Art House IV
I was needed at one of my clubs because Ethan was having a terrible time entertaining the Russian arms dealer I was interested in doing business with, and the night is still very young.
He had fled the Bratva to America and was exceptionally skilled at what he did, despite the long and troubled relationship between Italians and Russians.
The club is packed, and people are watching the girls on stage dance. My waitresses give the people who matter the most some of our exclusive product as I make my way up to one of the VIP suites on the second floor.
"Ethan is causing havoc."
"He's hogging all the entertainment,"
Marco says as he steps in front of me. I give a nod and enter the room where Ethan is seated with two of the girls clinging to him, while the man sitting next to him appears to want to be somewhere else. Idiot at best.
I walk over to the stupid person and grab the back of his neck. "Out. Now." I talk in his ear as I feel him still his hands from grabbing the lady's butt.
Before getting up and making his way toward the exit with the two women in tow, the scumbag curses under his breath and smiles nervously at me.
I turn to look at the two women.
"You both remain. I'm not paying you to fuck around with him."
Furthermore, with that, I move towards the sofa and usher the young ladies towards the Russian arms seller prior to doing what I specialize in.
Fixing things. . . . I can get Vlad where I want him in fifteen minutes.
And getting him there is as straightforward as vodka, women, and coke.
"You need a line?" While bringing the cigar to my lips, I shook my head and leaned back in my seat.
In my teen years, I stopped doing anything that could keep me from working on my business. I was a mature man with responsibilities; I had to look after people.
I was not going to throw everything away in search of the next high. "More for me, probably." Leaning forward, Vlad snorts the line of coke from the table in front of him before shrugging.
I only glance away from him as he watches one of the girls move toward me. She tries to straddle me, but I shook my head and flicked my wrist to push her away.
"No women, alcohol, or drugs?" I can hear his voice from next to me. "How do you Italians entertain yourselves?"
"I have a business to run, everything else is secondary," I say, leaning back and spreading my legs to get comfortable.
"What about your woman? She's also second-rate," you ask. As he coaxes one of the girls onto his lap, he asks questions.
I tap the end of my cigar on the ashtray as I brow raise. "My lady?" He nods when I ask for clarification.
"Let me know more."
The power my position held didn't come at an east expense. I always had people on my watch, eager to take advantage of any opportunity to reach the top.
I needed to know who they thought the woman was if I was being talked about having one.
"Pretty girl, always in your presence. People are interested, so be careful." He talks, then turns his attention to the girl in his lap.
I think of two names, but only one of them worries me. On the off chance that it was Greta, great fucking riddance. My life would be easier if I lost her. Much simpler.
I lean back, bring the cigar to my lips, and reach into my pocket for my phone, but I can't find it. The thought almost makes me smile.
Shit, I texted and left it in the car- As I think back on the one other woman in my life, my face turns red. Camila.
As an unsettling sensation settles in my chest, my gut turns. I was aware that Camila could be in danger, but the thought that someone might be watching her makes my entire body tense.
She wasn't to be placed into issues like this. I wasn't supposed to put her in danger; I was supposed to protect her.
Just it resembles the universe has a strange approach to taking things back to me on the grounds that the snapshot of acknowledgment is stopped by Marco who unexpectedly blasts into the room.
"I can't get in touch with Giana because there has been a house fire." I get up right away, my mind racing with fear, only to freeze when he says the next thing.
"Firemen took out two dead bodies, both female." My spirit breaks. It fucking drops as lament and frenzy get comfortable my chest. Cazzo.
"Contact the two men who were following her." I request leaving the room and towards the exit. "I attempted and when I didn't get anything, I sent a couple of folks out to the mind them."
As he continues, my shoulders become stiff and I stop. "They were both found with slugs through their skulls."
As the meaning of this becomes clear, there is silence. It was an intentional attack. I can see the scars of fear in his eyes as I stare at him.
The things we are both thinking but are too afraid to say fill the silence between us. I hadn't received a third update from Camila, and she was in that house with a target on her back.
Everything moves quickly. As I attempt to swallow the tightening in my chest at the thought of her being harmed in any way, I race to my car and push past anyone standing in my way.
Never before had I been so worried about anyone's safety. Not since I was a young boy and worried about my father's safety each day when he went to work.
However, Camila, She could never be hurt. It simply could not. As I accelerate off the street, the engine roars and I see my phone glowing in the passenger seat, letting me know I've missed notifications.
I immediately unlock my phone and, along with Camila, go to the text chain to view a new message that was sent fifteen minutes ago;
That shit was lame. We have all left and will walk two blocks to a frat party.
The relief is immediate, but I will not be calm until I am certain that she is safe. I accelerate and use her phone's location as a guide. This was one fucking close call.
Additionally, I was going to ensure that we did not have another one.
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