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Giancarlo
PLAYLIST: ? LIFE OF THE PARTY - THE WEEKND ?
La Pergola isthe last public engagement for the rest of the week. I cancel the others. I don’t give a shit about meeting up with the mayor or any entertainment mogul. All of them prefer my brother to me. Why should I play the stupid social games when it’s a waste of my time?
I don’t care about any of these people. My purpose is to replicate my brother’s success—prove I can be just as good as him running Sin City. Everything else is unnecessary.
My men from back east arrive and the last of my brother’s crew depart. The only one remaining is Fozzi. Though I’ve kept him, I’ll be on the lookout for any sign he’s disloyal. His allegiance may very well still be with Giovanni.
“Giancarlo,” he says one afternoon. We tour the Vittoria, stopping by different sections like our cash office and underground armory. “The shipment from the Peña’s has come in. We’ll be able to distribute into the local clubs as necessary.”
Earlier in the week I struck a deal with the Peña Cartel for their party drug known as Cherry in club circles. Over the course of the next few months we’ll be distributing the euphoric drug to partiers in clubs all over the city.
Nobody has the level of lawless outreach as our operation (it helps when you have city officials in your back pocket). The cartel recognizes this, and has been all too happy to do business.
“I want a few doses set aside,” I say as we step into an elevator.
Fozzi’s brow furrows. “As in…saved for you?”
“You don’t get to ask what it’s for. You are too comfortable questioning my leadership. Correct yourself or you won’t be around much longer.”
I leave Fozzi blinking like a fool in the hallway outside my office. I’ve no patience to deal with his questions.
The Cherry will serve its purpose soon enough. It’s been days since I issued my threat to Falynn in one of the casino restrooms. Tonight I intend on proving I’m a man of my word. The worst part will be that she’ll gladly oblige. She’ll do as I say. She won’t have any choice.
My cell phone rings and I impatiently answer, expecting Papa or Claro. Instead, some nasally prick who identifies himself as a property lawyer is on the other end.
“Is this Giancarlo Sorrentino I’m speaking with?”
“Make it fast,cazzo. I don’t have time,” I grit out.
It’s the truth. Between fitting in another hit so I don’t lose my mind and plans for tonight, there’s no time for dealing with stupidity. Fozzi tested me enough as is.
“I wanted to go over the properties you stand to inherit in the wake of your brother’s passing,” he says.
“I’m aware. It was discussed at the will reading. Do not waste my time calling me again—”
“But, Mr. Sorrentino, that’s just it,” he interrupts with a warble in his voice. I’m making him nervous. “There’s an additional property that’s come to our attention. One your brother recently purchased.”
I roll my eyes as I sit down at my desk and withdraw the coke stashed in my desk. I’ll have to multitask. The lawyer prattles on and on about the property that’s outside the city and deep in the desert. I halfheartedly listen between doing lines. At some point, Fozzi knocks and delivers the Cherry I’ve requested for tonight.
With Falynn on my mind, I smirk, and inhale. I barely hear a word beyond thoughts about my plans for the evening.
I’ve arranged a candlelit dinner on the rooftop of the Vittoria. The staff have been instructed on what to serve and when. Falynn’s been delivered a designer dress courtesy of Givenchy. A make-up artist and hair stylist were both slated to help her get ready for our special dinner.
Romance is not something I partake in by choice, but in situations where it is socially necessary. My ex-fiancé Fiona often requested empty romantic gestures like roses and jewelry. I obliged in order to make our relationship seem as normal as others expect; to prove to Pa I could settle down and produce an heir to his heir.
But after our little romantic outings, I’d say goodnight to Fiona and then go on another bender. Drunk or high, many times both, I’d find whatever easy whores were available for the night. I’d bring them to a hotel, fuck their brains out, and come sunlight, sober up to what happened. Often, they’d left their pretty faces on the pillowcases. In disgust, I’d kick them out.
If Fiona ever knew, she didn’t care. Most wives in the family turn a blind eye. So long as the money keeps flowing and their lifestyle remains the same, they consider it none of their business.
But tonight’s different with Falynn.
As I ride the private elevator up to the top floor, this isn’t about carrying on a fake relationship to appease Pa.
This is about taking what was once my brother’s and making it mine. My brother held similar views on women and their only use, but he’d fallen for Falynn—he’d treated her as a real romantic interest.
Call it a new twisted level of jealousy and competition between siblings. Say I am sick in the head, and fucked up for wanting to do what I’m doing. It doesn’t change my deep, growing urge to take my brother’s woman and ruin her forever in his eyes.
