Rise of the Titan

by Pressley James

  “Listen to this genius idea. I say that we expand our operation on down to Ft. Wallers. Shit, they’re military men, but hell, even they want to get high,” Vitali suggested with barely restrained glee and waved a dismissive hand in the air. “We start out slow, put a mule close to the base, and see if it’s a substantial business area.”

  “Hell, no, it’s too risky,” he broke in with the fast shake of the head. Better yet, he hadn’t gathered enough details about the current illegal operation yet. But, he was working on it. Still, his poker face was intact as he addressed them. “After your little show down on the Beltway last month, I think that you should lay low.”

  “Titan’s right,” one of the other mafia leaders broke in. “The heat’s too hot. Keep the operation small scale as it is now, and we’ll all get a cash hit.”

  “What about the massage parlor? Is it bringing in the revenue like you said, Vitali?” one of the others probed. “Gotta say I still have some misgivings about it. While I’m willing to get my hands dirty in things….I’m edgy about this, you know?”

  He tensed in the chair.

  The ‘massage parlor’…

  Was this the secret sex trafficking ring that his father was fronting?

  He’d heard some rumblings about it.

  A cold chill racked through him.

  This was a crucial point.

  There had to be something…something that’d stick and end his father’s reign of terror. Somehow, he had to find the inroads and put a stop to it.

  But, how?

  “Massage parlor?” he asked innocently, though the truth was apparent. “Since when did you get into massages, nails, and beauty? You sure in the hell haven’t mentioned it to me.”

  The men laughed again, though some with obvious discomfort.

  “That’s because that part of the business isn’t your fucking business,” Vitali muttered with his usual rudeness and lit the Cuban cigar. After taking two puffs, he leaned back in the chair again. “Just concentrate on the shipping part of things, and I’ll handle my private shit. This project is my baby and mine alone.”

  And that ‘private shit’ would be his reckoning, he vowed quietly, feeling his hatred bloom. That is when he found enough substantial evidence…

  “What about Caesar Velasquez?” one of the men inquired. “Word is he’s missing. Shit, he’s one of the major distributors.”

  “Velasquez is a slimy snake in the grass,” Vitali sneered. “He tried to cut me out of a big deal. So, I had to take care of him if you get my drift.” He gave a malicious smile. “I owed that bastard payback, and I gave it to him in the best way possible. Piece of advice, gentleman, forget about Velasquez. He’s no longer available.”

  An hour later, the conversation had turned private and more intense. But, now, the crowd size had dwindled down to three, just him, his estranged father, and Santiago. The three of them hovered at the head of the conference table. The others had ventured off for private pleasure inside the club.

  “The feds are up my ass on all fronts,” Vincent Santiago said in a heavy Italian-laden tone. Fiftyish, plump, and balding, the mafia king was well known for illegal gun trading and drug smuggling. His heavy jowls seemed to jiggle when he talked, and they brushed against the edges of his crisp white shirt. Cursing, he leaned closer to the table before complaining further. “Business is slow because I’m trying to keep my nose clean, you know.” A look of disgust covered his face. “There’s a cock sucking mole. Ruining all of my shit, and it’s costing me time, money, and patience.” The kingpin looked in his direction. “What do you think about that craziness, Titan---somebody trying to flank me?”

  “Hell, we live in a crazy world,” he suggested and tilted the shot glass in his hand. Then, after raising it to his lips, he gulped the alcohol down. As the liquor burned his throat, he gave a satisfied sigh. Probably, he’d had one too many, he mulled. How many did that make---5 or 6? During the last hour or so, he’d lost count. Shit, he had to have something to keep the vomit from coming up. Instead of retching, he kept the conversation going. “Anything and everything is meaningless, even loyalty when it comes down to it.”

  “Speaking of loyalty,” Vitali interrupted smoothly and grasped his wrist. “Can I expect it from you?”

  “With all of your nefarious dealings, have I ratted you out yet?” he countered back, pulling free from his hold. And the key word was ‘yet’ because he sure in the hell was working overtime to bring him down. Again, his smile lacked any feeling. “Just like you, I’m out to get what’s mine.”

