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I abandon my workout and answer my phone. Tito is on the phone. He too oversees a warehouse. Maybe there’s a new development I’m not aware of.
“Tito. What’s up?”
“The Don wants to see you.”
“Cool. Where?” I drop the jump rope into my duffle bag.
“At the office.”
“When? I’m meeting with the team in a few hours to go over the shipment for tonight.”
“Capo, the Don wants to see you.” His voice is cold, and the finality of his words hits me. I’m not supposed to argue.
“Right, I’ll be there in twenty.”
I make it there in ten, dressed in the expected uniform black suit. I let my hair grow out just to mix that shit up. The Don doesn’t care for it, but he doesn’t say anything about it because I handle whatever tasks he gives me. I bounce past the guards and take the elevator to the second floor.
The Don works out of a warehouse that’s close to the city and the docks. He has a helipad on the roof and a fleet of vehicles in the garage out back.
The doors slide open to the second floor. Girls in skimpy dresses carry bags around. Armed guys mill around, all familiar faces. I knock on the private door, and it opens right away.
Tito holds the door open and steps aside for me to get in. Unlike other times, he doesn’t say a word of greeting and doesn’t flash a friendly smile.
In one corner of the room, Giorgio sits at a conference table. There’s an unlit cigar between his fingers and a spread of pills and powders on the table before him. I peer into his brown eyes and realize they are sharp and sober.
For a man who pushes so many drugs, it’s remarkable that Giorgio never pops or sniffs anything. His drugs of choice are women and money.
“Why did you betray me?” Giorgio says coldly. He’s not looking at me, and that’s a bad sign.
I always knew this moment would come. That point when he would find out that I had been up to some shit that went against his business. The moment of truth is here.
“Why would I ever do that? You know I wouldn’t do that.” My voice is relaxed as the lies roll off my tongue.
Deep inside, I’m already calculating how to get out of this situation.
Giorgio finally looks at me, his eyes piercing like a sharp knife. His crooked nose flares, and his fingers squeeze around the cigar. It creates a mental image of a fat man getting squashed by the elevator door due to some malfunction. A less courageous man would probably be sweating all over and struggling with shriveling balls. But I’ve been face-to-face with death too many times to be scared of any man, even the don.
My face remains a resolute mask, my voice an epitome of calm.
“You know how I hate lies. Why don’t you tell me the truth?” Giorgio gets up. He’s slightly shorter than me, but his massive girth makes him formidable.
“I’m not lying. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I insist. I know what he’s talking about though, but I’m struggling to believe he has found me out already.
Giorgio strides toward me. His stance is belligerent. He takes his phone out of his breast pocket and turns it to me. On the screen is the exact scene I hoped he would never see. The video shows me shaking hands with Francesco after the planned ambush.
It was the last human merchandise project I did. I ensured it was botched because I refused to turn over the young girls. But how did Giorgio get the footage?
My mouth goes dry. I’ve tried to escape the mafia for some time, but it has proved an impossible mission. I feel stuck with this guy and his evil empire.
Pockets of rebellion here and there kept me going, but now this is the end. The end of my mafia journey and possibly the end of my life.
“The only reason I made you the Capo was because of our family ties. I didn’t expect you to stab me in the fucking back.” Giorgio stands within arm’s reach.
I mentally count the number of guards trying to find a way out of here alive without a piece.
“I should have them light your ass up,” Giorgio smiles. “Now’s the time to convince me not kill you for fucking with my business.”
I maintain a calm disposition. I’m not about to beg no man for my life. He’s not fucking god.
