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Prologue
Matteo Giovanni Santaro
“I expect an answer. How are you going to get my money back?”
The entire round table stared at me in silence, each face trembling in fear or anger or whatever else they thought they were supposed to feel in response to my own fury.
“What are you going to do about it?” I pressed.
It didn’t matter. They were going to give me answers. Every last one of them.
“You see, Mr. Santaro,” the head of the bank began. I cut him off before he could even get started. He’d already made his first mistake.
“You will refer to me by my rightful title, Mr. Diego,” I warned him, and he stilled. I watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed his nerves. He was trying to be brave for the sake of his company, but that didn’t matter right now.
“Your portfolio, Your Majesty, you see it was a risky one. If it had been more diversified, perhaps we could have recovered much of your funds, but the world is entering the beginnings of a recession. Investing isn’t a science, but a gamble sometimes. In this case, it was a loss and there’s nothing we can do,” the manager tried to explain.
I cleared my throat.
“I don’t care what the reasoning is. Your firm advised me to make these investments and you will take responsibility for a loss of this magnitude. If you don’t, I will find someone else who will,” I warned.
“There’s simply nothing we can do for you, Your Majesty,” Diego continued, giving me his very best calming manager face. That wouldn’t work on me though.
I stood up from my chair. Angelo moved backwards, allowing me space to rise to my feet. He held a folder behind his back, but I didn’t need that. Not yet.
“It’s been a long time since I met with all of you in person, so perhaps you’ve forgotten how things work here. My family’s money founded this company and still to this day, accounts for well over fifty percent of your total holdings. I have the power to take this company and destroy it, simply by taking my accounts and bringing them elsewhere,” I began.
“Mr. Santaro, please,” Mr. Diego interrupted.
I took a deep breath and sighed, raising my hand and indicating for my men to give them the warning they so desperately needed.
A gunshot rang out, loud as it echoed off the walls all around us.
The bank manager screeched at the sound. The bullet grazed against his ear enough to leave a scratch and then lodged in the table in front of him. It wasn’t a killing blow by any means, but it was enough to send a message.
“I’ve already reminded you how you shall refer to me. Make that mistake again and the bullet will be right between your eyes,” I warned.
The angry faces turned fearful. Many of them I didn’t recognize, meaning that they were probably unfamiliar with the way I worked.
I held out my hand and Angelo passed me a folder. I took it, stood over the table, and opened it.
“I could replace every single one of you with the contents of this file. Inside it is the ruin of every person sitting at this table. Mr. Diego, yours is especially compelling. An affair that has resulted in a child that your wife knows nothing about. Let’s not forget about the embezzlement over the years either. Mrs. Smith, for you, tax fraud and a sordid affair of your own. And Mr. Santino, that’s quite the latex outfit, isn’t it?” I started.
The table was silent. No one said a word. They were terrified of me now.
Good. They were supposed to be.
“Now imagine if these pictures were to be sent to the press. Images of your deviant affairs and evidence of all of your crimes. Your company would drown in scandal. Every single one of you would lose your jobs and be blacklisted in the community for the rest of your measly lives. The value of your corporation would plummet, and I would purchase you for pennies on the dollar. I would replace every single one of you with people of my own, who wouldn’t hesitate to obey.”
“You can’t do this,” Diego challenged. He moved to stand up. Angelo handed me the gun.
I moved quickly, pushing down hard on his shoulder and forcing him back down in his seat.
“You have no idea what I can and can’t do, Mr. Diego,” I replied, pressing the barrel of the gun against the side of his head.
He didn’t say a word. He kept silent, which pleased me.
“I am a king. The rules of your world don’t apply to me and you would do well to remember that. I could pull the trigger right now and end your life and no one would come after me. You would disappear from all record. People would forget your name. You would cease to exist because my people would erase you. Do you want that?”
“No, Your Majesty,” he answered, his voice shaking with fear. He was getting the message now.
“Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to find a solution to the loss of my funds and you’re going to implement it quickly. You’re going to get me my money. Aren’t you, Mr. Diego?” I demanded.
