Entangled with the Mafia Don

LORENZO'S P.O.V.

It was clear that I would need a glass of whiskey if I was to survive the meeting without putting a bullet through someone's skull. As I looked around the room, I thought about who the unfortunate victim could be.

Dante, our head of security seemed like a fine choice considering the fact that he was the one responsible for protecting the shipment that was attacked by the Russians. As if sensing my gaze on him, he slowly lifted his eyes to mine. I shot him a sharp smile that had him cowering and looking away. Maybe it was the scar on my face that ran from my brow to my chin or maybe it was just the fact that I was the heir to the De Lucia family. Whatever it was, there was something about me that had men quaking in their boots and I loved it.

All my life, I had never met anyone who dared to defy me- until her. It had been seven years but I was still unable to get her out of my mind. It was like the more I tried, the deeper she dug her claws in. When she left, I scrubbed the house clean of every trace of her in anger then I regretted it and brought everything back. I tried and failed for years to find her and all this time, I still held onto the inkling of hope that she would return.

"Lorenzo," a voice snapped me out of my thoughts and I looked up at my father.

If there was any man in the world who was almost as scary as I was, it was Antonio DeLucia. He was known for his bloodthirsty nature and natural cruelty. We had the same black hair and while I chose to keep mine long and reaching my shoulders, he preferred to have his cropped close to his scalp. He had dark brown eyes that were almost black while I inherited the bright blue eyes that my mother had. Our eyes were the only difference that we shared. He taught me everything that I knew.

"Yes, father?" I asked as subconsciously twirled the knife on the table between my fingers. I saw Dante swallow deeply as if worried that I would suddenly throw the knife at him. "Has something new come up in the half an hour that we have been here? The Russians took the shipment, I am aware."

"We are discussing strategies in getting them back."

I sat up straighter and I saw a few of the men in the room take subconscious steps back. Only my father didn't move and that was because he knew that there was no way I would harm him. Instead, I turned to Dante and beckoned him closer.

He looked like he would rather swallow glass but he slowly made his way over to me and I saw him bow curtly as a show of respect. I lay the knife down carefully on the table and I saw his sigh of relief. It only made the corner of my mouth turn up. His first mistake was thinking that I needed a knife to kill him.

I reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and jerked him close. He inhaled sharply and he tried to look everywhere but at me.

"You were in charge of the shipment, weren't you?" I asked and he nodded making me slam his face into the table. "When I ask a question, I expect a response with words."

There was blood dripping from his nose but he made n move to wipe it off. "Yes, Capo, I was in charge."

"Good, now it will be your job to make sure that you bring it back and the Russians who took it along with you. Am I clear?"

"Of course, Capo."

I let him go and he took a few steps away from me so he was no longer within arm's reach. He bowed to me and turned on his heels. I waited until he had gotten to the door before I spoke again. "You have one week to make that happen, Dante. If it exceeds a week then I will make sure that it is you who dies in their place."

He didn't respond, he knew there was no need to, instead, he walked out the door leaving the room in silence. I took a napkin from my pocket and wiped the bloodstain on the table. My father was barely hiding his smile.

"Is there anything else?" I asked him and he shook his head. "I really don't know why you bother, there are more important things for me to handle."

I stood to my feet and walked out of the room without looking back. As soon as I was out, I heard the talking begin. I knew my men feared me and I lived off that fear. I had come to realize that men operated better under fear. They respected me because of fear and I knew I wouldn't have it any other way.

I made my way back to my office where I knew no one would dare enter. I wanted peace and quiet and in my line of business, it was very difficult to come by. I was about to close the door behind me when I heard a voice.

"Lorenzo." Only a handful of people referred to me as Lorenzo- my father and my close friends of which I had only one- Matteo.

"If it is not important, I will cut out your tongue," I warned as I turned to him but the moment my eyes met his, I knew something was wrong.

"It is bad, Lorenzo, you have to come and see for yourself," he said in fluent Italian and I muttered a curse under my breath as I followed him. I was confused when he started heading out of the house and towards the gate but I didn't question it and chose to stay silent.

There were two guards at the front gate and at first, I was confused until I noticed what or rather, who was between them. A little boy was standing there and he looked scared but determined. He had a small backpack on his back and I was confused. Not many people stumbled on our house, much less a child.

"Who are you?" I asked but he stayed silent. "Who are you looking for?"

"Lorenzo." His voice was soft but clear and I gestured for the guards to release him.

"I am Lorenzo. Who sent you?"

"I'm here from my mother. Her name is Isabella."