Page 5 of The Air You Breathe

I looked down at the other guy, seeing him look like a bloody mess. Fuck, I hope he didn’t die. His team came quickly assessing him and trying to wake him up. I was about to offer some help when Lucio’s glare stopped me.

“Office… now,” he snarled. “You too, Giovanni.”

I nodded, leaving the cage and going straight there. No point in delaying the inevitable though, I don't know what he was pissed at. It was a short walk to the set of offices we had down here, but Lucio’s was extravagant and so fucking gaudy it was ridiculous. The small room I had worked just fine. I didn’t need anything to keep me here longer than I needed to be.

Walking into Lucio’s office, I wasn’t ready for whatever he was going to bitch about today. It was always something, but if Giovanni was in here today, he didn’t like something we had done.

I sat down in front of his desk, while Giovanni went to the bar and poured himself a drink. I wasn’t Lucio’s son and if I did that, he would chew my ass out, but Giovanni had some leeway.

“What the fuck was that?” Lucio snapped, walking around the desk to sit down.

“What was what, sir?” I was honestly confused. Giovanni set a tumbler of alcohol in front of me but there was no way in hell I was going to touch it.

“Why the hell would you go into the cage,” he said, glaring at us like we were the dumbest shits in the world.

“Can you imagine if he had died in that ring?” Giovanni didn’t sit down, staring down at his father.

“If we let him kill the other fighter, then no one would want to fight with us. We have the ref there to stop it before it goes too far and if we let one man die, it makes us look irresponsible,” I said, trying to keep Giovanni from speaking out against his father too much. I was worried one day he would go too far, and Lucio would get tired and put a bullet in his head.

“The ref had it under control,” Lucio scoffed.

“The ref was watching the fight like a spectator not a ref.” Giovanni rolled his eyes.

“He needs to be evaluated because if…” I paused trying to remember Kimbo’s real name.

“Darren,” Giovanni supplied for me.

“Right. Darren’s followers would blame us, word would get out and no one would want to suffer the same fate, so they would fight elsewhere,” I explained.

Lucio stared at me like I had a hidden agenda before he finally nodded at me. “Fine, but I think that ref is fine, no need to get your panties in a twist.”

I wanted to roll my eyes at this man because his panties were just in a twist over something that he should have known.

“I think I will talk to him to remind him that we need these fighters alive for them to keep coming back,” I said, challenging Lucio. If he wanted fighters then he was going to have to deal with it.

“Fine, now I want to know about the shipment of drugs that was delayed in getting in the day before yesterday.” He leaned back in his obnoxious chair. I hated this part of my job. Lucio had started to dabble in drugs the previous year. When I told him we should just make a weed farm and sell to dispensaries, he scoffed at me.

He wanted coke, ecstasy and heroin, the hard stuff. It made me cringe at the part I was playing in getting these drugs in people’s hands. I tried to stay as far away as I could from it, making that more Giovanni’s domain, but I was still guilty by association. And fuck, did I feel guilty.

Giovanni started to explain what happened as I stared that drink down. I really needed something to take the edge off. The more time I worked for Lucio the more I felt my life was out of control. It was only supposed to be long enough to pay off a debt, but when he offered me more money to work for him, I hesitated and stayed.

I only did it because my father died, and I didn’t know how else to help support my ma and sister. I also didn’t know when or if my sister's cancer would come back, so I wanted to be prepared. But I was getting tired, and I didn’t know how much longer I could do this.

“… get a shipment of girls…” My attention snapped back to the conversation. I hoped I didn’t hear what I thought I heard.

“You can’t be serious?” Giovanni snarled. “You want to get into sex trafficking?”

“It’s a lucrative business and if I’m to have the equity to take over Denver from my brother, I need all the help I can get,” he said, nonchalantly.

Oh fuck no. I couldn’t do this. I wouldn’t do this.

“I think there are other ways for us to acquire funds that are less likely to get us thrown in jail,” I said, hoping he would listen. Anytime I mentioned getting locked up, it always made him hesitate.

“If I don’t take risks then how am I supposed to go back and claim what is rightfully mine.” He leaned forward on his desk. “This is taking too long, and I need to make my move soon.”

Giovanni rattled off in Italian, looking angrier as he continued speaking. I usually hated when they did this, but I didn’t think I could stomach this conversation anymore. Lucio smacked the desk, looking irritated and yelled something back.

“We are going to do this, and I better not hear anything more from both of you about this,” Lucio snapped, getting up and buttoning his suit. “Remember your place, Giovanni. Cresci Ragazzo!”

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