My Mafia Madness 2

Chapter 8 - Code Red

Nicola was standing just outside the lingerie shop with Cecilio as they patiently waited for the two women inside to finish their shopping at yet another store in the massive Mall area.

Cecilio had just made a joke and Nicola laughed loudly at it, right as Willow came running out through the entrance to the shop.

As soon as the fiery red head emerged and began searching for them, scanning the area surrounding her with her eyes, Nicola immediately noticed her frantic movements and wide, panicked eyes.

Something was wrong… he immediately sensed it.

“Willow?” he called out for her, walking across to where she stood.

“What’s going on?”

“Nicola, get in here, now!” she called out, waving her arm frantically.

“It’s Alexa… something’s happened.”

Hearing the obvious concern in her voice, Dante’s faithful second-in-command immediately rushed over, darting past Willow and inside the store in search of Alexa.

As he passed by her, he spoke to her quickly.

“Where is she?”

“In one of the changing stalls.” she replied just as quickly.

Both Cecilio and Willow followed along after the giant of a man as he marched through the store towards the back where the change rooms were.

“What happened?” Nicola continued to query as they moved at a rapid pace.

Willow shook her head as she spoke.

“I don’t know… she wouldn’t tell me. I found her sitting on the floor inside the changing stall crying hysterically. I’ve never seen her like this before.”

She stood by and watched as Nicola finally reached the stalls, glancing around as he called out for her.

“Alexa! Piccolo, (little one) where are you?”

The soft sound of sobs alerted him to the correct stall and he swung the door wide open to reveal her crumpled down on the floor, her face stained with the salted trails of her tears.

Her eyes were now red from all of the non-stop crying.

Nicola was crouched down beside her in a protective manner within a matter of seconds.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice much softer now as he placed his hand onto her shoulder gently, as a form of reassurance.

“Piccolo? Speak to me, please.”

Her bottom lip was trembling as she suddenly lunged forwards into his arms, hugging him as if her life depended on it.

The sudden contact startled Nicola at first, but he quickly wrapped both arms around her to comfort her as she sobbed.

“Alonzo… it was Alonzo…” she croaked between sniffs.

Nicola’s eyes narrowed in disbelief at her words as she spoke them aloud.

Alexa couldn’t have meant the Alonzo, right? The same Alonzo they believed was back in New York City.

“Greco?” he enquired sceptically.

She nodded her head, sniffing again as she burrowed in further into his broad chest.

“He’s here. He cornered me… he had a gun and…”

She was unable to finish her sentence, instead crying uncontrollably once again as Nicola looked up to meet Cecillo’s worried eyes.

He too had heard the name and immediately felt concerned of the possibility that the Greco’s had followed them all the way here to Italy.

“Cecilio, codice rossa!” (Cecilio, code red!) Nicola commanded sternly in Italian.

Cecilio nodded his head, his expression equally as serious as he went to turn and head off as commanded.

“I’ll go get the car ready.” he announced, jogging out of the store.

Watching him disappear, Nicola then removed his large suit jacket and placed it over Alexa’s tiny shoulders to cover her revealing body from view.

The size of his jacket in comparison to her frame was enormous, it’s length alone came all the way down to below her buttocks.

Alexa, who wouldn't normally feel comfortable about being wrapped in another man’s jacket and arms, was clearly in a form of shock as she fought to control her flooding tears.

Scooping her up in his muscular arms, Nicola began to stride back out through the store.

As the giant-like man moved, he passed by one of the saleswomen working there and called out to her as he continued walking, not bothering to stop.

“Mettilo nella nostra scheda.” (Put it all on our tab.)

“Certo signore. Devo chiamare la polizia?” (Ok sir. Should I call the police?) she asked him.

“No, abbiamo questo sotto controllo. Grazie per il vostro interesse.” (No. We have this under control. Thank you for your interest.) Nicola called out over his shoulder.

The saleswoman nodded her head, obviously concerned for the wellbeing of this hysterical woman found in one of their changing stalls.

She watched as the group exited her store and disappeared out of sight.

-

Once Nicola had the girls safely in the car, it sped off headed back along the winding highway towards Castello Romano.

He had already tried calling Dante several times now, Luca too, but both went straight to message bank which had the second-in-command seriously worried by now.

