was on their side, working with them. And it was all gone, not a single product in sight. There was no time to arrange for a new one and there was never a plan to deliver a shipment of women. We are fucked!
“Goddamn father of mine,” Cassio gritted, trying to maintain control. I offered to let him use my warehouse in Jersey, but he felt confident his father hadn’t gotten wind of it. “Fucking greedy asshole.”
Benito King ruled New York, but barely. The only reason he maintained his position was thanks to Cassio and Luca. But those two had enough. Now they worked for themselves. Their father fucked them over enough.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Raphael Santos. “Hey buddy.”
“Fuck,” he chuckled over the phone. “I am almost there. But I have a feeling you want something pronto.”
I chuckled back. Lucky for everyone, I was in a good mood after last night. Yes, my wife was gone when I woke up this morning but her delicate smell was still all around me. Even on my crisp, white button-down shirt and black three-piece suit. She must have brushed against it when she went into my closet, because I could smell her lingering perfume all around me.
“Benito King intercepted a shipment that was coming to the city. Do you have anyone that can run it down? But instead of bringing it back to the city, take it to Jersey. My favorite place.”
“Sure thing. See you in five. I’ll have an update for you then.”
That was the reason I liked doing business with Raphael. No delay, no questions. He knew we didn’t deal in flesh, so that was all that mattered to him.
I met Cassio’s thunderous gaze. He was still fuming about what his father did. Luca kept playing with his knife, throwing it up into the air and catching it. One of these days, that motherfucker would cut his finger off. I really liked him, but he had to stop playing with knives.
“Raphael might be able to seize it.”
“Thanks, Luciano.”
“Don’t mention it. You’d do the same for me.” Cassio has been my best friend for a long time, and I knew he would do the same for me. In fact, he had done the same for me multiple times. When I needed backing against the Romano family for killing my mother and sister, he and Luca were there with me.
We stood in silence. I knew Cassio needed to simmer down his rage. We were similar in that aspect. When we lost our shit, we really lost our shit.
Luca, despite his happy-go-lucky bastard attitude he had most of the time, had similar rage issues when he lost his shit. My rage started when my mother and sister were murdered. Cassio and Luca’s much earlier on. Their sick, bastard father was to blame.
After a while, I broke the silence. “It might be time to take the East Coast.”
His gaze snapped to mine. He knew what I meant. His father shouldn’t be the ruler of New York. There wasn’t a single man that currently ruled the East Coast. Yes, his father wanted to, but he’d never succeed. Nico, Luca, Alessio, and I would never work with him. Same was true for Raphael Santos who owned Florida and Vasili who ruled New Orleans.
“We have too much shit going on now,” he muttered.
“We’ll always have too much shit going on.”
“Why are you in such a great mood?” Luca drawled, a smile on his face. He finally stopped flipping his knife. I had to give it to him; he knew how to control his rage. “Someone got lucky last night?”
I grinned. “None of your fucking business.” I would never discuss private details about my wife with any man, although I knew it was hard to hide that shit went rather great last night. After I beat the crap out of Ian Laszlo. “I’d back you up if you decide now is the time. Benito is a loose cannon. He has been from the moment he stepped into your grandfather’s shoes. Your Sicilian roots, your mother’s father backing along with Nico, Alessio, Luca, Raphael, and I… Fuck, even Vasili Nikolaev would be onboard to help. We could take the East Coast.”
I knew he wanted to. He has been working on it for years, moving the chess pieces slowly, undetected by his father. I could practically hear the wheels spinning in his head. Cassio hated unnecessary death, but the fact was in this world, there would always be death. None of us were saints; it just happened that some of us were worse than others. And Benito King was the worst of us all. Men that willingly followed him were no better.
“Might be time, brother,” Luca chimed in. He had no desire to rule the East Coast. Truthfully, neither did Cassio, but he refused to work for his father. Because the thing was… his father didn’t work with anyone. He insisted on everyone working for him.
Never. Gonna. Happen.
And it wasn’t as if we could be completely out. Like they say, the only way out was death.
“Just think how many lives we could actually save,” I justified. “The entire coast would be ours. No human trafficking on our turf, from Alaska, Canada, all the way down to Florida. Fuck, even Louisiana with Vasili.”
