When my father took over from his father, he had lived and ruled by their standing laws, but when I was old enough to have my own signature, he changed everything, using my name,Elio Marino, the mastermind behind their new affairs, the man who told his father it would be wise to call in capos from other families, the man whom no one sees, the man who reformed the grand society amongst our capos, including other caporegimes from influential families in neighboring European countries, as per my father’s hand.
This new information was taking up a larger space in myhead, and I did not like it. It left a bad taste on my tongue, and I most certainly did not have the time or the space to give it more attention than absolutely necessary.
“So.” I straightened my glasses. “The council needs my signature to allow the shipment a safe passage.”
“Exactly, sir,” Armato spoke.
The papers stated that the contents in the containers weren’t in danger of tainting the family name, and it was tagged as “normal cargo,” the same tag they’ve been using for decades.
I sighed, looking over at Angelo.
“We have more pressing matters. This is MCSS business; there’s not much we can do unless you decide to conduct a full-scale investigation, which might take months. I checked the documents beforehand, and they are more or less the same format as their previous shipments,” he stated.
I looked back at Armato, picking up my pen, uncapping it. “Extend my message to your chairman; tell him that the next time he decides to interrupt my time without proper preparations, I will be changing a lot of rules. It would be kind to include the important notion that it is a threat I intend to follow through on.”
Receding Hairline swallowed, straightening like a rod. “Yes, sir, I will do exactly that.”
The second I placed the pen to paper, a small chaos at the entrance stopped my hand. I frowned, raising my head at the familiar voice before I saw her approaching, hair straightened and styled with a bang, half pulled up in a short ponytail, and half left down. It confirmed my realization that her hair had grown a few inches longer than its normal length.
She wore an oversized sweater tucked upward to showcase half of her stomach and waist. Her legs were covered with white oversized pants, and she wore white boots. Like she was preparing to go out, with a stylish pair of glasses resting perfectly atop her hair.
Soldiers rushed after her like they were trying to stop her, but it was too late; she was already here.
“Oh.” She grinned, looking around us as everyone at the table turned to look at her; soldiers around the lounge stepped forward in a move to contain her. “The boy band together again. No wonder these gentlemen didn’t want me in here.”
One of the soldiers moved to grab her hand, but she was quick to swing it from his reach, turning her gaze to his. “Touch me and lose a hand. I am skilled when it comes to mutilating; remember that.”
I sighed, raising my hand to put them at ease.
“What is the meaning of this?” Casmiro spoke loudly, his voice laced with anger and irritation.
Zahra turned toward us again, approaching with a carefree grin, hips swaying, her confidence at its peak. “Hi, Cassie, I see you’re back and feeling better; I did not miss seeing you healthy, just so you know,” she said, slapping his shoulder before raising her gaze to Angelo. “Hi, Angie.” She acknowledged him with a smile before her bright eyes settled on Armato, who looked confused at the change in the situation. “Hi, man I don’t know.”
And then she moved behind me, her arms coming around my shoulders in a hug from behind, lips smacking against my cheek. “Hola, my pretty-eyed boyfriend who never checks his phone for text messages, thereby forcing me to go through the extra hassle of coming all the way here, interrupting his meeting, for which he cannot get angry at me because I texted almost ten times. I think my thumb broke.”
“Boy—what?” Casmiro asked with a wide-eyed, horrified look on his face.
“What’s the matter, Cassie? Gunshots messed with your ears?” she asked, her voice closer to my ear, her perfume softening my senses.
“E, what the fuck is this?” Casmiro asked, spine straight, ready to tackle the trouble behind me.
I let out a breath, dropping the pen as I removed her arms from around me, pulling her to my side and meeting her stubborn gaze. “Can you come back another time? I am in the middle of—”
“Nope, there’s a getaway boat waiting to take us to the city; I booked it this morning after texting you about coming with me to get a tattoo done.”
“What the fuck is happening right now?” Casmiro asked.
“Zahra,” Angelo spoke up, “if you could, please read the room and return when Marino is—”
“I am not canceling my plans,” she stated in a firm voice.
I held her wrist. “Zahra—”
“I am still not canceling my plans.”
I turned to the table. “If you would… give me a moment. I apologize for the interruption,” I said, getting to my feet and pulling her with me toward the small door that led to the main suite.
“I am not apologizing.”
