Page 75 of A Life Imagined
Before long, two white Land Rovers appeared and continued through the deserted complex toward them.Mathias tempered a flash of irritation as the cars pulled up.Arriving with a convoy of cronies amounted to funny shit, in his book.
The Albanians emerged like clowns at a circus and formed a cluster around an imposing man with an artfully manicured goatee on his tanned face.He wore a collection of gold rings and chains, the currency of a low-tier gangster.All that was missing were the designer sneakers.
The man stepped forward to fix Mathias with a beady glare.“You the one called Beauvais?”
“That would be me,” Mathias said evenly.“Where’s my money?”
“It’s here.But first, I have questions.”
“Questions weren’t part of the deal.”
The man folded his arms.“I made a few inquiries about you, Mathias Beauvais.You’re not some clueless antiques dealer.You’re with the Sicilians in Canada.”
Was.
“And not just a soldier either.Sounded pretty high up.”
Where is he going with this?“If we’re making introductions, mind telling me who the fuck you are?”
The man’s face soured.“Burim Osmani.Maybe you’ve heard of my father?Most people this side of the channel have.”
Mathias gave a shrug.“So your daddy’s famous.”
Burim scowled.“More than that.He’s a fucking legend.”
Mathias fought the urge to roll his eyes.Burim wasn’t the first man he’d encountered who worshipped the legacy of his father.
“Do you know we work closely with the ’Ndrangheta?You’d be surprised how much the Italian families dictate the flow of activity in Europe.”
“What’s this, a history lesson?”Mathias scoffed.“When did questions turn into a sermon?”
“When you tried to fuck my wife.”
Mathias froze.God dammit.His gaze flicked to Marsela who was pale as a ghost beside him.She had to be his fucking wife.
Marsela let out a stream of panicked pleas in Albanian, but Burim cut her off with a sharp rebuke.
“It seems my wife has grown bored of her pampered life,” Burim went on.“First, she wanted more responsibility in the business.And I thought, why not?If it keeps her happy, where’s the harm?Turns out that wasn’t the only thing she was bored with.”
The woman who’d had her tongue down Mathias’s throat was married to the head of the Osmani family.That threw a wrench into their wager.
“It’s been brought to my attention…” Burim said, looking at one of his men standing by the car.Mathias recognized Scarface, his face a broken, bloody mess.“That you’re not the first man my wife has taken a liking to.”
The mood took a sudden turn, and the other soldiers shot each other wary glances.Beside him, Rayan stiffened.
“Is that what this is?”Burim addressed Marsela.“A lover’s arrangement?You take the cash, and the two of you disappear into the sunset?”
“No,I dashur!” Marsela cried.
Burim gave a scornful chuckle.“I dashur?You have some fucking nerve.”He began speaking in a flurry of Albanian, his voice rising in fury.Marsela cowered, her tone keening when she replied.
Mathias ground his teeth.Here he was, caught in yet another lover’s quarrel.This was getting old fast.
“I didn’t try anything with your wife,” Mathias said.
“You expect me to believe that?”
“That’s exactly right.”
