Bound by Duty

Chapter 9 There's always business

On reaching the club, Matteo received a text informing him that all the capos were already gathered in the VIP lounge. He showed the message to Vincenzo as they walked through the entrance. “Good.” The music outside still plays faintly through the walls, but inside the VIP lounge, it was muted. The moment he entered, everyone adjusted themselves. Matteo and Antonio followed behind him. He stopped at the center of the lounge; his eyes moving across each face. Nearest to the door sat Vitiello Gambino, current capo of the Gambino family. Most of Milan's methamphetamine and heroin trade flowed through their organization before reaching the streets. Beside him sat Cavallaro Fiore, capo of the Colombo family and one of DeLuca’s oldest allies. The Colombos controlled a large portion of the city’s cocaine distribution network. Across from them sat Cesare Raffaele of the Genovese family, another major player in the cocaine trade. At the center sat Umberto Bonanno. Calm, reserved, and usually the least vocal among them, the Bonanno family oversaw much of Milan’s cannabis market.

“As you’re all aware, one of our warehouses was attacked,” Said Vincenzo, as his gaze moved from one capo to the next. “Forty-eight hours,” he continued, “and not one person has brought me a single useful piece of information.”

“An operation of that scale doesn't happen in Milan without someone hearing whispers beforehand. Yet somehow, every informant, every associate, every family claims to know nothing.” Vincenzo chuckled as he continued speaking. “I don't believe it.”

“If none of us know anything,” Cesare interjected, “what exactly are we supposed to do? If we had information, we’d bring it to you.” Vincenzo’s eyes drifted toward him. “Don't interrupt me while I'm speaking.” Cesare opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it and looked away.

Vincenzo let the silence linger for a while before continuing. “As I was saying...” His voice had grown noticeably colder. “Given the circumstances, all operations are halted immediately until we get to the root of this.” Murmurs broke out almost instantly. “That’s not possible…we have products already moving.” Vitiello retorted, “I’ve made promises… One incident doesn’t mean we shut everything down.” Umberto added: Vincenzo didn’t interrupt them; he simply listened. Then he reached into his coat, and the revolver appeared so quickly that nobody saw the draw, immediately pointing it at Umberto

Umberto froze instantly. “If they can hit one of our warehouses,” said Vincenzo, “walk into my house… then tell me, where exactly do you think is safe?” Umberto didn’t answer; Vincenzo clicked off the safety. “If you can't see what's at stake here, Umberto, then perhaps you're no longer the right man to lead your family,” he said plainly. Everyone held their breath. Umberto swallowed hard as his eyes darted toward the rest of the capo, looking for help, but they all looked away. “Vincenzo.” Matteo’s called out. Vincenzo didn’t look at him. Slowly, he lowered the gun before taking a step back, his eyes still locked on Umberto. “Operations are halted,” he repeated. “Stop all distribution of any product until further notice.”

“But we’ll be losing millions,” Cavallaro finally spoke. “Yes, I know, but it's the price we’ve got to pay.” His gaze moved across the room again. “Does anyone,” he asked quietly, “have anything else to say eh?” Every one of them kept mute, intentionally avoiding eye contact with him. Some stared straight ahead like statues. Vincenzo nodded once. “Good.” He turned slightly. “Every available resource is to be redirected toward securing our remaining warehouses and finding the idiots responsible for this attack.” They all nodded. “You’re all dismissed.” Vincenzo said before he walked out of the Vip lounge; Matteo and Antonio followed; the door closed behind Antonio with a soft click as they all entered Vincenzo's office.

Vincenzo stood in front of his desk; his gaze fixed on the large De Luca's portrait hanging on the wall. The revolver remained in his hand. No one spoke for several moments, then Antonio's voice cut through the silence. “You've just fractured your entire network.”

“If we stop supplying product,” Matteo added, “the families below us will start looking elsewhere.” Antonio nodded in agreement. “The dealers on the street won't stop selling. Someone else will fill the demand.” Vincenzo's gaze remained on the portrait. Eventually, he finally spoke, “That's the plan.”

“I don't understand,” Matteo said as both Matteo and Antonio glanced at each other. Vincenzo finally turned toward them. “Think about it.” He said, “Who benefits the most if we stop supplying product? If our network suddenly has a shortage, someone will rush to fill the gap.” He stopped to lit the cigar on the desk; the flame briefly illuminated his eyes. “And whoever fills that gap is either our enemy... or connected to the bastard that hit us.”

“Now I understand, so by shutting down distribution... We force the rats to move.” Said Antonio with a faint smile across his face. “And when they move... We follow them.” Matteo finished Antonio's sentence

Antonio stretched his sore shoulders. “I’m exhausted.” Matteo nodded. “I’ll take you to the hotel.” Both men headed for the door, but midway, Antonio glanced back at Vincenzo. “You should get some rest too.” He didn't answer.