Especially with what had just happened to Alexa at the lingerie shop.

Ensuring that both women were safe inside of one of the rooms together and that the room was guarded by several armed men, Nicola moved straight into work mode, calling his contacts and rounding up the troops.

They needed to locate Dante immediately.

He needed to be informed about the Greco’s having followed them across from New York.

Nicola wasn’t able to get a whole lot out of Alexa before he left her with Willow and headed off to round up the troops.

He did however, recall her mentioning that they needed to warn Dante about the Greco’s. That they were making a move on him and that he wasn’t safe.

She gave no other details though, which left Nicola back at square one.

If what Alexa had said had any truth to it whatsoever, their boss may already be in some serious danger, even now.

And Nicola was in no sort of position to assist…

-

The overpowering stench of Cuban cigar smoke filling his nostrils was what caused Dante to wake from his drug-induced slumber.

His eyes slowly blinked to open and his blurry vision began to regain its focus within a matter of seconds.

The room around him was mostly dark with very few lamps positioned around the place, each shielded by fancy styled lamp shades.

He noticed that he was seated on a chair with Luca seated beside him. Unlike Dante, Luca was still out cold, snoring away peacefully without a care in the world.

By now, Dante could hear the voices speaking in Italian conversing around him and he focused on what was being said as he slowly but surely came to.

“Quando è stata l’ultima volta che li abbiamo sentiti?” (When was the last time we heard from them?) a deeply mature voice spoke.

One Dante knew and recognised almost immediately to be his father’s.

Don Diego Romano.

Anger boiled up within his veins at the thought of his father being the one responsible for their sudden sedation and kidnapping in broad daylight.

“Che cazzo sta succedendo qui?” (What the f**k is going on here?) the Reaper demanded.

His voice came across a lot groggier than he had intended it to.

Suddenly the conversation going on around him ceased as all eyes turned towards Dante, including those of his father, Don Diego Romano.

Diego’s eyes were much colder than Dante’s when they locked onto you.

Unlike the Reaper who had emerald-green shaded eyes, his fathers were a darker brown, leading most to believe that Dante got his radiant eye colour from his late mother Sofia.

And they would be correct.

“Guarda chi è finalmente sveglio.” (Look who is finally awake.) announced one of the other men Dante did not recoignise, standing beside his seated father.

“Ti è piaciuto dormire?” (Did you enjoy sleeping?)

“Vaffanculo, stronzo!” (f**k you, asshole!) Dante snapped viciously; his eyes narrowed in spite.

“Basta così, Carmine.” (That’s enough, Carmine.) Diego commanded the man standing beside him, never once taking his eyes off his eldest son who sat across from him.

“Non dimenticare con chi stai parlando... Questo è mio figlio.” (Don’t forget who you are talking to… This is my son.)

Carmine rolled his eyes and placed his hands up on his hips in response.

“Quindi questo è il famigerato Reaper di New York City, eh?” (So, this is the infamous New York City Reaper, hmm?)

Carmine looked Dante up and down in apparent disappointment.

“Per niente spaventoso.” (Not scary at all.) Carmine added.

“Questo stronzo ha mai chiuso la sua dannata bocca?” (Does this asshole ever shut his damn mouth?) Dante asked his father, completely ignoring Carmine’s snarky comments in the process.

Carmine’s eyes blazed with anger at Dante’s question.

“Tu picc...” (You little…)

Carmine went to lash out at Dante with his words, but Diego’s hand lifting into the air was an immediate command to silence himself, and he did so respectfully.

Diego looked to his son now. It seemed that it was time to start explaining why he had brought his son here in the first place.

The real reason.

“Vedo già il tuo problema. Hai degli idioti come questo che lavorano per te.” (I see your problem already. You have idiots like this working for you.) Dante remarked, nodding his head in Carmine’s direction.

“Carmine, Eddie, lasciaci.” (Carmine, Eddie, leave us.) Diego suddenly ordered, right before he went back to sucking on the end of his expensive cigar.

Both his men seemed hesitant about leaving their boss alone, even with his own son, but after a moment they followed his command and headed for the door.

Dante watched as Carmine in particular glanced back at him with a fury-filled glare.

