Page 18 of Valentino

What the fuck?

“Seventy-six million dollars worth of real estate. Five hundred and eighty-three high-class brothels. One hundred and twenty-six VIP strip clubs.”

We collectively gasp.

“Nine casinos worldwide valued at an estimated fourteen billion dollars.” He looks up at us over the top of his glasses. “This is a big responsibility, boys. Do you understand how important it is that you get this right?”

“Yes.”

I clasp my hands together as I listen, my excitement has turned to fear.

We don’t know what we’re doing.

Mario’s phone rings and he glances at the screen.

“Take it,” Giuliano tells him.

“Thank you, I won’t be a minute.” He swipes it open. “Ciao.” He says before leaving the room.

“Do you believe this?” Giuliano whispers.

“Jules, I don’t know,” I whisper. “This is a lot, maybe you should hire people who know what they’re doing.”

“I agree,” Alex whispers. “We can’t do this, no way in hell.”

“What are you talking about?” Giuliano fires back. “What I need is people around me I can trust.”

“But we don’t know anything,” I tell him. “Honestly, please don’t feel like you need to employ us, we get it.”

“What we don’t know, we learn.” He glances between us. “We learn.” His eyes search ours. “Tell me you’re with me on this?”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“I mean….” Alex shrugs. “This is an incredible opportunity, how could we ever repay you?”

“You work hard.”

Alex and I give a weak nod.

“We can do this. I know we can.” Giuliano smiles. “It was left to me for a reason and screw it, let’s fucking go. Let’s show them what we can do.”

Excitement runs through me.

“Are you with me?” he asks.

I nod. “We’re with you.”

“Till death do us part.” He holds his hand out and we slap it with ours as broad smiles cover our faces. “Let’s fucking go.”

Four years later.

Giuliano and I sit in the office, it’s Friday night, the end of a very stressful week.

We’re losing ground in Sicily; our competitors at Lombardi are stealing work from under us and have started taking our staff too.

I refill Giuliano’s glass with scotch. “Just….” I take a sip of mine. “Don’t think about Ferrara this weekend, I’ve got it. Switch off.”