Page 38 of Mafia King: Matteo
We jog to our waiting vehicle, a block over to avoid detection. The plates are all listed to offshore companies. It’s not impossible for someone to build a profile and start connecting pieces that might point to us at some point in time. In order to defeat our enemies, we keep an ear to the ground. I wish our sources were as good as those in the Red Keep in Game of Thrones. We do our best to know what’s happening in our families and what might affect our business by way of government intervention or newcomers who think they can usurp our power.
Today, the federal government requires all businesses to register with the Bureau of Financial Crime and provide identification. All the big players know how to get around the rules. Gone are the days of hiding money in the Cayman Islands.
Nowadays, clever criminals deal in cryptocurrency and operate out of underground bunkers with water-cooled computers or hide in abandoned buildings in places like Kosovo. You will find call centers with hundreds of people working on dating sites everywhere. Hackers are constantly creating new ways to trick people into clicking links to viruses that steal money from a victim’s bank account.
We made our getaway, and once inside the vehicle, we close the privacy divider between us and our driver.
“Someone knows our moves.”
“Antonio?” Gio asks.
“No. He’s in love and working on the details to stage Finn’s overdose,” I mutter as I stare out the window.
“There’s no way they’re tracking us. Just to be sure, I’ll have all the cars swept for bugs and have someone other than Antonio look at all our security footage,” Gio says.
“Let’s check the location of Antonio’s phone and car. My gut is telling me it won’t be easy to find the rat. Gambino knew something that someone wanted to cover up.”
“Like a murder,” he adds. “There is no reason to kill a retired mobster. His execution is meant to send a message. But why? We don’t even know what it’s supposed to mean.”
“True. I think it means my father’s death was orchestrated, and if one person knows why, someone else has to know, too. Unless we run into a string of dead bodies and all possible witnesses have been neutralized, this could be part of a huge cover-up. There’s no way a syndicate would kill off a retired man of the last regime unless there is a motive to do so.”
“I’ll have one of our forensic guys go through your father’s phone. We need to reconstruct your father’s last months, if not the entire past year of his life.”
“His house sold for more than the listed price, which isn’t surprising.” I run my hand over my head. “His stuff is in storage. Do we need to go through his personal stuff? I never thought there was crucial information buried in his crap.”
Gio shrugs. “Let’s start with the phone and his computer. We might uncover something. Then again, he might have used a burner phone for everything with a clue. He had numerous phones, and Gambino was in charge of keeping track of them.”
“He didn’t like computers. It’s possible something was written in his mess of papers in my study or the boxes I threw in my garage.”
“Hmm, we would be further along in solving this mystery if you hadn’t started sleeping with that sexy Russian.”
“Well, that’s a pleasure you should consider so you aren’t stuck growing old alone.”
I snap the box shut. She will love the ring. I wonder how she will react when her father tells her she has to marry me, share my bed, and have my children. I hope our daughter takes after her with blue eyes and a sassy tongue.
I love how Alena’s eyes flicker with fear and simmer with lust when she banters with me. I’m not sure why I want to marry her. It’s not like I have time for a wife and kids.
I wonder if I’ll regret marrying an American-Russian woman instead of marrying an Italian. Italy’s mainland culture has changed drastically compared to the island of Sicily. The more remote the area, the more we remain the same, and time seems to move more slowly. Small seaside Sicilian towns are the same as when I was a child.
I’m sure she’ll forgive me for surprising her. I have no idea why I’ve been toying. That’s not true, either. I find her to be a worthy opponent. I love her banter. Her snappy retorts amuse me. She even makes me laugh.
It’s not as if I have time for a wife. However, some doors need to be opened, and I’m confident she will be helpful.
I grab a tie and drape it around my neck, then tie it. I look at myself in the mirror before I slip into my Italian shoes.
There is a quick knock on my open door.
“Ah, Federico,” I say as he hurries into the room.
“I just want to know if you need anything before you leave.”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks. However, a woman will be here shortly. I think you’ll like her. Her name is Alena. She’s going to be my wife.”
His eyes open wider in surprise.
“Very well, sir. I look forward to getting to know her.” He nods.
“Take the night off. I’ll see you at breakfast.”
