Page 2 of Mafia Daddy

My art collection is probably the only concession I make to filling the place with a personal touch. That might make it sound cold or even an unpleasant place to live, but it’s just the way I’ve always done things. I don’t need material items, and never have done.

I have a reliable watch for keeping time.

I have a modest collection of well-tailored clothes.

I have a secure and private residence to live.

Oh, and I have a fast, compact sports car should I ever need to leave in a hurry and not look back.

It always amazes me when I see other pakhans across the city flaunt their wealth and power like it’s some kind of mark of success. The kind of people who will be impressed by five thousand dollar bottles of champagne, elaborate clothes, or ridiculously ostentatious sports cars are not the kind of people I want to attract. Quite the opposite.

My kind of ally will be understated. They will go about their business quietly and without causing a scene. Pakhans and rising generals who want nothing more than to show off and display their money are rarely the kind of men you can trust when blood is in the air.

Trust me, I’ve learned that the hard way.

I know that when money and status start to take over, a man’s ego can spin out of control with dire consequences. I’ve lost good men to that curse, through no fault of their own but down to the poor decisions of egotistical men above them.

My soldiers and generals know that they might die under my command.

But it will never, ever be because of my ego.

I never ask one of my men to do something that I wouldn’t do myself.

And that is a principle that I will live and die by if necessary.

“Tick, tock, tick, tock,” I whisper, looking at my watch once more.

All I want is to receive word that the Lentini family have agreed to our new territorial split…

It is a fair deal.

A tough deal, yes.

But fair.

I negotiated the terms of the deal myself along with my most trusted advisors, two men who have the breadth of wisdom and intellect that would be enough to run any multinational or tech company in the world with ease.

On the one side I have Kobek, my cousin. Ten years older than me, Kobek is a deep thinker. Once an assassin, he has long retired his gun and now advises me on all matters strategic. And he is as ruthless in negotiations as he was with his silenced pistol.

In my other ear, I have Michael Harrington. A Yale law graduate with a fiery temper, Michael knows how to push a deal over the line. Tough, uncompromising, and with a heart so strong it means he won’t ever give up, Michael is one man I can always rely on in the toughest of times.

Both Michael and Kobek can be trusted. And that in itself is a prize worth its weight in gold. Over the years I have seen many so-called allies fall by the wayside either through a lack of courage, flaky heart, or even on occasion a streak of treachery. But I know that with my two most trusted associates, I’m well covered.

And speaking of Michael…

“Talk to me,” I say, taking my phone out of my pocket and answering immediately.

I listen as Michael delivers the news. The Lentini family have agreed to the deal. But that’s not all…

“Interesting,” I continue, my voice cold and calculated but my heart skipping a beat. “It shows their commitment. But… Michael, you think we can trust them?”

I listen to Michael and don’t hear a single flicker of doubt in his voice. He believes the Lentini family are genuine in their agreement to the deal, and also genuine in their demonstration of good faith.

A boy.

Given as a gift, but intended as a sign of loyalty and a desire to make this transaction cast iron. I’m no fool. I know he could be a spy, or even an assassin. And that is why I will be keeping him close and on the tightest of tight leashes…

I wake up the next morning and slide out of bed in nothing but a pair of silky boxer briefs. My head is still a little cloudy as I walk over toward the wall to wall windows and open the heavy curtains to the panoramic view of the city.