Frank, a short man with a precisely trimmed moustache and a blue bandanna that lived around his forehead spoke first, “Any idea what’s about to go down?” he muttered in a heavily accented tongue, hisI ‘m-certain-it’s-going-to-be-a-bloodbathvoice turned up to the max.
Bruno shook his head. “Nope. Castillo’s royally pissed, I know that much.”
Blade snickered “Hell, murderous is more like it!”
“Shit, this doesn’t sit right with me,” Bruno grumbled. If there was anything that got on Bruno’s last nerve it was secrets, things he didn’t know but felt he should.
Frank huffed. “Every fuckin’ day there’s something else. Same shit, different day.”
“I don’t know. Castillo sounded more pissed than I’ve ever heard him before,” Bruno commented. “And you know what he’s like, that man can’t see past his damn emotions when something gets him all pent up.”
Blade checked the time on his phone. “We gonna go inside or what?”
Bruno nodded. He gestured towards the door and followed his brothers towards the entrance. The goon doorman ? muscle-bound and strapped with a shoulder weapon- slid the deadbolt aside and bashed a signal with his knuckles to the other side. Receiving his cue, his associate, with both enormous hands, turned each of the three locking handles on the steel door ? the only way in and out of the Castillo Crime Family’s building. The goon on the outside, who had maybe a hundred pounds on Bruno, nodded in De Luca’s direction with a stare that held all kinds of menace. As if he might rip his cock and balls off if Bruno even looked at him in a way he didn’t like.
Slapping his palm against the metal door, the big brute seethed in Bruno’s direction.
Does he have a death wish?Sighing, De Luca stared straight ahead and fisted his fingers as he passed the ugly bastard to keep from blowing up. As if Bruno would even be the slightest bit cautious around this caveman asshole.No bitch!A smirk tore through his stern expression, amused by this guy’s moxy.
The three men entered the room and saw the guys gathered inside the building. Some were dressed in heavy-fleece workman’s jackets, some in suits, black, navy blue, and grey as usual.
Snarling, the heavy ape slammed the door shut behind them.
Yep, fuck you too, bitch!
The common room was very noisy this morning. Everyone had been speculating what was happening.
As always, Bruno stood for a moment to take in the atmosphere of the place. The large room appeared to be spotless, dustless and in perfect order. The scent of cigars and whiskey permeated the air in the room. Trendy retro lights hung from the towering ceilings and the enormous meeting table just ahead of him. The bar ran along the wall to his right, where the girls loved to serve them drinks. Yet, the best part of this place was what you couldn’t see. The spiraling, rickety staircase at the end of the room leading to the basement ? the gym and boxing ring. In truth, it was more like a dungeon than a gym. Three boxing stands and a pro-sized sparring ring. The place smelled of sweat and aerosol sprays. A vending machine stood against one wall and a water machine at the corner. Three screened overhead lights provided the only illumination. But Bruno loved it. He was as light as air on his feet, and they held fights there every weekend to take the edge off. When Bruno’s crazy flag was flying, there was nothing like going savage and punching the hell out of someone like a pitbull cut up on crack, to find his come down.
It took all of five seconds for his best friend Antonio ? Toni to appear out of the shadows and come marching over. “Bruno, how you doing?” His voice sounded gruff, making him sound scarier than he really was. Toni was a burly man, with a long ass beard that women found ruggedly handsome. Whatever the fuck that was about? And a scar right down one side of his face. A sly little sonofabitch, amoral as hell, but a real stand up guy to his family.
Bruno had met Antonio in his first week here. An almost instant rapport made them friends. With a nose that had seen too many bone-cracking fist fights, he was a scary looking motherfucker but he was a talker, not a fighter. Not unless you pushed his damn wrong buttons.
“What? You missed me you goddamn pussy?” Bruno laughed, slapping his friend hard over the side of the head. Why Bruno loved this man like a blood brother was beyond him. Perhaps because they’d faced so many life and death situations together. Perhaps it was the isolation after losing his father and effectively, his brother too. In any case, he’d sworn to keep the world at an arm’s length when his father’s best friend betrayed him so absolutely. But as it turned out, they made a good team. Working side by side, the two men had hit it off early on, to eventually become best friends. It might sound foolish. Especially with all the backstabbing assholes, he’d come across in the mob. Then again, Bruno was an excellent judge of character, rarely wrong. His judgment had gotten him this far. He wasn’t dead yet.
Grinning like a bitch ass Cheshire cat, Antonio jogged across to one of the tables and pulled together a few chairs around it.
At that moment, Marco came out of the John and Antonio collided a chair with the other man’s knees. “Fuck!” he roared.
“Shit. Sorry, brother.” Antonio smiled and stepped back.
“Coulda’ fooled me, shithead! Now move out of my fucking way,” Marco demanded. Needless to say, he didn’t like Antonio, didn’t see his good side. Marco had only been in America a little over three months. He hadn’t wanted to leave Italy, but when Bruno heard about prestigious Internship at a local firm for Charlie, he and Marco left Italy behind them, seeking the great experience and prospects it offered.
Yeah, Marco was still out of sorts as he missed Italy like crazy.
And he’d never liked Antonio and that was fair enough. After all, Toni was a smooth-talking conman with a perpetual smile as phony as his promises. He was also a dark horse candidate for mob boss when Castillo retired in a few years, Bruno thought so anyway, he couldn’t see Castillo’s little fairy princess of a son going for the job. Like it or not, Toni was the man for the job, and the only man on this earth Bruno would step aside for. And you don’t become the boss by being liked. For the most part though, Castillo’s motley crew got along without too much bloodshed. After all, they were in this together, weren’t they?
Bruno lifted his chin at his cousin and then turned his attention back to where the guys were standing. Searching the room, his gaze found the boss ? an ice-cold, vicious man, who kept his face out of the limelight ? his eyes perpetually shielded by black shades. A killer’s eyes lived behind those shades. Bruno didn’t have to second guess that the Brianni suit he was wearing cost more than three months’ rent for Bruno.
Castillo was a real old school gangster. The classic image from the movies, smoking cigars in a black overcoat, hat to match and his shirt buttoned up to the top. He looked like a boss, acted like a boss. In his early sixties by this time, but you’d never know it. Not unless he was making a plea to the judge and jury as a man too old and sickly to be guilty of any crime. Yeah, he’d done that two, or three or fifteen times before. His expression was always the same. Stern. Formal. Suspicious. Today, it was different.
Angrier. Malevolent.
In one look, in one glance, Bruno knew Castillo wanted blood.
A ball of dread unfurled in his gut, making him glad he wore a gun in his belt. It was against mob rules to bring a weapon to meetings. Fuck it, the motherfucking rules can suck a dick today. He was nobody’s fool. Joining Antonio at the table, he dropped onto a wooden chair, keeping Castillo in his periphery.
Castillo was one of the only men on this earth Bruno was afraid to cross. He didn’t earn the moniker, the Cutter, for nothing. Over a hundred kills to his name, he wasn’t the sort you’d turn your back on. He was utterly ruthless, and everyone knew he’d have you killed in a heartbeat if you gave him reasonable cause. Bruno realized something else as well. Castillo looked agitated like his inner-self was going batshit crazy, he looked more crazed than he’d ever seen him.
