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Chapter Two
SALVATORE
As I hold the phone up to my ear, my legs leisurely up on another chair in the office, I keep my eyes on the ocean that seems much too calm and out of place for the conversation I am having. This time, I am speaking directly to the Russian government, one of my higher paying customers, though their jobs are always the dangerous ones. I feign boredom as I listen to the details on the hit they want to put on a U.S. Senator. Being neutral comes with the line of work.
Yes, I am a hit man. If you ask me, I am the best fucking hit man in the U.S. but I don’t feel the need to brag or say it out loud. The number of jobs I get speaks for itself.
An assassin, truly, is a better word for me. I don’t do things like these new age hillbillies. I am a trained, professional killer. I don’t hide it either, like many men would. No, because I know the weight of what I am and what it does for me to have everyone know.
Once they know I kill people for a living, then they know. They don’t fuck with me, no matter how powerful or rich or strong they think they are because they are too damn terrified of what I will do to them.
As they should be.
"As soon as I see the funds transfer, you have my word it will be done. It will not come back to you," I assure the Russians, my tone too serious for them to ignore. My name alone, Salvatore Moretti, rolls of the tongue with respect, but they know my reputation. I don’t fuck around here. This is my business, and I don’t intend to fail now.
As soon as I hang up the phone, I think I might get five minutes before I have to do anything else, but then it immediately rings again. I look at the caller i.d. and see that this time, it’s not a client at all. It’s my best friend, Marcellus Funar, who also just happens to be heir to the Funar mafia clan. These connections may or may not be another key to my success and intimidation, but I do truly care for the man.
"Marcel," I say happily into the receiver, glad to have what I believe to be a friendly call for once. But the moment he speaks, I know that’s not what this is at all. Some shit is going down, and it puts me on edge.
"I hate to call you just for a favor,prieten, but I don't have much time to spare right now. And it isde urgen?a." I can hear the stress in his tone, and this is a man that is hard to shake. I am sitting on the edge of my seat, sweat starting to form on my brow even though it is not the heat of the summer yet, and in fact, there is still rain in the forecast most days.
"Whatever you need, Marcel," I tell him, letting him know I am here.
"I need you to contact your guy," he tells me, his voice getting softer, so I barely make it out. I know exactly what he means. He needs my tracker. But who the hell is he tracking? This can’t be good.
"Why would you need his info; what’s happened?" I ask, my teeth gritted, nostrils flaring.
"Sal, she’s missing. Aria is gone. She hasn’t been seen in three days. But her social media is posting like she’s on some spontaneous, luxurious vacation in Brazil."
"I am guessing by the sounds of things, you know she is not in Brazil," I say, trying to remain calm. Aria is his sister, and there is a lot to gain by taking her, no matter who did it. And there is a lot to lose if no one finds her quickly. Three days already feels like a decade, and my heartbeat races at the thought.
"It’s total bullshit, Sal. Aria has been there once and hated the whole fucking trip. Not to mention I've had a friend look up her credit card transactions. She hasn’t used her card at all. That’s not what happens on a trip out of the country. She’d have to use it. I can’t put my finger on it, but something isn’t adding up right. I need to find my little sister."
His last words sound urgent, and I can almost feel how close this cold hard mafia leader is to cracking. Aria is a soft spot for him, and for good reason. He loves and protects her, and I can’t say she doesn’t bring any protectiveness out of me either. I have to find out what is going on for both their sakes.
"I will send everything to you. I will help you. If he has anything to tell you, keep me informed, Marcel," I tell him, but I know my guy, he'll tell me even if Marcel doesn’t. I am going to save Aria Funar.
