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I can feel all the rage I’ve been harboring boiling up to the surface. The disappearance of and possible betrayal by my brother Luca. The chaos going on with work that led to three of my men getting arrested in that disastrous deal last weekend.
I would say I normally have a level of anger that I can manage. It probably even helps me do my job better. I can control it, and it gives me energy, fuels me, makes me focus on what it takes to get the job done. Lately, it feels like I’m going to lose control of it though. I know I need a way to work it off. Someone to work it off on. I guess I should be grateful Vinny is such a shady fucker after all. Or at least that he’s bad enough at it to get himself caught by Enzo instead of the feds.
At the bottom of the stairs, I pass through another heavy curtain and into theregularVIP section. This one is much busier.
I walk out to the dance floor. Instinctively, people move out of my way. I’m focused on the other side of the club where I see Vinny talking to a group of girls sitting at a booth. They don’t even look 18, never mind old enough to drink.
I step up behind him. “We need to talk,” I growl.
Vinny’s spine straightens at the sound of my voice. He slowly turns around. He looks at me, then quickly glances to his right. It’s not fight or flight. He knows he should run. But he also knows no one can help him now.
“Hey! You can’t take to him like that!” one of the girls in the booth cries, trying to stand up. “He runs this club! Vinny, throw him out!”
This makes me smile. Vinny’s a foot shorter than me and a hundred pounds lighter. I’d love to see him try to throw me out. “He mayrunthis club,” I reply without taking my eyes off Vinny, “but he doesn’townit.”
Vinny holds up his hand to the girls and signals them to sit back down. “It’s alright. This is just a friend of mine,” he tells them. They look suspicious but settle down anyway.
“Get them out of here,friend,” I seethe. “We need to talk.”
I step aside and wait by the booth as Vinny convinces the girls that they need to leave. A couple of them glare at me as they’re leaving, clearly pissed that I’ve ruined their night. I smile and nod back at them. “Have a good evening, ladies.”
When they’ve left, Vinny turns back to me, trying to play it cool. “Hey, Mateo. Glad to see you. What brings you out tonight?”
“Not here. In the office.”
Vinny nods nervously. “Yeah, sure. No problem.”
I gesture for him to head up to the office and I follow behind him. He keeps glancing to the side as he walks. I can almost see the gears working in his mind. He’s trying to calculate how much I know, how screwed he is.
When we get in the office, Vinny sees Enzo sitting on the edge of the desk polishing a Glock and an empty chair in the middle of the room. His eyes widen. He knows he’s screwed now.
“H-hey Enzo,” Vinny blurts out. “Mateo, uh, what’s going on?” He eyes the chair nervously, trying to stay close to the door.
“Sit.” I point to the empty chair.
“Hey, man. Is there a problem?” He turns and looks at me. Fear in his eyes. He knows he’s fucked. He’s licking his lips, grasping at the hope that he can weasel his way out of this.
He doesn’t move toward the chair, but continues talking. “Yeah, yeah. Okay. Yeah,” He holds up his hands as if to hold me at a distance. “Those girls shouldn’t have been here. Yeah, they-they were underage. It won’t happen again. I swear on my mother’s Bible.” Vinny makes the sign of the cross on his chest as he shakes his head.
“Sit!” I yell, pushing him to the chair. He stumbles backward and falls onto the chair, nearly knocking it over. He pulls himself up onto the seat, flinching away from me as I move closer, towering over him.
“What was your job here?” I ask.
“My job? You-You wanted me to run…to, um, to manage the club,” Vinny whimpers. He glances over his shoulder at Enzo.
“Look at me,” I say. I crouch down until my face is level with his. “And what were the rules?”
“To… to… run a clean club,” he stutters.
“And what would happen if you didn’t?” I ask.
Vinny’s breathing heavily now. Almost sobbing.
“You… you… you… said you’d… you…” He can’t do it. He can’t acknowledge what is about to happen to him. “Man! They were almost 18. None of them were under 16, I swear. I won’t ever do it again. I didn’t hurt them! We’re good, man,” he whines.
“Have you run a clean club?” I ask.
Vinny whimpers and looks back to Enzo.
