by Anna Widzisz
Hunter wouldn't show up today. For a very good reason. He was probably in a hospital, or at the very least at home recovering from his wounds. The latter was wiser, judging by the fact that the police could get involved if he called an ambulance. Getting beat up wasn't just shrugged off by law enforcement.
Thankfully, he had managed to get a replacement. Savannah was smart but her cooking skills ended at making a PB&J sandwich for Aiden and tea. Canned food and take-outs from the diner were her friends. Now she could focus on getting through the day, trying to forget about yesterday. She needed money so quitting was out of the question.
She wiped the counter, feeling a pinch in her hand, followed by a cramp. It reminded her that she hadn't actually dealt with her own pain of having her palm stubbed. She remembered smashing it into a desk in Hunter's office, after being startled by Elio. It surely wasn't broken but Savannah should at least put some ointment on it to heal. With the overwhelming situation, she’d totally forgot about it.
Moving on to count the money in the register, she heard the doors being opened.
"I'm sorry, we're still closed," she said without looking up. Sometimes people saw her through the window and wanted to order, not realizing that there was a little time left before she opened the diner.
"I believe you can make an exception," Savannah heard a voice with a strong accent that she immediately recognized as Russian. Slavic accents were very recognizable. Many people from those regions came to the States, looking for a better life. Sometimes it happened, sometimes they ended up worse. In her own apartment complex, there were two Estonian girls, however, their dream jobs turned out to be escorts as their last resort.
Her head shot up and she saw a familiar face. A man that had most certainly come in the diner to eat a few times already in the last month. He had always been dressed casually, yet he appeared to be different right now and it made Savannah shiver. He had black hair and brown eyes. His skin was pale; almost white. The man was somewhat too tall for his build. It was as if he stopped growing only to be stretched on one of those medieval racks a half-foot more. She couldn't help but wonder how many jokes and comments about his stature he got daily, jibes about "the air being thin up there".
It almost made her laugh. Even though she could feel that the atmosphere changed between them. Savannah thought that men in suits were supposed to be more trustworthy. Yet as she met both Elio and now this man, she was certain that perhaps the cover is what could pull all the girls in for certain death. Because that's how she felt right now. And while she could see herself risk more with Elio, the stranger in front of her made her want to run.
"I need to talk to the owner," he said.
What the fuck had Hunter got himself into?
Her throat went dry as if she hadn't drunk for at least a few days. Palms started to get sweaty. "He is not going to be in today."
The man looked at her, possibly analyzing whether she was lying. She wasn't but at this point, she even started to doubt her own words. Savannah couldn't believe that she would much rather sit in a goddamned car with Elio Conte right now than spend a second more with the Russian. She hoped that he would stop coming here; especially as a customer. Otherwise, she would change tables with another waitress at once.
Maybe she was exaggerating. After all, she’d been on edge since yesterday and now any person could trigger her instincts. Whether they were right or not.
"Spasibo," he murmured 'thank-you' and with a simple nod, he left.
Chapter Eight
It had been three months since the diner incident. Really long and busy months during which Elio could barely catch a break. His days consisted of paying visits to most owners of his Father's establishments to get the money, long fighting sessions with his brother and nights out with Flavio, fucking and drinking their lives away in clubs and bars. Occasionally staying in, ordering take-out and watching football matches.
He had finally found an apartment close to the center of Las Vegas so that he could still keep tabs on everything and get his job done quickly. It wasn't much, however, with the money he was being paid as an Enforcer, it was the best he could find. Especially since the prices in the city were over the top. One-bedroom apartment with a big living room connected to the kitchen was enough. As long as he didn't have to spend another day with his Father in the house he was all set.
This night, however, he had to change his plans. At exactly eight in the evening, Elio stepped into the foyer of the Bellagio and went straight to the lounge area where the meeting with the Capo was supposed to be. His father and brother were already waiting there, talking to another Capodecina of the Las Vegas Famiglia - Coluccio Guerra. The men were visibly nervous, talking in hushed voices, speculating as to why they had been called there last minute. And not just Noah Falcone’s captains but also their male family members. It had never happened before. Not even with the former Capo dei Capi.
There were many people present and they all had those confused expressions which they tried to cover but failed miserably. Elio couldn’t have mistaken them for anything else. Noah didn’t give a fuck about many things. Not enough to call for so many of his people. And they all had in mind that there was only one other time that it had happened - when he took over the position and condemned many to death. He called it "a deep cleaning of the Famiglia".
The lounge was huge. It had four exits, each guarded by three bodyguards. Whoever came in couldn’t leave. At least not until the Capo appeared and said his piece. Some of the men were sitting, anxiously watching the doors. The inside was modernly decorated, white and black colors dominating.
”Father is shitting his pants that it has something to do with his delays in paying,” said Fabro, coming up right next to his twin. However, he wasn’t looking at him and pretended not to be even talking.
