Deluca

Una

Authors Note: This Story preciously was known as I Married a Gangster. Full version of that story can be found exclusively on DREAME.com just search njcainebooks. Thank you for your support, please vote & comment. Enjoy!

The first thing he noticed was the warmth of the sunlight spilling in between his sheer cream curtains hanging on the floor to ceiling windows in his bedroom. Francesco lay still enjoying the few seconds of peace and clarity before he woke up, because his average day was anything but peaceful. His limbs stretched across the California king sized bed, he lay in the middle, as usual. It was rare for him to ever have a woman over, and if he did, they never slept in his bed.

The first thing Francesco reached for was his phone, checking for any messages or missed calls, besides his stubborn brother. Francesco's elder brother Giuseppe was a difficult man to tolerate. Born four years before Francesco Giuseppe was a hover personality. He would call Francesco numerous times a day, constantly trying to insert his opinion on how he runs things. His new thing he was pressing was for Francesco to marry.

It was very common in their family for the men to be already married when they take over, but Francesco had taken over three years ago and never had the time to begin courting a woman, let alone preparing a wedding. He had decided to cut his losses long ago.

Checking the list of missed calls, they all came down to one person, Giuseppe DeLuca. Francesco picked up his phone and hit the redial button one single time before listening to the phone chime.

While he waited, he made his way over to the bathroom to relieve himself, Giuseppe answered.

"Ciao, you're finally awake!" Giuseppe's voice calls from the other side of the phone, loud and booming as usual.

"It's seven in the morning." Francesco grumbled back to the man on the phone. Francesco caught a glance of himself in the mirror, his tall strong frame nearly touched the top of the mirror. He had stubble decorating his lower jaw. The white tank he had fallen asleep in provided contrast from his olive colored skin. Francesco picked up his toothbrush and began brushing as Giuseppe began to speak.

"I know that it's seven, and I knew you'd just be waking up." Giuseppe explains, "But listen, what will you be doing tomorrow around seven?"

Francesco adjusted his toothbrush, so he could speak, "Why?"

"I'm away in the states currently and I'll return tomorrow. I'm bringing you your guest." Giuseppe explained.

Oh right, Francesco thought, his guest.

No matter how far Francesco pushed himself away from his family's old school traditions, he couldn't do it anymore. It would never be worth losing everything. Francesco has worked for his position his entire life; it was all he ever knew. But he knew that him parading around without a wife of family would put a large target on his back.

It was usual for mafia leaders to present the perfect family across in hopes that they would be less suspicious with a large family to protect. Francesco wasn't completely opposed to the idea either, he has spent the large majority of his single life alone. He had tried falling in love before, but it hadn't ended in his favor. Francesco grabbed his toothbrush, applying the appropriate amount of paste onto it before brushing.

Giuseppe could be heard faintly on the phone that Francesco left on the sink purposely to tune his brother out. While he was busy playing match maker, Francesco had bigger issues to deal with. He had found it that there was an informant in his troops, but someone not reporting to the police, but to Francesco's very own competition.

He didn't like putting people down, but there was a role to upkeep. If he didn't kill this man, then people wouldn't take him seriously, they may overthrow him or assume he's weak enough for them to make small moves on their own. No there was no room for error in Francesco's life.

He has sent two of his hit men to deliver the man to his house tonight.

"Are you even listening to me or am I talking to myself?" Giuseppe's thick whiny voice rang over the sound of the running water.

"You call me in the morning to question me on listening to you? You interrupted my day." Francesco said through the foam in his mouth, while picking up the cell phone and placing his brother on speaker.

"We will be arriving at seven o clock tonight; I will be meeting her tonight." Giuseppe stresses.

"How much did you pay her?" It hurt Francesco to ask the question, knowing that the only way he was getting married was due to the fact that she would be paid. The ideal woman he wanted in his life would be there simply for love. Knowing this woman would probably just be seeking his money made him feel some sort of ashamed.

"It was her family who was in debt to us, not ours to hers." Giuseppe said, leaving an awfully cryptic undertone.

"I will be ready when you all arrive." Francesco said before quickly hitting the end call button. Stepping into his closet Francesco pulled out grey dress pants, pulling them on. He would be meeting his future wife today; he didn't know how presentable he should be.

He decided on a deep purple shirt and pulled it on over the wife beater he wore. It took him moments to completely his outfit with dress shoes and a Rolex. Once dressed, he exited his master suite and made his way downstairs. His men, Louis and Henri sat at the bar of his kitchen; it wasn't uncommon for them to let themselves into the house in the morning.

The men handled everything for Francesco, they ensured he ate, ensured he was safe, cleaned up after him, killed for him, spoke for him. If Francesco didn't want to, he made them. They never complained about it either, it was quite often he wondered if they followed him out of respect or simply because it was his dollar that fed their families.

"Ciao fratelli." Francesco mumbled as he walked into the kitchen. On the counter was a smoothie freshly made sitting on the counter.

"Ciao, I got your favorite smoothie from the deli." Louis said. Louis was a tall French man who held the fatherly trait Francesco missed out on getting in his childhood. He was years older than Francesco, originally his father's omega. Francesco found wisdom in Louis that he couldn't get anywhere else. Louis was the only person besides Giuseppe that would tell Francesco how it is without being sugar coating a thing.

