”Disappointed that the fucker stepped down?” Elio heard a whisper right behind him.
He turned his head slightly and saw Flavio standing near him. How he had managed to sneak his way past him in a matter of seconds he didn’t know.
”A little,” he answered. “Would have been fun.”
Flavio chuckled. ”Yes, it most certainly would. Noah was hoping for some more action before we got here. But it seems that he will be left wanting.”
”Everyone is shitting their pants because of how sudden this meeting was so I would say so too,” he joked.
”Those who have something on their conscience surely.”
”It’s a bloody mafia. I would be shocked otherwise,” Elio commented.
Then they both returned their attention to the Capo.
”We still have Russians in the city. More than I would like. And they got interested in many of our restaurant chains. I need you to keep a close eye on it and report to me if there is something wrong that you cannot handle. I am aiming at removing all the fuckers once and for all, however, it’s not something that can be done in a matter of seconds. But we can limit their possibilities. So talk to the owners of your establishments, make sure that they will stick with you.”
Making sure was putting it mildly. No one in their right state of mind would take the Capo’s words as anything other than the idea of threatening and keeping a strong grip on the matter. Made Men don’t talk. They order. There are only so many strikes they would accept. And that’s exactly where Elio’s role would become vital.
He smiled at the thought. Hoping that there would be those who wanted to play dirty. So that he could take over their games and make them his own.
That would be fucking perfect.
Chapter Nine
Board meeting was the right name.
That's how Elio saw it.
Suits and egos, not a smile that wasn't painted on or an opinion that wasn't so safe as to be completely pointless. As if they were colluding in how to have the dullest experience of living possible. Elio's whole insides shouted, “Just shut the fuck up and let us go!”.
He probably would if not for the fact that it was his father's meeting. And unlike the meeting that Noah Falcone had convened yesterday, he couldn't hope for any entertainment. Everyone was selective of what to say as per usual, and quite honestly, Gastone couldn't say anything that hadn't already been said before.
This meeting took place because of the need to set up a plan for the establishments. Going to the owners and talking to them. Nothing that Elio was a part of as the first step. Only if there were going to be problems later on, would he step up.
The Capodecina was about to conclude. Oh, fuck no. He announced: “And another thing,"
Elio slumped down in his chair making a noise. All eyes of soldiers working for his father looked his way disapprovingly. No one was more bored than him apparently. He would gladly let somebody take two pencils and stick them in his ears for the sake of it.
In times like this, he really appreciated being an Enforcer. Beating people was fun. If he wanted to be sitting in a fucking chair, having meetings, he would refuse the oath and go work as a business-fucking-man.
Not happening. But still.
"This one is directly addressed to you, Elio," said Gastone, getting his attention at last. Because if someone asked him about previous arrangements and decisions made since the meeting started two hours ago, he wouldn't say shit.
"What is it?"
"You will take care of Hunter Gordon personally. He already fucked around with us. I don't want it to happen again. He is a liability."
Calling someone a liability in the underworld was equal to ordering the kill. And Elio was up for the task, however, he couldn't see a single reason for such a decision. Yes, the man didn't want to pay at first but he did at last. Elio made sure that he would remember that and never do such a stupid thing again. They had a three-strike rule.
The Enforcer frowned. "Are you sure? He paid."
Gastone nodded. "And that's why you are the one to talk to him. Make sure he remembers your face when Russian fuckers decide to approach him."
"Talk or talk?"
There was a huge ocean of difference. He would enjoy the killing, of course, however, he wouldn't mind playing games with the old man for a little bit longer. Especially since their first game landed him in the hospital with a few broken bones.
His Father grew annoyed. "Your decision. Just make sure it's the right one,"
Yes, well, that didn't settle the dispute. But he simply nodded, realizing that he would do whatever he pleased anyway. Over the last months, Hunter had paid on time and hadn't used one of his employees as a shield anymore. Which would be good, if not for the fact that: one - he really wanted to beat the shit out of the fucker for no apparent reason, two - he wouldn't mind seeing Savannah again. It was like she made it her purpose in life to avoid him.
Perhaps it was for the better.
§ § §
The diner was full. And for a good reason. It was lunchtime so people felt the need to leave their nine-to-five boring-ass jobs and eat something before going back. Elio was looking through the window, leaning against his car, thinking that he would not be able to fit in anywhere else that wasn't underground. Seeing others working for a minimum wage, without perspectives or thrills in their day to day lives would be his fucking nightmare.
He looked at the busy tables. There was a couple eating side by side, one glass of wine each, studiously bent over their meals. A group of young women in their thirties collapsing with
