Page 64 of Heartless Mafia Prince

“I don’t think my parents would go for that, Rocco.”

“We’ll see about that.”

“Don’t push my dad’s buttons. I don’t want him to tear us apart.”

“Never that, baby.” Rocco slowed along the curb of a neighborhood store.

“Mask up, Princess.”

We climbed off the bike and tucked our helmets under our arms. Rocco scanned our surroundings. I followed him under the flashing, dingy sign.

I stepped in the store behind him. Disinfectant mixed with sour fruit hung in the air. A few straggling customers shopped throughout the small store. I checked out Rocco through the back corner mirror. He stood at a shelf pretending to make a purchase decision. The light flickered in the cooler as I opened the door. After I selected a root beer soda, I strolled to the counter. Head down, I stared at my phone as the owner rang up the lady in front of me. Rocco was told the owner worked almost every Saturday. One of his men texted him an hour ago, confirming he was on duty.

“Have a good night,” the owner said to the customer, before he turned to me.

“Hello.”

Instead of exchanging fake pleasantries, I sat the bottle on the counter. A figure moved quickly in my periphery.

I heard the door lock click behind the last customer.

“Hey man, what are you doing?” his slanted eyes darkened.

Retrieving my Glock from my waist holster, I slipped the bandana over my mouth.I stared at the balding, short Chinese man and pointed my gun at him. “He has something to say and you’re going to listen. Or else,” I growled.

His lips trembled as he glanced between us.

“A representative of the Andrisani family spoke to you a few weeks ago.” Rocco inched closer.

“Do you remember what you told him?”

He threw his hands up and walked backward toward the shelved liquor. “You thugs are all the same. You come here and bully hard-working people.”

Rocco shook his head. “You opened a business in our territory. Not our fault you didn’t ask around before you leased this space. You want to run a business in this neighborhood, you’ll give the Andrisanis’ a cut. I’m not here to negotiate. I’m here to collect for previous weeks.”

His hands shook in the air. “I don’t have that kind of money on hand.”

Rocco pulled the Glock from the small of his back.

The owner’s eyes widened.

“That’s fine.” He screwed on the muzzle.

“No please!” he cried.

“I’ll send my men to collect tomorrow. If I have to return, I’ll burn this place and your house with you and your family inside to the fucking ground,” he growled.

“But just so I know you got the message.” Rocco fired a shot.

The man collapsed to the ground, clutching his bloody arm.

We concealed our weapons before walking out of the store.

That job wasn’t hard like the next one would be.

Rocco weaved through the traffic.

“Ryah, are you ok?”

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