Page 133 of Heartless Mafia Prince

Hands shoved in my pockets, I strolled into the living room. The heavy dark curtains were drawn, blocking the sunlight. Agosto stepped to the left, unloading our equipment.

“Genn, you couldn’t let the asshole go to the bathroom.”

My team and I were dressed in similar clothes.

Genn puffed out his big chest. He shoved his foot into the back of the tall, white, elegant chair Luther sat in. “Hey, he had a plastic sheet to use as his personal toilet.”

Agosto snickered from behind.

I scanned the spacious, open living room and dining area. Huge paintings hid under canvas sheets along the walls.

“All right, big guy. You’ve been here since last night so if you say he’s not worthy to utilize the facilities I agree.”

Genn touched his mouth. “He busted my fucking lip when I entered the house. I’ll clean up the piss.” Genn stalked off.

Luther’s wide gray eyes stared back at me. He didn’t bother wiggling in the zip ties that bound his wrists and ankles. Luther was built like me. He was in shape for a thirty-year-old guy.

“Genn, to be fair, you walked into his house after you cut the video feed,” I yelled, over my shoulder.

Agosto folded his arms and laughed.

“I’m just saying he’s a slippery motherfucker.” He returned with disinfectant and a roll of paper towel.

I nodded, pacing in front of Luther. “Did Genn tell you why he was here?”

His bloody lips trembled as his eyes moved with me. “N-no.”

I halted. “You spoke with my father Urbano Andrisani and his friend Luciano Conti a few weeks back.”

Luther dropped his head and sweat dripped from the tips of his tousled brown hair. It felt like it was eighty degrees in here. Genn might’ve turned off the air conditioning last night to get Luther warmed up for our talk.

“Genn, have you spoken to Ercole this morning?”

“Yeah, I talked to him thirty minutes ago. I told him to get some shut eye. He said he would after you guys made it inside the house. I’ll call him and make sure we’re secure on the exterior.”

I nodded.

“Agosto, set the room.”

“On it.”

“Genn, after you’ve spoken to Ercole again, lay out my tools.”

“I’ll get right on it, boss.”

“Boss?” Luther repeated.

I circled my finger in front of me. “Yes, Agosto and Genn work for me. I’m not the boss of my family. Yet. My time will come on my twenty-fifth birthday.”

I sat on the corner of the dining table.

“Luther. What happened to the two million in cocaine and guns?” He sat in a dingy gray shirt and white soiled shorts, barefooted.

“I told Urbano and Luciano a group of men hijacked the shipments. It didn’t matter what route I took. They found me.”

“It sounds like you were working with them. Because you’ve transported for our families for two years. And just out of the blue someone steals from us. Not once, but twice.”

He shook his head. “I wasn’t working with whoever the people were.”

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