The mafia boss owns me

CHAPTER 8

On the front passenger seat, Enzo Deluca sat his jacket off, resting on his lap, his fingers resting loosely on his knee. Beside him on the driver’s seat, Vito Caruso, he kept his eyes on the semi-lonely road ahead, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping idly against it to a beat in his head.

It was raining outside, the rain wasn’t harsh, it was a soft, steady rhythm against the windshield, like the night itself was trying to soothe the city after all it had seen. The world outside the car was blurred with streaks of amber from the streetlights, and the distant echo of thunder that never quite arrived.

They had both been quiet for most of the ride, not the awkward kind of silence, but the kind that was born between men who didn’t need to speak to understand each other.

Finally the mansion came to view, a silhouette of light and stone. Its windows glowed softly mocking the darkness of the night. The iron gates parted with a low groan, and the car slid inside.

Vito whistled low. “You’d think with all this money, you’d get the damn gates oiled once in a while.”

Enzo gave a small, tired smirk. “You say that every time.”

“And you ignore it every time.” Vito’s grin. “guess some things will never change.”

“Like your terrible driving,” Enzo shot back.

“Terrible?” Vito arched an eyebrow. “I got us here alive, didn't I?”

“Barely.” with that, a quiet chuckle from Enzo, a rare sound these days. For a few seconds, the tension that had clung to both of them since the warehouse eased a little. Then the car rolled to a stop in front of the mansion’s main steps, and the mood shifted again.

Vito turned off the engine. The soft patter of rain became clearer now, the rhythm of it gentle but unending. He leaned back, exhaling. “Long night.”

Enzo didn’t answer immediately. He was staring out the window at the wet stone steps, his mind still replaying the image of the girl, Riley

He finally spoke, voice low. “Yeah. Too long.”

They stepped out of the car together, rain clinging to their clothes in thin glimmers. Vito tilted his head up toward the sky. “Soft rain,” he murmured. “The kind that makes you wanna stand still and think too much.”

Enzo gave him a sideways look. “Since when do you get poetic?”

“Since you started looking like your head’s about to explode,” Vito said, smirking. Then, softer, “C’mon, let’s get inside before I drown in my own wisdom.”

The two men climbed the steps. Inside, the mansion welcomed them with warmth the interior breathed space, air, and silence, a perfect balance of luxury and restraint, the ceiling separated from the ground like it was heaven and earth. Technology hummed quietly in the background, art punctuates the walls, and light itself seems to be part of the architecture, in every corner, comfort was met with control. It was beautiful, but cold, like everything built by Enzo's hands.

He tossed his jacket onto the nearest armchair and loosened his cuffs. “You want a drink?”

Vito laughed under his breath. “You even gotta ask?”

Enzo moved toward the bar in the living room, the glass shelves glittering with expensive bottles. He poured two tumblers whiskey, neat and handed one to Vito, who accepted it with a nod.

They drank in silence for a while. The rain whispered against the windows, and the fire crackled low in the hearth.

Enzo was the first to break it.

“So… the girl,” he said, leaning back on the edge of the desk. “She almost had it, huh?”

Vito turned the glass in his hand, watching the amber swirl. “Almost,” he said quietly. “Would’ve, if I hadn’t shown up, we still lost it though.” the car thieves seemed to be on their own, they had their own motive

Yeahhh, he said on a long breath

“That Riley girl. She’s got steel in her spine,” Vito said with a small grin. “I saw it in her face”

Enzo’s eyes flicked up. “Fearless or stupid.”

“Both can get you killed,” Vito said. “Difference is........one makes you a legend first. Why didn't you kill her, why ask her to work with us?”

Vito shook his head slightly, but there was the faintest ghost of a smile there. “You admire her.”

“I admire guts,” Enzo corrected. “Not many people still have it these days. Everyone just talks big, hides behind money or men with guns. But that girl? She was alone. Hungry, maybe. Desperate, probably and still didn’t flinch, not even in my presence”

He took a slow sip, then set the glass down. “She wasn’t just desperate. She was deliberate. You saw the way she moved, not random, not sloppy. Like she knew exactly what that briefcase meant.”

“You think someone sent her?”

“I don’t know yet,” Enzo said. “But nobody gets that close to my operation by mere coincidence.”

Vito nodded, expression thoughtful. Then, more quietly, “You’re thinking about the leak again.”

Enzo’s jaw tightened. “Of course I am.”

Vito watched him for a moment. “You think the two are connected?”

“I don’t believe in coincidences,” Enzo said simply. “The cops show up at Dock Nine right when our shipment lands. Then, hours later, some stranger tries to lift something off my car? No. Somebody’s moving pieces, Vito. And I want to know who.”

Vito set his drink down beside Enzo’s. “We’ll find out.

Enzo looked at him then, not as his right hand, not as muscle, but as the man who’d been there long before the suits and the empire. “You say that like it’s easy.”

“It’s not,” Vito said with a shrug. “But it’s what we do.”

For a while, neither spoke. The fire popped softly in the background, and the rain outside grew lighter, more like a mist than a storm.

Vito broke the silence again, his voice lower this time. “You remember when we started handling big jobs?? That warehouse on the 23rd.

Enzo’s brow lifted slightly. “Yeah.”

“You were acting so tough even though you knew you were as scared as a cat stuck in a tree”

Enzo gave a short, reluctant laugh. “Hey, I wasn't that scared, besides that's why I have you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you're not that small man anymore, you've grown so big now,” Vito said .

Enzo s**t him a sharp gaze and they both laughed quietly, the kind of laugh that came from memory, not amusement. For a second, the room didn’t feel like a fortress anymore, just two men sitting in a storm, remembering when life was smaller, simpler, and a hell of a lot less dangerous.

The laughter faded. Enzo leaned back against the desk, eyes distant. “Back then, it was just about surviving. Now it’s about control. And control’s harder to keep.”

“Because people are greedy,” Vito said.

“Because people are scared,” Enzo countered. “Fear makes them dangerous.”

Vito nodded slowly. “You think that’s what this leak is, fear?”

“Maybe,” Enzo said. “Or ambition. Either way, someone inside is feeding the cops, and I want to know who before they feed them again.”