His pensive eyes watched down the docks and over the horizon. He knew I was right. We could have a good thing going. Yes, gun and drug dealing were bad. But it wasn’t forcing women and children into fucked up situations. Truthfully, I wanted out of this business. Money laundering, all of it. But with Cassio as the head of the East Coast, it would be a partnership, and we’d control it all. I knew from an early age what my father did. So did Cassio. My grandfather ran a similar operation alongside Cassio’s and Luca’s maternal grandfather in Sicily. It was the reason we were so close, the three of us.
“No need to answer now,” I told him, hearing Raphael’s car engine pull up. “Think about it. I’m with you either way.”
Raphael strode in. I shook my head. That damn Columbian always looked like he just came off the runway, or a magazine featuring the top CEOs. He wore a white three-piece suit and against his tan skin and dark hair, it didn’t look too shabby. It almost led you to believe he wasn’t a threat. Almost.
“Hey, pretty boy.” He flipped me the middle finger, and I chuckled. Yes, maybe I was in a great mood today.
“Well, this pretty boy has a surprise coming for you guys.”
“What’s that?” I teased him. “A Gucci suit?”
“My boys already located the stolen shipment. We killed all the men, but left one alive. My present to you.”
I shook my head. Raphael was an important asset to keep. “You are a fucking hunter. I knew you’d get them.”
“Fucking right!”
I glanced at Cassio. “What do you say, Cassio? Want to question our suspect?”
“Yes, I think it is time we make some changes around here. Let’s teach our suspect who owns the East Coast.”
“Fuck yeah!” Luca muttered.
Raphael grinned. He wasn’t part of our conversation, but he knew the end game. Benito King had to go.
“Is he coming with the shipment?”
Upon his nod, we all loaded into our vehicles. I sent Roberto to go check on the status of our runners that cleaned money through my casinos in Atlantic city. I had several guards at the house watching over the women and Matteo along with my father.
Massimo was with me and he was currently outside. He had some shit to take care of with the technology he upgraded at the compound along with every business I owned. Massimo is one of the rare men I trusted implicitly. If he changed anything about our security, I never questioned him.
We all loaded into multiple cars. Cassio, Luca, Raphael, and I each had three men with us, along with two vehicles each. That way, if we were attacked, it was harder to get to us.
We took the route of the Brooklyn Bridge. I remembered the first date I took Grace to. I told her we would dine at a restaurant in the city. Her first request was whether we could take the Brooklyn Bridge route. It was her favorite way into the city. I was suspicious of her request and had taken five vehicles and extra men along with me. But the moment the car drove onto the bridge, she straightened up and stared out the window, the whole world forgotten. She loved to look over the river. A month into our wedding, I finally asked her what was so special about it. It was always the same view.
Her smile as she turned those beautiful violet eyes to meet my gaze shone on her face.
“My parents met on the bridge when they were kids,” she admitted. “Makes me remember.”
I didn’t ask her to elaborate, but I should have. Maybe I would have learned a thing or two about my wife. The bloodthirsty need to avenge my mother’s and sister’s deaths, and fighting the attraction I felt for my wife, ate at me back then. I made a lot of mistakes when it came to her, and I intended not to repeat them. She’d give us a fresh start, a chance. She had to; I wouldn’t take her refusal. It would be Matteo, my wife, and me.
Another ten minutes and we pulled up to the port I owned in Jersey.
This was good. No incidents, no trouble.
“I think we got it all,” Raphael’s brother-in-law, Sasha Nikolaev, spoke up. “We got them while still on the boat, before they were able to dock. At least I was able to use my new sniper rifle. I left you one guy to play with,” he smirked. His pale hair and pale blue eyes made him look very much like his oldest brother. Except Sasha’s temper was more off the hook than Vasili’s.
“Thanks, man.” I pat him on the back. “We owe you and Raphael.”
“Just put it on the tab, pretty boy,” Raphael’s voice taunted from the back.
It was my turn to flip him the bird.
“Okay, I’m out,” Sasha chimed in, flipping us both a middle finger. “I got some personal business to attend to.”
No doubt that meant there was a target on his list. Sasha and his half-brother, Alexei Nikolaev, were two of the best enforcers.
We all strode into the warehouse. All Cassio’s products were already offloaded and ready to go.
