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My phone buzzed on my desk and I picked it up without glancing at the caller.
“Hello?”
“Hey, boss,” Silvio said. “How’s it going?”
I nodded stiffly, forgetting for a moment that Silvio wasn’t in the room to watch.
“I’ve had better mornings,” I said honestly. “We need to figure out a way to deal with that prick over at Magnate. The most recent shipment has been held up for days, and unless I act soon, it’s staying like that for some time. We’re bleeding money, Sil.”
“I know, I know,” Silvio said. “Look, I’m on my way over. I have some news.”
The last word struck my chest with fear. “What news?”
Silvio sighed. “I’ll be honest, boss,” he said slowly. “It ain’t good.”
I steadied myself with a hand against the back of my desk chair.
“Hurry up,” I barked into the phone. “I ain’t waiting around all morning just to hear some bad shit, Silvio.”
“Of course,” Silvio said. “I’ll be there in five.” He hung up without saying anything else. Normally, Silvio’s brusque demeanor would have irked me. But today, all I could think about was how to get out of this mess. Ever since Douglas’s son had started working at Magnate, I’d had shit like this to deal with during almost every delivery. The Amoruso family smuggled cocaine, heroin, and ecstasy with the help of Magnate shipping…and I needed to make sure I was getting the money that I deserved.
True to his word, Silvio showed up no more than five minutes later. I heard his heavy footsteps thundering through my home before his tentative, soft knock on the door.
“Sil, come in,” I called loudly, sitting down in my chair and grabbing a pen and paper. Over the past year of leading the Amoruso family, I’d learned to conceal my nervous ticks pretty well. I still didn’t feel like the head of a crime ring, but I was learning. My father would be ashamed, I thought as I glanced down at my right hand. It was shaking.
Silvio pushed the heavy office door and strode in, hands clasped in front of his wide belly. He was wearing a grey flannel suit with the first two buttons of his shirt unfastened. A tuft of silvery-grey hair stuck out, against the stark tan skin of his chest.
Silvio leaned down in a respectful bow. He was my father’s age – early sixties –and because of a lifetime of drinking and partying, he looked it. He looked like he’d aged ten years overnight – especially around his eyes.
“Boss, I’m sorry to tell you,” Silvio said heavily. “But we lost two men last night.”
“What the fuck?” I narrowed my eyes. “What the fuck happened?”
Silvio sighed. “I know,” he said. “We had men go over to Magnate, try to soften Douglas up. But Douglas stood firm – said you owe him somewhere in the neighborhood of a cool three million.”
Blood inflamed my face and I glared angrily. “That’s fucking horseshit,” I muttered. “You know I don’t know that old man shit!”
“I know,” Silvio said. He shrugged casually. “It ain’t about that, Alessio. You know that as well as I do.”
I glared at him. “Then what the fuck is this about?” I rolled my eyes, feeling anger tear through my body with astonishing precision. I felt like my veins were inflamed with rage, like I could tear a block of concrete in two pieces just because of the anger controlling me.
“You know what it’s about,” Silvio said evenly. He met my eyes with his intense gaze and I didn’t back down at the black look in his eyes.
“I don’t know what that fuckin’ means,” I growled.
“He’s testing you, Alessio,” Silvio said. He shook his head sadly from side to side. “Your old man didn’t take no shit from Douglas, and now that Gianni’s gone, he’s tryin’ to mess with you. It ain’t abo
ut what you owe him or don’t owe him. It’s about him thinkin’ he can push you around to get a higher rate.”
The anger intensified and I growled as the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Nothing made me angrier than knowing that someone was trying to fuck with me because they didn’t think I’d retaliate. I wasn’t my father – I was my own man, and Douglas Bennett was going to learn that as soon as possible.
“We gotta do something,” I said, leaning forward and closing my eyes. I tried to think – how could I hurt Douglas? He was rich – even richer than me – and powerful. But he had to have a weak spot…
“He just got a new wife,” Silvio said. He smirked. “Some bitch he bought from eastern Europe. She’s a real slut. You thinkin’ something to do with her?”
I shook my head. “He goes through women like some people go through tissues,” I said dismissively. “That ain’t gonna be enough to make him take me seriously. Plus, it’s the most obvious option.”
Silvio nodded. “What about a little…destruction of property?” His dark lips curled into a smirk. “You think he’d be hurting real bad if one of those warehouses suddenly blew up.”
