ARIA.
I scribbled into my journal unable to settle my mind. I'd never been able to cope with uncertainty and this agreement with Mikhail rattled my nerves more than I led on.
I'd always been a step above others but this incident with the Capos proved I was getting soft. Weak. I grabbed my phone off the bedside and glanced at my messages. My eyebrows furrowed at a certain text.
I'd sent Diego, one of my most trusted men, undercover to the Mexican Cartel. A very risky move, yes, but one I had to make with the rates at which the Mexicans were increasing their drug supply.
We Italians have always ruled the drug world. The Cosa Nostra exported the largest amount of heroin, meth, cocaine, whatever hard drug existed. It served as our main source of revenue. However, about three months ago, the Mexicans began to supply way more at cheaper rates.
Diego only sent one word. Trouble.
I knew that if they caught him, they'd kill him and they'd consider a spy plant a declaration of war. I didn't need a war right now. With the Capos on my neck and the situation with Mikhail, I just needed to breathe.
I changed to my gym clothes and headed to my gym room. I told myself I'd workout for a few minutes, just enough to clear my head but I didn't leave that room until the sun shone through its windows the following morning.
****
Hours later, I sat in my father's office, going through the numbers from the weekly reports when a knock came through. "Principessa, Capo Romanio requests an audience," Rosa said. "Let him in," I replied, beginning to clear my table.
He walked in a minute later with a sleazy smile, then took his seat after I nodded in permission. His smile is one of the ten reasons why I hate him. It makes it very evident to know he's anything but an honourable man, I always wondered why my father worked with men like him. With a matching fake smile, I said, "Capo Romanio, is there anything I can help you with?"
He seemed pleased at my respectful tone. The bastard. "Well, principessa, there is one thing I've been meaning to speak to you about," he began.
"You have been so occupied with the funeral and the Famiglia, it is not so easy to cope with, especially being a woman. It is never easy for a woman in this world without a man to support her, which is why I wanted to request for Mariella. As you know, I'm more than capable of providing for her needs so it shouldn't be an issue." He said it so calmly, you would think he was asking for a pen, not the wife of my late father.
I gently placed down the pen I'd been holding and smiled to tamper my fury. "You said you want what?" I asked, hoping I heard wrong. Romanio simply repeated himself, "Mariella, I'm asking for Mariella," he said.
I'd always wondered what Mariella found attractive in my father, a man twenty years her senior. I initially thought it was his money, but I quickly realized that she loved him even though I didn't understand why.
I never even loved my father and as bad as it sounds, he never loved me either. But he respected me, and I did same. Which is why Romanio's audacity to ask for the hand of my father's woman not even a week after his burial infuriated me.
I didn't say a word. I simply grabbed the gun at my side and shot him on the head. Twice. I didn't bother to ring Lena, she heard the shot and will probably be on her way to clear the body. I grimaced at the blood that stained my father's wool Persian rug. That shit costed a fortune. I fought the urge to groan remembering that I'd have to arrange a meeting with the Capos tomorrow to discuss Romanio's...unavailability. At this point, I can't think of anything else going wrong, things are already so messed up.
MIKHAIL.
I've had to sit through five horrible meetings today but this was most definitely the worst. As the Pakhan, I have to oversee every affair we Russians are involved in: Political Involvement, weapons smuggling, money laundering, and other not so pleasant activities. But the one I detest the most is our prostitution ring.
Even though it brings in quite a lot, I've never been comfortable with the fact that we allow women to sell their bodies but it's something that, according to Nadia, they enjoy doing.
Nadia Petrovna is the only female in the Bravta to work directly under me, she handles all the prostitution rings and despite enjoying her company, I hate our meetings, simply because I have to sit for hours listening to the amount of money we make from paid sex.
"Nadia," I call out, she keeps quiet immediately. "I think I've heard enough. The clubs seem to be functioning fine," I say and slowly stand. Getting the message, she simply nods and replies, "We'll send our reports to headquarters."
I want to sigh in relief at that. "That would be best," I say in response. Nadia continues to stare at me as if expecting me to say something more, and when I don't, she tries to hide the look of hurt that I clearly saw on her face.
It's no secret that Nadia has had a thing for me for years. We grew up together in the Bravta, her father being a close friend of mine. I'm not sure when she began to have feelings for me, but they were never reciprocated.
Her attractiveness was never the problem though; her dark blonde hair and blue eyes were more than capable of catching a man's attention. Just not mine. A pair of dark hazel eyes swam in my mind, luscious black hair, toned full curves that—
Fuck. I fled the room as soon as my cock began to stir awake to thoughts of Aria. My body's reaction to her always came at the wrong fucking time. By the time I got to my car, my anatomy had calmed down. I hoped Nadia didn't see that and get the wrong idea.
Felix, my second-in-command, got in a minute later, a confused expression on his face. "Drive," I almost yelled. Unfazed, he began to drive. I needed to do something about Aria. I just need to get her and fuck her out of my system. My cock hardened again by just thinking about her and I almost groaned. I need to get her soon.