Page 177 of Heartless Mafia Prince

Once outside, I nodded at Ercole, sitting behind the wheel of the SUV.

I began turning things over in my head as I tossed my bag into the trunk.

Who could’ve been after our territory?

Agosto and I hopped into the truck. I remembered what grandfather told me about the war.

Out of the four families, only two had a major disagreement in nineteen sixty. The Andrisanis’ and the De Bellos’. The Contis’ and the Cerullos’ were mutual acquaintances.

That disagreement caused a war over one particular gambling territory. The building sat on a plot of land that was shared by the two families for years. It was a mutual building used to take bets.

First, Marty accused Talli of stealing customers. The second time he said he broke into his cash room and stole money from him. Marty’s brother Alfonso was able to get him to calm down.

The next couple of weeks were quiet. Then, out of nowhere, Marty was spewing accusations again. He said Talli persuaded his customers to work with him and would offer them a discount.

Talli didn’t entertain his bullshit. He went on with his day.

Later that night, Marty and his men walked through the streets of Philly toward the bar where Talli and his crew hung out. They burst through the wooden doors’ guns blazing. Talli and his men took cover. Bullets spiraled through the air, hitting innocent bystanders. Blood-curdling screams echoed throughout the bar. Talli shouted at Marty, pleading that he stand down. Asked that the families have a sit down. Marty was hateful and vengeful. He was out for blood. They stood holding their weapons on each other. Baggio burst into the bar, clutching a gun. He yelled, “Uncle Marty, stop!”

Talli’s right-hand man shot Baggio. Marty completely lost his mind and shot Talli. His men returned fire, killing Marty and his remaining crew. Alfonso was distraught. He wanted the Andrisanis’ to pay for the loss of his son and brother. We were blamed for great grandfather Talli’s right-hand man’s decision to kill Baggio.

It’s believed he thought Baggio was gunning for Talli. He probably didn’t hear him call out for Marty to stop.

A few survivors witnessed the entire massacre, and reported the bloodshed and carnage to Elio Conti, Ryah’s great grandfather.

Elio said Marty was a loose cannon and should’ve been put down by Alfonso. He was ultimately responsible for the chain of events.

Elio ordered the Andrisanis’ to turnover a large part of their territory, including the gambling property to Alfonso. Giosue, Talli’s oldest son, was ordered to give money for the loss of Alfonso’s son.

What our family gave up almost crippled our business.

Alfonso took the territory. He said no amount of money could be paid for the loss of his son. Yet he still took the money. The De Bello’s didn’t associate with the other families for a decade.

The four families met in nineteen seventy-one to discuss new negotiations. This consisted of partnering in construction deals and pulling heists together. The new deals brought the families full circle. Our fathers operated differently than our forefathers’. They used a level head to conduct business. Not jealousy and greed.

Could we have been fooled after all these years? Were the De Bellos’ still vengeful? We’d have to find out.

The Heritage Beach sign came into view, bringing me back from my thoughts.

I tapped my earbud. “Ercole, look alive.”

“I’ve got your back, Rocco.”

I checked my Glock magazines, then placed them back in my waist holster before I exited the truck. Beads of sweat dripped down my forehead.

“Shit, it’s hot.”

“It is,” Agosto agreed, walking at my side monitoring our surroundings.

Wearing a bulletproof vest on the beach over my t-shirt would put a bullseye on my back. I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. My goal was to get my woman and get the fuck out of here. A large resort came into view on my left. Hotel guests laid on loungers, absorbing the sunrays. It was nine o’clock in the morning. I couldn’t blame them. If circumstances were different, Ryah and I would’ve done the same. I halted and gawked through a pair of binoculars.

A few stragglers walked along the beach. No Ryah.

I figured I’d try the bench next. She mentioned the bench last night. It felt like it meant something to her.

I stuffed the binoculars back in my backpack, then sat on the bench and marveled the sight before me.

“Baby, you’ve got my attention. Not that you’ve ever lost it.”

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