Vincenzo had barely had any chance to relax when one of the guards came knocking; he didn’t answer; the door opened anyway. Vincenzo took another sip before glancing up. “Signore, one Roberto Edoardo is here to see… he says he’s from Sicily.”

Vincenzo didn’t respond right away. He tapped the ash once and watched it fall, then finally said, “Where is he?” The guard shifted slightly. “He is at the VIP lounge, given the circumstances… I could send him away.” Vincenzo locked eyes with the guard. “Given what circumstances, eh? Send him in,” the guard nodded, and the door shot behind him

Seconds later, the door opened again. “Signore Vincenzo, this is Signore Roberto Edoardo.” Roberto slowly walked in. “I heard you’re in trouble.” He said while forming a faint smile. “Thought I’d come see it for myself.” Roberto slowly unbuttoned his coat as he moved. He drew the chair opposite Vincenzo and sat down.

You just came from Sicily, eh? Vincenzo asked

Roberto shrugged. “A few days ago.”

Vincenzo reached for his glass. “So, what brings you here?” he asked casually. “Business?”

“There's always business.” Roberto leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “I hear… You now control your father's empire… You know, empires don’t get inherited; they get taken… and we’re looking to expand our operation.” His expression shifted to amusement. Vincenzo kept smoking, exhaling upward without breaking his gaze.

“I’m sure you got our message.” Roberto brought out a black card. He set it on the desk and flicked it toward Vincenzo. “We would’ve killed you if we wanted to.” He tilted his head slightly. “Do you want to know why we did not?” Vincenzo did not respond.

Roberto’s expression shifted from amusement to a vicious glare. “Vincenzo De Luca!! We want you to watch how everything your father-built vanishes before your very own eyes… just like we watch our father lose everything to yours.” Vincenzo kept staring at him without breaking his gaze. In a fraction of a second, his hand snapped to the drawer and brought out his revolver, immediately aimed at Roberto, “How about I kill you right now? eh”

Roberto did not flinch, not even slightly. His eyes dropped briefly to the revolver aimed directly at him before lifting back to Vincenzo’s face again. Then, slowly, almost lazily, he leaned further into the chair.

Vincenzo’s finger rested near the trigger. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn't paint my walls with your brains, Roberto. Boldness is one thing; stupidity is another.”

“You could, but you won’t.” Roberto’s mouth curved faintly. “I didn't come alone, you know.” He adjusted the cuff of his sleeve before continuing. “But more importantly, your lovely wife, Lucia... you still think she’s safe in that penthouse of yours.” His expression shifted to amusement again. “I’m pretty sure you got the photograph.” He continued, lowering his hand to tap the desk lightly with his index finger. “Her survival depends on me walking out of this building alive.”

Roberto leaned forward again, his stern expression returning, his eyes boring into Vincenzo’s. “You see, Vincenzo, you’re playing checkers, while we’re playing chess. I am the only shield standing between your broken family and total annihilation right now. So, lower the gun, or you find out just how quickly everything you love can vanish.” He smiled faintly. “You know, you can’t kill me because deep down, you know I’m telling the truth. Your father built an empire feared by men across Italia, but…” he gestured at De Luca's portrait as he continued to speak, “fear fades. Age weakens empires, and right now? The De Luca family looks weak.”

“Careful.” Said Vincenzo as he slowly rose from his chair, his revolver still pointing at Roberto, but Roberto didn’t move; he remained seated. “You know what your problem is?” he asked softly. Vincenzo said nothing.

“You still think this is about territory.” He gestured vaguely around the office. “Money. Routes. Clubs. Ports.” Roberto continues speaking while slowly shaking his head. “That’s small thinking.” Then his expression lost every trace of amusement. “This is about legacy. You inherited a throne that was built with the blood of others, Vincenzo, and now everyone wants to see whether the son can truly protect what the father built.”

For a while, neither man moved. Every second felt stretched; the revolver remained pointed directly at Roberto’s chest. He glanced at the gun once more and sighed softly. “If you were going to shoot me,” he murmured, “you would’ve done it before I finished my first sentence.” Vincenzo lowered the revolver slightly. “Welcome to Millan Signore Roberto Edoardo.”

“Grazie, Signore Vincenzo De Luca.” Roberto rose from his chair and made his way toward the door. Just as he reached it, his hand paused on the handle. For a moment, he stood there with his back to the room. “If I were you,” he said quietly, “I would rush home.” Then he opened the door, stepped out, and slammed it shut.