“Aye, take this shit with you.”
Reluctantly, I looked over my shoulder to see that he was pointing at the suitcase. Sighing softly, I walked back and picked up the unfamiliar luggage, rolling it out of the room.
“One of these days, I’mma gonna blow that fuckers brains out the back of his fucking head,” Buddha mumbled as we walked toward my custom designed bullet proof range rover.
“Forget, Edwardo, for now. I think I know what happened to the money. It has to do with my driver, Lewis Marcano. I’ll have Lorenzo bring him to me. Meanwhile, you get this Dior person, who this suitcase belongs to. When you have her in your possession…call me.”
I got into the backseat as my son got into the driver’s seat to take me back to the house. I felt the anger in me begin to rise because the driver I had hired about two years ago thought I was one to fuck with. As Buddha started the engine and we drove off, I got on my phone to make some calls.
“Yes, Boss,” my main man Lorenzo answered on the first ring.
“That driver, the fairly new one. Lewis Marcano, find that mothafucka, and when you do tie his ass up and put him in thestanza buia, (the dark room.) Let me know when you have him.” I didn’t wait for a reply; I just hung up the phone. I hated dealing with stupid shit, and this was definitely one of them.
“You want me to just take care of the girl when I find her?” Buddha’s question invaded my thoughts.
“No, bring her to me. I need her to make her father understand that nobody steals from me,” my son nodded his head before he focused on the road. My phone started ringing, and I saw it was my wife. I answered immediately.
“Amore mio, (my love).”
“We’re out of milk. Can you get some on your way home?” Victoria Ricci’s voice always calmed me.
“Sure thing, baby,” I said before hanging up the phone. “We need to stop by the nearest grocery store to get something for your mother before we handle business,” I told my son about the detour we had to make. He nodded his head in agreement because he understood that family always came first. The love of family was a big deal to us Italian men. This was why I made a pact with that devil Edwardo. It protected Buddha, and I would go to extreme lengths to make sure nobody ever harms the people I love.
Chapter Two- Dior
I narrowed my eyes at the carry-on as I placed it on my bed. Something seemed off about my luggage.
“Does my shit feel heavier?” I spoke out loud to nobody inside my bedroom. I had just gotten back from a two-day trip with my friend Mia. We were both part-time models and had just gotten back from a weekend job. My stepfather, Lewis, picked me up from the airport. Mia’s mother picked her up, so we left separately. Five minutes later, after he got me, my stepfather’s phone rang; it was his boss demanding he deliver the package in his trunk.
My stepfather hurriedly dropped me off, opening the trunk of his boss’s vehicle, and he handed me my carry-on that I now realize may not be mine. Curiously, I inspected it and saw it had no visible locks. So I unzipped it slowly, wondering what I was about to see. A loud gasp escaped my lips, and my hand flew up to my mouth as I stared at the contents inside.
“What the fuck?” I muttered with wide eyes. There was an abundance of cash inside. I’ve never seen so much money in my life. I reached for a stack and picked it up. Flipping the bills in a fan-like manner, trying to mentally calculate how much money I was holding. The only answer I came up with was a lot.
“Jesus,” I dropped the bills back inside the suitcase and immediately reached for my phone in my back pocket. I stepped away from my bed as I waited for my stepfather to pick up.
“Good Lord, Dior, I just dropped you off. What can you possibly need on such short notice?” My stepfather answered, sounding flustered. Too bad for him, I was about to make his day even worse.
“Umm, I hate to break this to you, but this isn’t my luggage you handed me,” I stated, scratching my forehead.
“What? What does that even mean?”
“It means just what I said. This is not my bag,” I told him, pointing at the suitcase with the cash.
“Well, did you somehow grab the wrong bag at the airport?” Lewis asked, sounding irritated by a mistake that wasn’t mine.
“Nope, just before you picked me up, I unlocked the suitcase so I could get something inside. So, I know I had the correct carry-on. This suitcase, by the way, is filled with money,” I whispered the word money and looked around my bedroom as if I expected someone to be hiding in here.
“Oh fuck!” Lewis exclaimed. “I’ll be right there,” before I could ask further questions, he hung up the phone. I pulled the device away from my ear and looked at it, confused.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked absolutely nobody. I dialed my friend’s number to fill her in on the madness.
“Hey girl, I literally just walked into my apartment,” Mia-Lee answered on the third ring.
“Girl, you wouldn’t believe this, but I’m staring at a shitload of cash in my carry-on as we speak.” I wasted no time getting to the point.
“Come again?” Mia asked, obviously confused by what I said.
“I somehow got the wrong suitcase and this one’s filled with nothing but stacks and stacks of money,” I explained, walking over to the bed so I could touch the hundred-dollar bills again.
