Page 30 of Mafia King's Forbidden Vows

“Mi scuso, Capo(I’m sorry, Boss). He’s never owed us or failed to pay on time, but now he’s claiming that business has been bad since last month and has still not paid up yet.”

“And he had the guts to lay his filthy hands on one of my men? Who did he hit? And why?” I ask, my hands clenched into tight fists on my lap.

“The report is that our collector went to Ahmed to ask for the long overdue loan. They got into a scuffle over the money and Ahmed’s guys attacked him; then he passed out.”

“He passed out?”

Cortez shakes his head in a light nod. “He was shot in his shoulder and lost a lot of blood before he could reach out to me.”

My clenched fists loosen up and tighten again.

How dare Ahmed? A miserly pickpocket who crawled at my feet a couple of years back, begging for a place in my family, now dares to owe me and even shoot one of my men? I swear, I will be the one to murder that asshole and his goons myself.

“So why are you still here? Why haven’t you taken on Ahmed and his miserable gang of drug peddlers by now?” I yell into Cortez’s face.

“I only got wind of it just now. I’ll handle it right away,Capo.”

“No. We will handle it. We’ll have to pay those guys a visit. Get the car.” Perhaps it’s the pent-up anger against whichever fucker has messed with my warehouse, but my fingers itch to spill blood, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

Ahmed’s gang is just a small gang of drug peddlers after all. I can take them all on with my very own hands.

***

Usually, I would have stayed back at home and mobilized my men for this attack, but it would be better to go myself when those bastards are completely unsuspecting.

I would only miss the opportunity to spend the day watching Aria like I did yesterday. She would be in the mansion by now,probably lazing away in front of a Korean drama show like she did yesterday.

My lips lift with a small grin as the thought of her sprawled on my loveseat, munching on popcorn and giggling at the characters in whatever drama show she decides to watch, plays in my mind.

I catch myself and shake my head. I can’t be distracted, not when I’m going on a mission as serious as this one.

I ask the driver to stop the car in a less conspicuous place, just before the empty barn house which Cortez discovered they use as their campout. It’s 4 p.m. already, so my men and I should move in by the next hour.

“Keep your eyes open. I want to be alerted at the smallest sign of movement,” I bark at Cortez.

“Sì, Capo.”

***

My men are in the cars parked just a few feet away. Cortez and I walk briskly to the building and knock on the wooden door. A rotund man appears to check who it is, gasps upon seeing us, and opens the door wide for us to enter.

His mistake.

I plunge a knife into his gut, turning the handle until blood pours out from both his mouth and nose, then yank out the knife and push him to the ground.

The other guys spring to their feet, but the encounter with the guy at the door gave my men the opportunity to assemble behind me.

I swing an arm out, the hilt of the blade colliding with someone’s skull and the blade itself diving into another gut. There is a roar from somewhere and then gunshots. I neither look back nor around me.

I can feel Cortez at my right hand, grappling with one man twice his size, but he will be alright.

All I want is to have the head of that bastard, Ahmed, in my hands. No one sends a message to Elio Donatelli, at least not with the blood of one of his men. And today will serve as a message from the Marino Empire to all the small drug peddlers like this gang.

I move through the chaos like a predator, twisting arms that get in my way and kicking at guts, then silencing others with my Glock slide.

Suddenly, a fist catches me in the ribs. The pain explodes through me like a thousand fireworks, but before I can drive my elbow into the perpetrator, Cortez has his hand blown off.

I catch a glimpse of Ahmed holding a grenade, ready to launch it at my men and me.

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