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I can’t wait until it’s time for his reelection. He will be out on his ass before he can blink. I love that Wyatt thinks he has something on me. When the fact of the matter is, I have so much shit on him that I could have him arrested right now if I wanted to. But I’ll save that for another day. As it stands, his position is helpful to me, but that will be over soon enough.
***
The night has been extremely long, especially since all of the guests took their time leaving the party. However, once they left for the night, my men were ready for the expected attack.
We made over two million dollars with all the gambling that happened tonight. The money we collected tonight went out the back door with the caterers. It’s a perk of having cousins who cater to all your needs. It’s the Italian way to have a relative for everything.
That was one of the many reasons I told Egypt to use DeLuca resources for this party. And I have my men discreetly working the party all night. They are part of the wait staff, the parking attendants, the caterers, the blackjack dealers, hell, almost all the workers at the party are part of my crew.
However, the most valuable member of my crew is masquerading as a Mancini minion. The fact that we were able to get a man inside their family operation is crazy.That’s why it is imperative to have loyal people around you at all times.
People are greedy and will plot against you, so it’s imperative that they are loyal, and as a leader, you must take care of everyone around you, whether they are family or not. If you don’t, there can be deadly repercussions. That’s why I can’t figure out if I have a leak in my crew or if Mancini stumbled upon the information about the party tonight.
It takes about another hour for the fools to try to make their move. They didn’t even make it past the back gate. The idiots were dressed in all black combat gear like they were ready for war, but obviously, they were just playing dress up.
Once the house was secured, the men moved the captured crew to an offsite warehouse. It’s specifically made for instances such as these. The cleanup is easy, and the soundproof interior and the remote location make it the perfect place to question and dispose of our enemies.
Mario pulls up to the back, and I hop out of the car and stroll to the door. This won’t be a questioning session like two years ago when we caught the hitmen. These men will be the example. They will show their boss, as well as any other motherfucker who wants to try us, that the DeLuca’s are not to be fucked with.
When I enter, there are several men tied up and blindfolded. My men are standing quietly by, waiting for any command I may have, but I plan on taking care of this shit myself.
The Mancini family has tested my patience for the last time. I’ve been at war with Salvador Mancini since he tried to kill me. I can’t ever get close enough to the asshole to end this shit for good, but as soon as I get his whereabouts, he’s a dead man.
“Which one of you is the leader of this ragtag group?” I question the sniveling men.
When nobody speaks up, I snap my fingers, and I’m immediately handed a gun. I shoot the closest goon in the knee, and I ask my question once again.
“The leader motherfuckers? I don’t have all night.”
“Fuck you.” One of the men says, then spits on the floor. And I nod.
I shoot all the rest of the men in the head and watch as their bodies drop to the floor— the bravery leaks right out of the man that had so much bravado two seconds ago.
“Since you have so much to say. I choose you.” I walk toward the man and rip his blindfold off his face.
“Y-y-you choose me for what?”
It’s funny when death stares a man in the face how quickly he realizes his mortality. I can easily shoot this motherfucker, but I won’t. I need to send a message.
“I choose you as my message to Mancini and the rest of these assholes that think they can fuck with me. Untie him.”
My men follow my orders and untie the man in front of me as I take off my jacket and as well as my dress shirt. I can tell he’s confused at first, but my motives will become clear.
I motion for the man to hit me, “give me your best shot.”
The man looks around with determination on his face before he balls up his fists. I can tell by his large stature and his fighting stance that he’s probably had some sort of training. He’s not just a street thug. I’m glad, and maybe he’ll give me a challenge so I can get some of this frustration out.
We square up and begin to circle each other. He throws the first punch, and it lands me square in my jaw. I smile and spit a little bit of blood out. I crack my neck from side to side. This is just what I need.
We trade a few hits, and my men start to get into it. They start to cheer and whistle, and I feel like I’m back in the ring. I dodge a few more body shots before I go to town on the man’s face and head. He falls to the ground and tries to cover his head. But it’s too late for that, those hits were lethal, and if he were to survive, which he won’t, he would’ve had permanent brain damage.
I feel the crunch of his ribs when I give him a body shot, but I continue to beat him until he stops moving. There’s no mercy for the enemy.
“Drop him off at the Mancini’s residence.” I run my hands through my hair and let out a deep breath.
The man is beaten to a pulp, and they will get the message by his battered and bruised body. Giovanni DeLuca is coming!