Dante’s wide grin was like poking a wild bear and the Reaper thoroughly enjoyed being able to taunt this foolish imbecile working for his father.

Carmine… he would remember that name for later.

He and Carmine were far from finished with one another, that was for sure.

His father’s voice pulled him from his menacing thoughts as Dante turned to face Diego again.

“Lascialo, Dante.” (Leave him, Dante.) Diego warned, as if reading his son's mind.

“Sarà anche un completo stronzo, ma è uno dei miei migliori.” (He may be a complete asshole, but he’s one of my best.)

Dante’s left brow rose with challenge at his father’s words and a smirk curved the corner of his lips.

“Non ho idea di cosa tu stia parlando.” (I have no idea what you’re talking about.) Dante mused playfully.

“Anche se, vorrei sapere perché sono stato drogato dai tuoi tirapiedi incompetenti.” (Although, I would like to know why I was drugged by your incompetent minions…)

Diego seemed to let out a long sigh before lifting the cigar up to meet his lips again.

Dante could see that his father was flustered.

Diego only ever smoked cigars when he had a serious issue to take care of in the past. Something clearly had the man rattled.

The question was… what?

“Avresti potuto semplicemente chiedermi di venire.” (You could have just asked me to come.) Dante added, crossing his arms over his chest and casually sitting back into the uncomfortable chair.

He winced at its discomfort, frowning as his father responded.

“Dovevo essere certo che non fossi seguito.“ (I had to be sure you weren’t followed.) Diego announced, resting his cigar onto the large marble ash tray, perhaps to finish later on.

“E chi mi seguirebbe?” (And who would follow me?) Dante queried, eager to get more details from his old man.

Details that Don Diego was clearly not willing to give out.

Diego appeared to shift uncomfortably in his luxury leather seat for a moment before he finally opened his mouth to begin explaining.

“Si chiamano Silver Skulls.” (They are called Silver Skulls…) he drifted off, apparently finding it difficult to mention this syndicate by name for some unknown reason.

Dante frowned, activating a distant memory of such a name.

“Ne ho sentito parlare…” (I’ve heard of it…) he announced.

“Pensato per essere uno dei sindacati criminali emergenti qui in Italia.” (Thought to be one of the emerging crime syndicates here in Italy.)

Diego nodded his head, now unable to meet his son’s eyes as he glanced down at the stack of papers before him on his desk.

He let out a long hard sigh before going on.

“Le cose sono andate male, conosci la storia… E sono stato costretto a fare un patto con loro. Uno che impedirebbe lo spargimento di sangue tra i nostri sindacati…” (Things went wrong, you know the story… and I was forced to make a deal with them. One that would prevent bloodshed between our unions…)

“Non riesco a vedere cosa questo ha a che fare con me.” (I can’t see what this has to do with me.) Dante admitted, tilting his head off to the side.

Diego’s expression suddenly darkened as his eyes narrowed.

“Figlio mio... questo ha tutto a che fare con te.” (My son… this has everything to do with you.) Don Diego announced.

Dante frowned in confusion.

“Come mio figlio maggiore, sei il mio futuro erede. Un giorno camminerai nei miei panni e gestirai questo grande impero che ho costruito.” (As my eldest son, you are my future heir. One day you will walk in my shoes and manage this great empire that I have built.)

Dante didn’t like the sound of where this conversation was headed.

His father only ever spoke about the future when a life-altering decision had to be made. And from the sounds of it, this decision would somehow involve him.

“Venire al punto. Cos’è che vuoi, padre?” (Come to the point. What is it you want, father?) Dante cut in sternly.

“Come ho appena spiegato, sono stato costretto a fare un patto con il leader dei Teschi d’Argento, Don Dario De Luca, per mantenere la pace... Eri parte di quell’accordo, figliolo.” (As I have just explained, I was forced to make a pact with the leader of the Silver Skulls, Don Dario De Luca, to keep the peace…. You were a part of that deal, son.)

“Che cosa?” (What?)

“Sposerai la primogenita di Don Dario De Luca, in cambio della nostra continua alleanza.” (You will marry the eldest daughter of Don Dario De Luca, in exchange for our continuous alliance.)

Dante’s emerald eyes suddenly widened at the news.

His father intended him to marry some other stranger for his own personal gain...

That mother-fucker!