Page 89 of DeLucas After Dark

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ALMOST NEVER

BENIAMINO DELUCA

BY JADE ROYAL

ABOUT ALMOST NEVER: BENIAMINO DELUCA

Forever doesn’t begin when you decide it does. It’s predestined, and you’re put on a path filled with obstacles to overcome. It’s a choice to push through or give up. Only one of them pays off in your favor.

For Beniamino and Simone, they’re about to experience some of those hurdles. Their love will be challenged, their patience tested, and most of all, their loyalty to one another.

Can they conquer their fears?

Listen to the tune of their hearts? Or is this just another reason why they shouldn’t be together?

In Almost Never, you’ll get the answer to all those questions. Do you believe in fate? You’ll need it for this story.

BENIAMINO

“Boss, we’ve got a problem.” The caller said.

“Paulie?” Groggily, I’d picked up the phone without checking the caller ID. This phone only rang when business needed to be handled in Italy.

“Yeah. There was a deposit made.”

From … I sat up on the edge of the bed, trying to get my head together. Deposit … Deposit… Deposit…

“There is one made every month on the same day. The amounts vary, but the day is consistent.”

Tommaso, my father, has been dead for about a month. There’s no way that it was him. I saw the body. It’d be impossible for him to still be alive. I’ve heard of the head of mob families faking their deaths. This wasn’t how this story went. The business we conduct over there is a withdrawal … connected to another account. I’ve been meaning to get a closer look at what we do in Italy but hadn’t gotten around to it. However, it ran like a well-oiled machine. It was time to make that a priority since I couldn’t identify the solution to this problem immediately.

“Who made it?” I asked.

“We’re checking into it now. Who has authorization to access the account?”

“Focus on finding out who made it. I’ll worry about who has access.” I got up and walked into my office, closing the door.

Logging into the account, I saw the deposit he mentioned. The deposit slip had a signature I couldn’t make out. Too close to my father’s handwriting, I wondered who it could be. I’d been introduced to everybody on payroll over there. Nothing was adding up right now, and it made my thoughts spiral. Who was this motherfucker?

Sadly, I didn’t think I was going to get the answers I needed while being in Florida. I dialed a number and waited for the familiar voice.

“Ami?” Disoriented from being awakened before her nap was over, Martina answered.

“Yes, did you get a chance to go through that box of documents I left for you?”

“I started. Ami, it’s a mess. Who drops important papers and folders into a 27 x 20 x 20 size box? There’s no organization in there and no matter who you are, you can’t make sense of it. It’s full. FULL! So, no, I haven’t gone through it in the manner in which you’re asking. I’ve sorted it. But there is a lot of shit.”

Smoothing the space above my eyebrows, I took a deep breath. “Martina. Get it done. I need information, and I’m positive that it's in your hands.”

“I have a deadline, Ami. It’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

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