  “All of this---it will be yours someday,” Vitali slurred in a slow tone, and his gray eyes were glazed over, evidently an after effect from the pure cocaine that he’d snorted several minutes ago. “But, you have to have real balls to run this shit. It’s not a world for the weak or asinine.” He gave a mirthless laugh. “Titan, I’ve underestimated you in more ways than one. To think all this time that I thought you were a weak ass pussy. You sure in the hell were one growing up. That dick of yours was the only thing that proved that you’d eventually become a man.”

  Both Vitali and Santiago erupted in laughter.

  Silently, he watched them.

  As usual, the words ran cold.

  So cold, in fact, that they froze his impenetrable heart further.

  “And I suppose that you’re a man, huh? Tell me what in the hell convinced you that you were a real one.” Tensing, he sat higher in the seat. “Nah, you got it twisted, Vitali. On every front, you lack any decency. In fact, your ‘manly’ tactics are past cruel and insulting.” He drained the remaining liquor in the glass and met his gaze dead on. “Beating and assaulting women and children doesn’t make a man. Perhaps all the beatings that Mama and I took at your hands made you think so.”

  “Whoa,” Santiago cautioned slowly and slid his chair back. The man didn’t bother hiding his look of discomfort. It was evident along every line of his plump face. “Maybe it’s time for me to go. Sounds like a private conversation---”

  “No, you’re not going anywhere.” He clamped a firm hand around the man’s wrist and stayed him. Forcing himself to relax, he released his hold. “If anything, he loves an audience.” His smile tightened. “Besides that, I mean, we’re all family here, right? That is in this little twisted criminal world that we live in.”

  “That we are,” Vitali agreed, and his gray eyes steeled over further. “But, there are some things that not even family share---”

  “Many would agree that this is a tale worth telling.” Reaching over, he grabbed the liquor bottle before filling the shot glass again. He slapped the bottle back down on the table with extra force, and to surprise, it didn’t shatter. Then, he inclined his head in Vitali’s direction. “Know what this bastard did? He made me watch.”

  “M---made you watch?” Santiago stuttered and flushed red. “What in the hell do you mean, Titan?”

  “Boy,” Vitali muttered with renewed sternness, and his jaw clenched tight. “I’m warning you. Not another fuckin’ word.” He passed a fast uneasy glance in Santiago’s direction. “He’s bullshitting.”

  “The hell I am.” A new moodiness enveloped him, and it was his usual defense mechanism against the dark sordid memories of the past. As he eyed his estranged father, he mentally embraced the ghosts past. “Your game always started out the same way. You’d stop by for one of your spotty visits. Like every asshole kid, I was excited to have my dad around. But, the very moment,” he said with a steely softness, a brand that belied his barely controlled anger. “…your fist connected with her face and beat it to a bloodied pulp, that very excitement turned to horror.”

  “Damn it, kid. I hope you’re bluffing,” Santiago countered back with a quick sharpness. “A man’s supposed to take care of his family if nothing else. That’s the sacred oath. You fuck everyone else over, but you don’t hurt family.” Santiago swung his gaze between the two of them. “Something says that you ain’t shittin’ though.”

  “He
ll, I’m the finished product of his making. Isn’t that proof enough that I’m not shitting? From the insides and the out, his sick twisted version of love has fucked me up.” A dead silence held before he turned an accusing stare on Vitali. “But, it wasn’t enough that you debased her, was it? You wanted to cripple me as much as you did her. Whenever you were finished with her, it was my turn.” His stare didn’t waver. “We were outmatched at every level, and you relished that fact, didn’t you? I mean, there I was a defenseless and helpless ten year old boy trying to defend myself against a grown man. And that night, I changed irrevocably. Whatever jacked up form of innocence that I had, I lost it then.” His smile was devoid of feeling. “But, I like to think of that time as my formative year. That’s when I learned the awful truth about you. You weren’t the heroic father that I’d conjured in my dreams. In fact, you were the exact opposite---the very nightmare that plagued my living existence.”

