Page 44 of Sexting the Don

As the group breaks into smaller clusters to deliberate, I take it as my cue to step away. I walk over to the expansive window that offers a panoramic view of the city below. The night is alive with a sparkling landscape, and I love it.

When I first started mingling with legitimate businessmen like Thomas and Marcus, it was all a cover, a façade to mask the murkier parts of my operations. But over the last decade, these legit ventures have genuinely taken off, shaping my portfolio into something so robust that I barely need the dirty money anymore.

The illegal stuff is mostly for kicks now, the thrill of the game, and a nod to the family legacy that thrust me into this life.

I gaze out over LA, pondering the empire I’ve built and the dual paths I walk between legitimacy and the underworld. Those dealings in the shadows aren’t just about tradition anymore; there’s an obligation, too—to my family and to the loyal guys who still operate in those darker depths.

Taking a sip of my whiskey, I savor the richness as it grounds me back to the present. I turn back to the group, ready to guide our talks to an endpoint.

Just as I'm about to rejoin them, my phone buzzes insistently in my pocket. I pull it out and see Mandy's name on the screen. A small smirk forms on my lips as I think about the night ahead—perhaps a bit of celebratory fun after sealing today's deal.

But when I answer the call, the tone of her voice wipes the smirk right off my face.

"Mandy, slow down," I say as her words tumble out in a frantic rush. "Calm down and tell me what's happening."

There's a moment of heavy breathing as she tries to compose herself, and then her words come out more clearly. "It’s my mom and Jimmy. He hit her, Enzo. He actually hit her, then me, and threatened us both."

The details pour out, each one like a punch to my gut. Pure rage begins to simmer within as I listen, my hand involuntarily clenching into a fist.

"Listen to me," I say, my voice low and steady despite the storm brewing inside. "I want you and your mom to go to my place right now. Head straight to the guest house and make yourselves at home. You’ll be safe there."

"Are you sure? I don’t want to impose—" she begins, but I cut her off.

"It’s not up for discussion. I’m sure. I want you both safe, and that’s the end of it," I insist, my tone leaving no room for argument.

"Okay, we’ll do that. Thank you so much.” She sounds massively relieved.

"Text me when you get there," I tell her, my jaw set tight as I end the call.

My thoughts shift violently as I slip the phone back into my pocket. The deal I'm about to close fades into the background, overshadowed by the urgent need to protect Mandy and her mother. As I walk back to the group, my mind races with plans and dark thoughts of what I might do to Jimmy if I get my hands on him.

I smooth out my features as I approach, trying to mask the fury still simmering within. Thomas eyes me cautiously.

"Everything okay?" he asks, a hint of concern lacing his voice.

I nod, maintaining my composed demeanor. "It's fine," I assure him, my voice even. "Just a family matter that needed my attention."

Marcus, who had been quietly observing the exchange, nods understandingly before shifting the conversation back to business.

"We've discussed your proposal, Enzo, and we're ready to accept the deal," he announces, a note of decisiveness in his tone. "We'll have our lawyers draft up the contracts, but for now, let's seal this with a handshake."

One by one, I shake hands with each businessman. Another member of the group, eager to celebrate our new partnership, suggests, "Let's break out some of the good stuff. I have a bottle of twenty-year-old Scotch that's been waiting for an occasion like this.”

I pause, tempted by the offer. Under normal circumstances, I'd join in the celebration, but tonight is different. "I appreciate the offer, but I have to head out, family business," I reiterate, the weight of the situation with Mandy and her mother pressing urgently on my mind.

Understanding flickers in their eyes. We shake hands, and I offer my apologies before exiting the club. As I slide behind the wheel of my car and start driving through the city's vibrant night, my thoughts drift to Mandy. A twinge of sadness hits me as I think about her situation.

I breathe a sigh of relief when a text comes through from her telling me they’ve arrived at the guest house.

Her father is a piece of shit, and it's clear she's been dealing with his toxicity far too long without a real support system.

The streets blur past, each streetlight streaking through the darkness. I'm pissed at her father, but more than that, I'm concerned for her and her mom. They're in a tough spot, and it hits me just how alone Mandy must have felt dealing with this.

I’m glad I can be there for her. It's not just about being the tough guy; it's about being the right guy in her time of need. As I drive, I feel a resolve settling over me.

Whatever Mandy and her mother need, I'll make sure they get it.

As I pull up to my house, the lights glow warmly in the guest house beyond, offering a comforting sign. I park quickly and make my way around the property, spotting Mandy alone on the porch. She’s staring off into space, lost in thought, a glass of water in her hand.

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