"Grazie..." Francesco mumbled, grabbing the drink and took a sip from the green thick straw. It was Francesco's favorite, something he never mentioned allowed but Louis picked up on after nearly raising him.

"You meet your new wife today, how are you feeling?" Louis asked, Louis sat at the bar wearing jeans, Nike's, and a leather jacket over a white t-shirt. His style had always been causal and laid back, you'd never know he's killed more men than a small-town dictator.

"I had forgotten." Francesco lies.

Henri sat silently, listening to the conversation. He was never a man of many words, his simply obeyed. He was another French man who was shorter than Louis and a lot meaner. Francesco had never seen any emotion on the man's face besides rage.

"Forgotten? This large house will be filled with a woman barefoot and pregnant, carrying your bébés." Louis jumped from Italian to English to French frequently. It was his best way to communicate to Francesco who stubbornly only knew Italian and English.

Francesco shrugged at Louis, taking another sip of the drink. "Paulo will be here by tonight correct?" He changed the subject knowing it would stay that way, Louis was smart enough not to press.

"He's on his way here, untouched just how you requested. Sergio finally managed to fit you into his schedule." He had no choice; he knew Francesco had threatened the safety of his family had he not readily responded to him. 

Francesco has never touched a family, but violence onto people he had done him wrong lessened the chance of people calling him bluff.

"Great, I was looking for a reason to drink." Francesco smiled.

Henri smiled at that moment; he loved a good reason to drink. "The meeting is at nine, if we would like to get there on time we should leave now."

"Are you driving yourself?" Louis asked while standing.

"Pull out the Boxter." Francesco said, and Louis nodded, making his way to the garage.

Flicking through his phone Francesco's thumb rested on his mother's name, he was supposed to call her first thing the morning seeing as it was her birthday, but he was not ready to hear her scolding him about everything thing she deemed wrong in his life.

Francesco's mother raised three kids in the mafia, she always obeyed his father first then the children second. From prison, his father managed to control everything, which is why Francesco was patiently waiting for his new wife picked by his brother and sent by his father.

Francesco stepped out of the house to the cobblestone driveway where his car was neatly parked. Louis tossed Francesco the keys as made his way to the driver side door. The car purred to life in moments, and moments later it was cruising down the coast.

While most men liked to live directly near the action Francesco kept living in his family home in the villas. It was far away from the city and surrounded by its own mountains and hillsides that provided Francesco the perfect protection. As he made his way through the mountainside he reflected momentarily, soon he wouldn't be all alone.

He would have someone forced by his side; he couldn't help but wonder if she was beautiful. Would she be filled with rage and determination like his mother or filled with enthusiasm and joy like his baby sister.

Would she be a b***h like Jemma? Francesco's ex-fiancé. It wasn't his first time trying to marry and be happy for his life. It wasn't like he didn't ever want it, he had before but his heart was scorned. The only other way to marry was through arrangement.

He couldn't decide if he felt ashamed or not. Francesco's Boxter pulled into the parking lot of one of the elite restaurants in the city. It was the morning, so the place is still closed, but Francesco knew he'd be let in. It was where most of his meetings occurred.

The country flag hung from the rear of multiple government cars; Francesco knew he'd arrive after. Climbing from his car, Francesco adjusted his suit before making his way inside, Henri and Louis opting to stay outside and wait. More than likely, they were going to keep point Incase anything went wrong indoors, the same reason that Sergio's men stayed posted outside.

Inside, Sergio sat at the only table that was set up with a large table filled with already made breakfast food. He perked up seeing Francesco, but he knew it was fake. Francesco gave me a small smile as he made his way over, sitting across from the man that rules their country.

"Buongiorno Francesco," Sergio said, "Come stai?"

"Stò bene." Francesco leaned back into the chair and observed the man in front of him, shamelessly eating. It was a power move, he wanted Francesco to feel like he had let his guard down but the seven men lingering in the room still made it clear that Sergio feared him. He brought groups of people while Francesco brought two, who weren't even fit for combat.

"You came here because you have a request from me." Sergio said.

"It's more of a demand, from my end."

"Sí? And you're in the place to be asking demands from me?"

"I believe so seeing as I already control the import and exports of the country, something that you've made really difficult for me." Francesco said.

Sergio paused for a moment, it was brief, but Francesco noticed it. He had managed to stump the man. "I have made it difficult. The way you and your people run the city you'd think you'd have everything under control."

"You've implanted multiple informants in my group, I know you're not finished. You've made it pretty hard for my men, thus losing yours. Would the public care to know that it is you keeping their families hungry every night while he you eat this... feast?"

Sergio looked around at the table for a moment pondering with great thought, "How are you to know it's me and not somebody else? I would risk my family against the men like you. I wouldn't be that stupid and obvious."

"Then who else could it be?" Francesco asked, it was mostly rhetorical, "There's no one else who controls the police."

"Just like you don't control the police?" Sergio asked, "Cazzate! You're not putting my people in danger because you have competition." He was flustered and hot in the neck. He was also making points, but Francesco couldn't make that known to the man.

He had someone out there who is plotting on him right at the moment and he was sure he had only days to figure out who it is.

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