“I have two more men heading this way so we can move the product,” Cassio explained. None of us held on to our product long, especially not in one place. When Benito King was after it, we moved it even faster. Regardless that this was a setup shipment for Alphonso, we operated in the same capacity. Not to mention that Alphonso and Benito tried to fuck us over, many times over the years.
The man sat tied up to a chair, his wide eyes darting between us all. He was probably trying to decipher the weakest one of us to the strongest. He’d not have much success. He got himself into a pile of shit, probably wishing he was dead right now.
The four of us stood in front of him, all our suits impeccable. “Fuck, I really didn’t dress for the occasion,” Raphael muttered. “I love this suit.”
“Dude, you look like you are a virgin,” Luca joked. “Who wears a white suit?”
“All the badasses.” Raphael reached under his blazer and pulled a gun out. “Can we just shoot him so I can keep my suit white? Or did you have something else in mind?”
This was how we played with the fuckers.
I shrugged. “I was thinking maybe we start with pulling his teeth, with a set of pliers. There is one set around here, I’m sure.” I pretended to look around, as if I was seriously searching for the tool. I turned my head at Luca. “Hey, you have a knife. Can you just start with an eyeball?”
A whimper had all of us directing attention to our guest. “What was that, fucker?” I taunted. “You’d like us to start with an eyeball?”
“N-no.”
I yawned, pretending boredom. “Gentlemen, we have to speed this up. I got a date later today.”
“Let’s start with a finger,” Luca suggested, as he threw his knife up into the air and caught it easily.
Massimo stepped behind the guy and held his hand out, gripping it tight. “Better not get his shit on me,” he warned, grinning devilish. Massimo was just as fucking crazy as I was. “My girl and I are having dinner at a fancy restaurant.”
“Look at you two fuckers,” Cassio groaned. “Can you stop bragging about your love lives?”
“Someone definitely got lucky last night,” Luca chuckled, still flipping his knife into the air.
“I got lucky last night too,” Raphael chimed in, grinning. “So, it leaves only two unlucky bastards.”
“That’s it,” Luca growled in pretense. “I am getting lucky tonight.”
“Well, let’s get lucky and cut this guy’s finger off,” Cassio retorted. “Unless, he wants to tell us who he works for, and why he stole my shit.”
“I don’t know who hired me.”
“And here I thought we could finish today’s business on a high note,” I feigned distress. “Cut it.”
He tried to resist but it was futile. Massimo was stronger than him and held him still. Luca pressed his knife against his middle finger and cut it straight off while blood gushed all over. I guess he won’t be flipping anyone off. Not that he would get out of this alive.
His screams echoed throughout the warehouse. You’d think we cut off his entire hand, not just a finger.
“Who do you work for?” I asked again, seemingly bored to death.
He pressed his lips together, his refusal to answer. I nodded at Luca. “Cut the other middle finger too.”
Yes, I could be a sick and crazy fucking lunatic.
“Maybe we should just do the entire hand?” Cassio suggested. He looked pensive, as if he seriously weighed the pros and cons to it. “Yes, I like that better.”
Massimo grabbed his other hand and held it still. “You get your fucking blood on me, I’ll bring you back to life just so I can kill you again,” he growled.
I guess nobody wanted to get dirty today.
“King. Marco King!” He pretty much screamed the name.
“Awww, man. Your little brother.” Cassio hated Marco as much as his father. Those two were made out of the same kind of evil. They raped and tortured women for pleasure. Both of them heavy into human trafficking.
“He wanted the shipment and the woman is next,” the pathetic fucker cried out.
I stopped dead in my tracks.
“What woman?” I growled. I had a bad feeling that I knew who the woman was.
“I don’t know,” he whined. “He bragged she’s a fucking descendant from some kind of royalty. All I know is that she was promised to him for a while. She is a natural redhead, and he’s into redheads.”
It was Grace; I had no fucking doubt. The cold rage and fear snaked through me. Marco King wanted Grace. “Kill him,” I spat.
Massimo stepped away, then Cassio reached for his gun and fired one bullet.
He slumped forward in the chair. Three seconds of silence. “Yes, it’s time to take the East Coast,” Cassio acknowledged.
“About fucking time,” the rest of us muttered in unison.