Page 8 of The Empress
I quickly slow down, which has him laughing at me.
I steer my car through the gates of his property, and when I stop by the front door, it opens, and Leandro comes darting barefoot out of the mansion.
Before Massimo can open the door, Leandro reaches through the open window and grabs the box. “Hey,ZioLeo.”
He rushes back inside, and Massimo grumbles, “The little shit will eat me out of the fucking house.”
“He’s a growing boy,” I stand up for my godson.
My right-hand man gets out of the car and leans down to look at me. “I’ll pick you up at ten tomorrow for the meeting with Luigi.”
“Okay.”
Franca appears in the doorway and waves at me. I return the way, then reply, “Have a good night.”
Massimo pats the roof of my car. “You, too. Message me as soon as you’re home.”
“It’s only ten minutes.” He gives me a pointed look that has me sighing, “Fine.”
I make a U-turn and slowly steer my Ferrari back down the driveway and out the gates.
I don’t take in any of the other mansions in the neighborhood, and they soon fall behind me. Driving along the stretch of road that curves around the hillside, there’s a scenic view of the moon shining over the ocean on my left.
As I near the only entrance to my secluded property, the heavy gates swing open, and I give my two guards, Edoardo and Jacopo, a chin lift. Pulling the Ferrari into one of the garages, the engine’s roar is loud for a moment before I switch it off.
I get out and walk to the door that connects the garages to the mansion. As I enter the kitchen, I shrug off my jacket. I’m greeted by silence that’s only broken by the faint roar of the ocean while I walk toward the living room, lights automatically coming on as I move through my place.
There are expansive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the dark water and my private beach. Dropping the jacket over the back of my gray, suede couch, I head for the side table, which is decorated with two crystal tumblers and a decanter filled with my favorite Scotch whiskey.
I pour myself some of the amber liquid, but before I can take a sip, my phone vibrates, and I chuckle as I pull the device out.
Massimo: Are you home?
Leo: Yes. Just walked in.
Massimo: Good.
I take a sip of the whiskey, loving how it burns down my throat, then sigh when another message comes through.
Dominik: Will you be at the meeting on Wednesday?
Two years ago, I formed an alliance with four of the most powerful people in the world. Dominik Varga, the biggest arms dealer, and Santiago Castro, who charges a fuck-ton for extracting people from dangerous situations and giving them new identities. There’s also Cassia Dimitriou, the head of the Greek mafia, and last but not least, Enzo, who’s in charge of a syndicate in Portugal.
We all invested in an island off the coast of Chile that’s more like a resort with state-of-the-art security.
Even though I’ve known them for a while, I wouldn’t say I’m friends with any of them. I know Dominik and Santiago are pretty good friends, but Cassia, Enzo, and I keep to ourselves. We only interact for business.
Honestly, Massimo is the closest thing I have to a friend since Diego was killed. I’ve avoided getting close to anyone else since I lost my best friend and his family.
Walking to one of the couches, I sit down and type out a reply.
Leo: I won’t be able to make it in person. I have business to take care of. I’ll attend via video.
Dominik: Everyone’s busy lately. Enzo and Cassia are also attending via video. I’ll send you the link for the meeting. Anything I can help with on your side?
Leo: No, but thanks. I’ll talk to you on Wednesday. Give my regards to Grace.
Dominik: Will do.