  Vitali’s sneer was nasty. “You always did have the tendency to exaggerate.”

  “Trust me. There’s hardly any exaggeration here---just the plain truth.” The nasty bile rose in his throat. “My memory’s crystal clear. I can remember every detail so vividly. It was my tenth birthday, and I can remember you saying that I was finally going to become a man.” The pain constricted in his throat. “You grabbed me and wrestled me to the bed; and nothing pleased you more than me trying to fight you off.” He stopped talking for a brief second, but the violent memory wouldn’t let him stay silent. “You pinned me against the mattress. I can remember the feel of your knee in my stomach. All I could think was that I couldn’t breathe. I thought that I was going to die. Then, like a coward, I pissed on myself because I was so scared. That blatant show of weakness on my end satisfied you to no end.” He stared at some point across the distance, lost in the horrible reverie. “But, the nightmare didn’t end there, did it?” He shuddered at the violent memory before forcing eye contact again. “Fortunately for you, I don’t want to talk about that. So, let’s just end the shit right here, alright? So, here’s to you, good old dad. Thanks for the fatherly love.” Giving a mock toast, he saluted his father before drinking more liquor. Once more, the open hostility coursed through him like rapid fire. “Maybe we’re more alike than I care to admit. We’re both lacking any real substance. In fact, both of us are cut from nothing but pure shit---”

  Vitali sprung up from the conference table. “Damn it, that’s enough!” Then, he forced a laugh before clapping Santiago’s shoulders. “The boy has obviously had too much to drink and needs to walk it off. Besides that, we have other matters to discuss, Santiago.” He arched a brow. “Let’s talk in private, eh?”

  Santiago nodded before acquiescing. “Of course.”

  Falling silent, he watched as they strode away.

  But, his own anger was too volatile now.

  Agitated and on edge, he couldn’t stay still.

  After backing away from the table, he stood abruptly.

  Then, snatching the liquor bottle from the conference table, he walked to the glass paned window. The alcohol was warm as he took a big swig from the bottle. But, as he stared out the window, nothing appeased the unrest inside of him.

  A short moment later, Vitali joined him again.

  “What was the meaning of that? Airing our dirty laundry before Santiago like that?” Vitali hissed angrily and shot a fast glance over his shoulder. “Nobody’s supposed to know about that shit! Just keep it between me, you, and your ma, alright?”

  He shrugged and the coldness inside his heart deepened. “It was the truth.”

  “Have you ever heard that the truth is better left unsaid, you stupid prick?” Then, Vitali sighed hard. “Listen, Titan. It’s time to can this bullshit between us. We got off on the wrong foot this evening. Our tempers flared and things just went out of control.” He curled a hand about his left shoulder. “Guess what? I’m going to make it up to you. Something’s been in the works all night. Fun for you and the rest of the boys, eh?”

  “No thanks.” He frowned before staring into the empty bottle. Or perhaps there was a little of the brew left inside, he mulled, spying the drop of liquor inside. Suddenly, the tiny drops morphed, and it seemed that he was seeing double. He shook his head to clear it. “I’m getting the hell out of here and away from you.”

  “And how will that look?” Vitali snapped and tightened the hold on his shoulder, so much so that pain shot through it. Again, another violent maneuver that’d always silenced him as a child. “The rest of the boys are going to sense this tension between us. It’s going to throw our deals into a crazy frenzy. Is that what you want?”

  No, what he actually wanted was to see him pay.

  And that meant playing every beat of the game.

  “You’re right.” His smile was stiff. “Perhaps a little fun will lighten my mood.”

  “That’s my boy!” Vitali smiled widely and relaxed. “And for you, my son, it’s nothing but the best. Your sinful delight awaits you in The Quarters.” Leaning in closer, he whispered at his ear. “Most of the bitches here are open to extra business if you offer them enough, if you get my drift. Not only will they bare their goods, but they’ll fuck you as well. Nothing like some good hot pussy on a night like this anyway, right?” He slapped his back. “I’d say that I’d be around, but Santiago and I have to take care of a few things across town. So, can I leave the place in your care for the next couple of hours?”