Elio rolled his eyes. Noah Falcone had been untamed ever since coming into power, killing his men left and right for any reason. Weeding out the traitors and those who were susceptible to become one. No surprise if the old man was one of the suspected bastards. However, calling all the captains with their sons wasn’t spelling out such intentions.
”There are surely more pressing matters than that. Falcone has more fucking money than he can count,” he explained and moved further through the room to the other side. He wasn’t feeling like being in the company of his family at the moment. A hangover was still clinging to him.
Alberto Bianchi, Gastone's right hand, came up to his father, whispering something in his ear, shaking his head. With his words, Gastone breathed out, holding his heart. Whatever information he heard, it gave him a sense of peace and interested Elio at the same time.
After a couple of minutes, the main doors opened once more and the Capo dei Capi of the Las Vegas Famiglia came rushing through, making all soldiers stand up at once. A murmur went through them as they regarded him. Then silence reigned.
The Capo’s expression was hard, stone cold. His eyes moved from one person to the other. As if he were looking for someone. Sporting a perfectly tailored suit, which he usually didn’t wear, he looked scarier than Elio had given him credit for before. Of course, he respected him. Barely older than him, he’d achieved so many things in the Famiglia’s circle. Moving the operation practically overnight wasn’t easy. It could have led to a mutiny with so many harsh changes done in a period of weeks. That it hadn’t was only because of Noah’s good negotiation skills and manipulative abilities. No one had challenged him openly ever since he’d killed his father’s closest associates and soldiers who had fucked up big time. It wasn’t easy to gain their trust to achieve greatness again. Yet, Noah had done it.
Flavio remained on the right side of his brother. A little behind, there was one of his Enforcers who had recently moved to Las Vegas from Sicily - Nicodemo Accardi. The son of one of the Capodecina back home. Neither of their faces betrayed their true intentions.
”I know my call was sudden but I am glad you have managed to come,” Capo start
ed, his voice deep and harsh. Dangerous. As if he were preparing for a hunting expedition. And people were his prey. ”I have made it my obligation to have meetings with the captains who are settled in Las Vegas each month. However, a few things came up that could not wait longer. One of which I believe your sons should hear as well. They are the future of the Famiglia after all.”
The men weighed his words skeptically. After years of cooperating with Noah, they still couldn’t be sure of his actions. Rightfully so. It was the Capo’s job to keep everyone on their toes just in case someone wanted to challenge his position.
”It has come to my attention that you have relied on my father’s agreement regarding your marriages. Let me tell you this openly once and for all. You are free to make any arrangements within our Famiglia without my permission. Your family issues are not my concern, nor will they ever be. As long as you don’t act against the Famiglia’s interest.”
Coluccio Guerra cleared his throat, gaining the Capo’s attention. Judging by Flavio’s eye roll, it was no surprise for him that the Capodecina was the one to take the floor. He had three daughters soon to become of-age and he was slowly but surely looking for suitors. He had even mentioned it to Elio and his brother, supposedly in passing. He couldn’t, however, be more open about it as it was a man’s job to approach the father with the intention of asking for a woman’s hand. The man clearly hoped that Noah would get involved and propose himself as a great asset. Or at the very least suggest someone else and take the matter off the Capodecina’s hands.
As if he didn’t know Noah Falcone. He couldn’t care less about getting married after the last time he’d been engaged. Back in Seattle. He was completely focused on Las Vegas Famiglia.
”Forgive my audacity but all Capo dei Capi get involved in such matters,” he said, trying to sound confident but his voice was faint. Good thing that there was silence all around because no one would have heard him otherwise.
Noah nodded. “Yes, I am very much aware of this, Coluccio. However, I’m not one to follow former Capos' footsteps. I don’t want history to repeat itself in any regard. As long as we are not taking into consideration arrangements with other families or outsiders, I am not going to take an active part in marriage issues. It is your job to be respectful and wise with your decisions. Women are under your protection and you should want the best of results from your bonds. You don’t need me for this, I believe.”
As soon as Noah mentioned mating with other Famiglias, and then outsiders, all captains made faces. They didn’t like even thinking of any of those moves. Sicilian Famiglia was based on traditions and such a young Capo dei Capi as Noah had already changed a lot. Going further; reminding them why they were in the position to listen to a man so much younger than them wouldn’t be taken well.
“Of course, but wouldn’t it be better to keep tabs on what is happening in the Famiglia?”
Elio choked on air. He covered his mouth, trying not to overshadow this stupid as fuck suggestion. Flavio smirked, knowing exactly how this sounded to his brother.
Capo stepped closer to Coluccio. He was a few inches taller than his Capodecina. Not to mention more fit. Even though the man took part in some actions, he was nowhere as ripped as the Boss.
”Do you suggest I have no idea what is going on in my own Famiglia?” he asked calmly, yet his eyes spoke a totally different story. He kept the rage covered under layers of undermining challenge.
“No, I’m not, Capo.” He backed out.
Wisely.
Noah wouldn’t hesitate to ram a knife through his throat, ripping his tongue out for disrespecting him.
