𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐘 | 𝟏𝟖+

24

Lorenzo's POV

I slammed the car door in annoyance, wondering how we lost sight of our target, Volkov. I ran my hand through my hair to try to get rid of the negative thoughts running through my head.

This wouldn't have happened if my mind hadn't been so focused on Love. She's like a drug, and I'm an addict. A feigning addict who needs another fix.

"I'm sorry, Boss." Apologetically said one of my men as we made our way into the Italian restaurant. My only living uncle, Leonardo owns it. He took me in when both my parents died, and even helped me track Volkov. He's one of the few out of my organization that knows about my vendetta.

We walked inside, and the bells clinked, signaling there were people walking through the doors. I haven't been here since I arrived in New York, and it looks much different than how I remembered as a boy.

There was a bar as soon as you walked inside, and the women behind it looked afraid when they laid eyes on my men and I. If you'd looked harder, you'd see one of them bite their lip, like we somehow turned her on.

I looked away, focusing on my surroundings. There were booths and regular tables covered in white fabric, and there wasn't much light except for the yellow toned ones hanging above each table.

There were intimidating looking men sitting all around at one large booth in the back, most likely on my uncle's payroll of protection. One of them had a toothpick in his mouth, then subtly nodded his head for me to come further inside.

"Stay here." I ordered the three men behind me. I followed one of my uncle's men to the back, and he led me to a door, guarded by two soldier looking guys.

One of them knocked twice, and opened the door for me. The first thing I saw was my uncle behind a desk, smoking a cigar. "Figlio!" He stood, and made his way toward me with open arms, cigar still in his mouth. His round belly was much bigger than the last time I saw him. [son]

"Zio!" I smiled, accepting his hug. [uncle]

"You look just like your Papà." He cupped my face, and slapped it twice. Hearing that was much less of a compliment and more of an insult. My father was well built, but scars covered the majority of his face. His teeth were fucked up, and despite the money he had at his disposal, he refused to get them fixed. [father]

My uncle Leonardo walked back behind his desk, taking a swig of the dark liquor in his glass. "So, what's the word on Volkov?"

I took a seat in the brown, leather chair in front of him. "My guys lost him." I took the glass he poured me. "I should've done this shit myself. It would've been cleaner and quicker." I took a long gulp of the whiskey.

"Don't say that, Lo." My uncle inhaled a breath. "You need them if your plans will fall into place. What are they exactly?"

"Ah," I smiled, "a man mustn't reveal his secrets. That's the one thing my father taught me that I hold onto."

I could've sworn I saw a look of disgust on his face when I didn't disclose my plans for Volkov, but I figured I only imagined something that wasn't there.

"Your father, my brother.." Leonardo inhaled the cigar, "did not treat you well. I can see that." He exhaled, blowing smoke around the room. "Alessandro lacked.. how do you say? Patience and virtue."

"No. The fucker lacked common sense and morality." I corrected him, adjusting myself in my seat. "I didn't come here to hear about him. I came here because you called."

"Yes, well, as you know, your mother wasn't so innocent."

No. My mother was an innocent party in all the shit my father brought her into. "What do you mean?"