  Fuck yeah…

  More time and leeway to sneak around…

  Better yet, and hopefully, some exposure to his business ledgers…

  He nodded. “I’ll handle it.”

  “Go. Get out of here, my boy.” Vitali turned him around before giving a gentle nudge. “Your fun and entertainment awaits you in the Quarters.”

  After passing his father a dismissive nod, he strode away.

  Again, why am I here, he frowned in irritation, moments later, stepping into the Quarters, and then shut the door behind him. There were more important things for him to do instead of sitting through one of these jacked-up private shows. But, he couldn’t set off any alarm bells; therefore, he had to play along. Plus, Vitali’s goons were watching him like a damned hawk and monitoring his every move.

  He paused at the door before glancing around.

  The Quarters was exemplary.

  Grand, elusive, allusive, and inviting in every sense…

  The setting was rich with seductive suggestions.

  At every angle, the night sky was visible through the glass-paned windows. The moonlight escaped inside and cast a mysterious glow into the semi-darkened space.

  An oblong stage, about 6’ or 7’ feet in length, was stationed at the room’s rear. A black sequined curtain was draped along the back of it, and was obviously the entry point for the private dancer. Apart from the stage, sitting dead center and facing the platform, there was a plush red chair. A tiny black remote rested on its cushion, and once pressed, it’d act as a signal to the secret room. Plastered and positioned against the wall, a wet bar was well-stocked with liquor and such. Racks were perfectly lined and stacked with crystalline shot glasses, flutes, and goblets.

  And shit maybe it was time to relax, he frowned before pulling the handgun from his waistband. Though, he was hardly in need of another drink, he trailed in the direction of the bar anyway. When he reached it, he placed the handgun on the counter and then snatched the bottle of scotch from the middle shelf. To his chagrin, his hands shook violently. Releasing a disgusted sound, he slapped the bottle onto the counter.

  “Damn it,” he cursed softly, shutting his eyes, and braced both hands against the smooth counter top. Then, as the anger surged through him, he pounded a hard fist against it. “Why do I let him get to me like that? I’m supposed to be above that shit.”

  Yet, would he ever be?

  “Obviously, I know that answer,” he scowled heavily, snatching the scotch bottle from the counter, and filled the shot glass. Again, the truth
was an unsettling reminder that he’d never be fully sane. “And it’s a big fucking no.”

  He strode across the room before settling in the chair. Even as he chugged some alcohol down, he couldn’t escape the ugly memories that were stirring in his mind. Suddenly, he was uncomfortable, and even the shirt collar seemed too restrictive. Snagging the first button, he began freeing each one. After he’d unbuttoned the shirt about midway his chest, he relaxed somewhat.

  Now, he was breathing and a part of the living again.

  He downed the rest of the alcohol.

  “Now, let’s get this shit over with,” he muttered low under his breath and grasped the tiny black remote. “Then, I can move on to some real business.”

  ***

  “Where in the hell are you?” she sighed impatiently and looked at the wall clock again. She’d been in the shielding area---well, actually, a small bedroom that was attached to a larger area, but well hidden---for over an hour. “Makes me wonder what kind of nefarious dealings were wagered during this so called meeting with the Wolf Pack. No doubt, it’s all kinds of horrible.” She frowned hard. “But, where in the hell is my hound---the very one that I hope to get something out of…an identity at least.”

  Her frown deepened.

  She certainly was out of patience.

  A shiver racked through her.

  Not only that, but she was chilled.

  The outfit was past flimsy.

  “A flimsy piece of nothing just like Larry said,” she scowled, glancing down at the one piece that was akin to a thong swimsuit in a sense. It was easily visible through the thin sheer covering. She ran both hands along her bared arms in furious strokes. But, her actions did little to drive the chills away. “And I hate it when he’s right.”

  The lacy fabric only covered her pointed nipples and private area below. Everything else was exposed. Along her curvy hips, there was nothing but naked skin. Against her brown flesh, the white piece was flawless, enriching her skin tone even more. Earlier, she’d removed the pins from her head, and now, the thick black tresses tumbled past her shoulders.