Corrupted Angel

Chapter 4 Episode 4

Only then do I realize that my wallet disappeared from the club at the same time that Clara did.

The bass vibrates through the floor, but it’s a lot quieter up here than it is in the club below. I amsitting in my usual booth at Fiamma, my favorite club out of all the bars my family owns in the city.It’s a good place to conduct business. There’s little chance of being overheard, and my father wouldnever set foot here, preferring to keep to the old drinking holes he and his friends spent their youthsin, shrouded in a cloud of cigar smoke.

To my left sits Vito Gambaro, my best friend since grade school. He will be my consigliere, my right-hand man, once I take control of the syndicate. For now, he’s my most trusted confidant, and the onlyperson in the organization who I know without a doubt expresses loyalty to me and me alone.

Across from us sit Dom Rozzi and Diego Berdini. Dom is a good capo but takes his pleasures in thesimple things in life, not caring much for politics or strategy. He thinks with his muscles and his d**k,and doesn’t like any problem he can’t fix with his fists. True to form, Dom is staring lecherously at apair of long legs that saunter past. Diego chuckles.

I lean toward Vito. “Is the meeting set?”

Vito glances at Diego, but the older man is too distracted by Dom’s drooling to notice our sidebar.“Yeah. They’ll meet with us at the docks tomorrow.”

I sip my whiskey. “Good.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Vito asks.

I send him a dark look.

Vito is immune to the power of my glares and leans closer, lowering his voice. “Your father will belivid if he finds out.”

My father is the don of the Belluci crime family and Vito is right—he will be downright furious if helearns that I am making plays behind his back. Unfortunately, it is a necessary evil. If my father has hisway, he will bring ruin to the family and end a generations-long dynasty of power. He has alwaysbeen a greedy man, but as of late, his greed has begun to consume him. I intend to prevent that fromdestroying us all.

“He will come around to see that it is the best move for the business,” I state. “He may act like one,but my father is not a fool.”

I hope that is the truth. Lately, his actions have shown otherwise.

We Bellucis command the majority of the docks, a vital piece of real estate for any criminalorganization. The Irish mafia, run by the Walsh family, controls a small chunk for themselves. Myfather has been gearing up to wrest control of the docks from them entirely but cannot see why that isa bad idea. The Walshes are strong, and I suspect that they have another power backing them as theyhave had a recent surge in resources and capabilities. The don is blind to this. He refuses to think ofthe Walshes as anything other than the tick on our back that they have been for the past couple ofdecades.

“What are you two whispering about?” Diego interjects.

I look over at the older man. His dyed black hair is slicked back from his forehead, and fine linesfurrow his face. Beneath his suit, his arms and chest are covered in faded tattoos, a map of thetumultuous life he has led for so many years.

Diego is like an uncle to me, and I wish I could trust him as he’d be a valuable ally to have.Unfortunately, he has been a close friend of my father’s since they were teenagers.

“Vito was just reminding me of the time that he and I snuck in here when we were kids,” I reply.

Diego laughs, exposing teeth yellowed by decades of smoking. “I remember that. I had to come downand throw you both out on your asses because the bouncers were too afraid to deal with you.”

“Everyone was,” Vito chimes in. “Nobody wanted to be the one to give the twelve-year-olds beer, butGabe knew how to throw his weight around, even then.”

“You two were always getting into trouble.” Diego leans back, grinning. He nods to me. “You werethe king of the castle before anyone even handed you the keys.”

I chuckle. I guess nothing has changed.

The waitress comes by with our next round of drinks, and the conversation soon moves onto theupcoming boxing match. This divides the table as Vito backs the more experienced Russianpowerhouse, whereas Diego and Dom maintain that the Bronx-bred newcomer will easily unseatVito’s champion.

I don’t care much for boxing or sports in general. They are just distractions. A distracted man is aneasy one to fool.

I glance over the balcony at the throbbing dance floor below. My gaze catches on a brunette in asparkly silver dress that splinters the flashing strobe lights. I saw her face in the crowd earlier as I cutthrough the dance floor, and I remember thinking she was stunning.

I watch as she dances with wild abandon, occasionally swishing her long wavy hair into the faces ofthe other clubgoers, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care. Even from this distance, I can see that herbody is built for sin, and my c**k stirs as I watch her hands glide over her cleavage and hips.

Diego’s voice cuts through my leer. “Gabriel, did you hear me?”

I look back to him, blinking. Who is the distracted one now?

“No,” I answer. “What did you say?”

He leans closer, glancing out of the booth to make sure nobody is close enough to overhear. “Yourfather wanted me to check that you know your role in the upcoming merger.”

We always speak in veiled terms when in public, and I understand his meaning.

I nod. “It is not complicated.”

My father’s plans never are. He lacks the elegance of strategy that my grandfather employed whileconsolidating our power decades prior. The don’s plan to harness control of the docks involvesmostly muscle and firepower, the only strategy being to kill the Irish before they can kill us. I ammeant to conduct this strategy from the north, while our other forces push in from the east and west.

“I know you have your misgivings, but this acquisition will weaken our competitors enough to pushthem out of business,” he says. “You’ll see.”

The only thing I will see if this plan goes ahead is a long and costly mob war. One is already brewingdue to my father’s machinations, and attacking the docks will pour gasoline on the smoldering embers.

Luckily, before that can happen, I intend to meet with the Irish leader’s youngest son, Damien Walsh.We will strike a tentative peace while the Bellucis still have the upper hand that will hopefully bringa little order back to our streets. My father has wasted enough men and money on this already, andwhen I bring news of the arrangement to him, I am hoping he will have enough sense to see it is thebest solution.

The trick will be in arranging this truce without drawing Damien’s suspicion. If he thinks an attack isimminent, it could spook him and make him unpredictable. I need him to be calm and malleable.

Before I can answer Diego, my phone begins to ring. I check the screen and my jaw tightens. It’s thebig man himself.

“Excuse me,” I say, exiting the booth.

I make my way to the back alley, where it is quieter. I lean against the bricks and look at my phone,considering whether it would be worth it not to answer. No, I decide, I need to be on his good side.

“Hello, Father,” I answer.

“Where the f**k are you?” he growls.

“Fiamma.”

“Of course. Where else would you be? It’s not as if we have a war to plan, is it?”

I grit my teeth. “Do you need me?”

“I need you to remove your head from your ass and start acting like the leader you’re going to be oneday,” he bites out. I can just picture his face turning purple, as it always does when he gets wound up.“I’m beginning to think that maybe Felicity is right. Maybe you’re not going to be ready to take overwhen the time comes.”

Felicity Harrow, that scheming witch. My father has been absolutely obsessed with the woman for thepast two years, and you can pinpoint the decline in his senses from the second she walked through thedoor. My father has always let his d**k do more of his thinking than any man should—Felicity wasjust the first woman to capitalize on it. She quickly moved from mistress to advisor, spreading herinfluence like a virus.

“I’m with Diego,” I reply, trying to keep my voice calm when all I want to do is scream at him. “Weare going over the plans for the merger.”

That takes some of the wind from his sails. “Why didn’t you say that?” he grumbles. “I swear to Godyou take pleasure in pissing me off.”

I ignore his question. “Do you need me to come to your office?”

“No. Just wanted to check to make sure you weren’t f*****g around.”