Elio must admit that he prayed for Coluccio to say something more. It would have been a spectacular show to watch. Especially since Capo wasn’t the most humane person in the world.
”Good,“ Noah responded, going back to his earlier place. Flavio was no longer there. “Now, there’s one more thing I wanted to discuss.”
”Disappointed that the fucker stepped down?” Elio heard a whisper right behind him.
He turned his head slightly and saw Flavio standing near him. How he had managed to sneak his way past him in a matter of seconds he didn’t know.
”A little,” he answered. “Would have been fun.”
Flavio chuckled. ”Yes, it most certainly would. Noah was hoping for some more action before we got here. But it seems that he will be left wanting.”
”Everyone is shitting their pants because of how sudden this meeting was so I would say so too,” he joked.
”Those who have something on their conscience surely.”
”It’s a bloody mafia. I would be shocked otherwise,” Elio commented.
Then they both returned their attention to the Capo.
”We still have Russians in the city. More than I would like. And they got interested in many of our restaurant chains. I need you to keep a close eye on it and report to me if there is something wrong that you cannot handle. I am aiming at removing all the fuckers once and for all, however, it’s not something that can be done in a matter of seconds. But we can limit their possibilities. So talk to the owners of your establishments, make sure that they will stick with you.”
Making sure was putting it mildly. No one in their right state of mind would take the Capo’s words as anything other than the idea of threatening and keeping a strong grip on the matter. Made Men don’t talk. They order. There are only so many strikes they would accept. And that’s exactly where Elio’s role would become vital.
He smiled at the thought. Hoping that there would be those who wanted to play dirty. So that he could take over their games and make them his own.
That would be fucking perfect.
Chapter Nine
Board meeting was the right name.
That's how Elio saw it.
Suits and egos, not a smile that wasn't painted on or an opinion that wasn't so safe as to be completely pointless. As if they were colluding in how to have the dullest experience of living possible. Elio's whole insides shouted, “Just shut the fuck up and let us go!”.
He probably would if not for the fact that it was his father's meeting. And unlike the meeting that Noah Falcone had convened yesterday, he couldn't hope for any entertainment. Everyone was selective of what to say as per usual, and quite honestly, Gastone couldn't say anything that hadn't already been said before.
This meeting took place because of the need to set up a plan for the establishments. Going to the owners and talking to them. Nothing that Elio was a part of as the first step. Only if there were going to be problems later on, would he step up.
The Capodecina was about to conclude. Oh, fuck no. He announced: “And another thing,"
Elio slumped down in his chair making a noise. All eyes of soldiers working for his father looked his way disapprovingly. No one was more bored than him apparently. He would gladly let somebody take two pencils and stick them in his ears for the sake of it.
In times like this, he really appreciated being an Enforcer. Beating people was fun. If he wanted to be sitting in a fucking chair, having meetings, he would refuse the oath and go work as a business-fucking-man.
Not happening. But still.
"This one is directly addressed to you, Elio," said Gastone, getting his attention at last. Because if someone asked him about previous arrangements and decisions made since the meeting started two hours ago, he wouldn't say shit.
"What is it?"
"You will take care of Hunter Gordon personally. He already fucked around with us. I don't want it to happen again. He is a liability."
Calling someone a liability in the underworld was equal to ordering the kill. And Elio was up for the task, however, he couldn't see a single reason for such a decision. Yes, the man didn't want to pay at first but he did at last. Elio made sure that he would remember that and never do such a stupid thing again. They had a three-strike rule.
The Enforcer frowned. "Are you sure? He paid."
Gastone nodded. "And t
hat's why you are the one to talk to him. Make sure he remembers your face when Russian fuckers decide to approach him."
"Talk or talk?"
There was a huge ocean of difference. He would enjoy the killing, of course, however, he wouldn't mind playing games with the old man for a little bit longer. Especially since their first game landed him in the hospital with a few broken bones.
His Father grew annoyed. "Your decision. Just make sure it's the right one,"
Yes, well, that didn't settle the dispute. But he simply nodded, realizing that he would do whatever he pleased anyway. Over the last months, Hunter had paid on time and hadn't used one of his employees as a shield anymore. Which would be good, if not for the fact that: one - he really wanted to beat the shit out of the fucker for no apparent reason, two - he wouldn't mind seeing Savannah again. It was like she made it her purpose in life to avoid him.
Perhaps it was for the better.
* * *
§ § §
* * *
The diner was full. And for a good reason. It was lunchtime so people felt the need to leave their nine-to-five boring-ass jobs and eat something before going back. Elio was looking through the window, leaning against his car, thinking that he would not be able to fit in anywhere else that wasn't underground. Seeing others working for a minimum wage, without perspectives or thrills in their day to day lives would be his fucking nightmare.
He looked at the busy tables. There was a couple eating side by side, one glass of wine each, studiously bent over their meals. A group of young women in their thirties collapsing with helpless giggles as a stern woman dining alone kept on sneaking a look and frowning. Businessmen in their dark suits lighting up cigars.
