You see, there are these apps where anybody can write books, stories and the sort and one day, scrolling the FB (which I don't usually do but I kill time with it on occasions) my eyes fell on a title that made me scoff.
The title, 'Mafia in Love'...
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The motherfucker Benito threw me out. Just like that, saying that his war is not mine. How the fuck does he know which is my ear and which is not?!
Did I try to get back in there, through the same door I had been thrown out on a minute earlier? Sure hell I did! But it was locked already and the only exit for me was the corridor behind me.
So, I take my chances, holding the machine gun for my dear life (fuck, that's exactly what it is), and make my way through the said hallway, exiting through the single door existing.
As soon as I'm out, Fabio and my two men grab me and we cover each other till we reach one of the cars.
"We're good! We're good, Raffa. Benito ensured us a safe exit," Fabio shouts while shooting through the open window till we are out on the gates and speed away from the villa's premises.
"Fuck!" I shout my adrenalin out, throwing the machine gun away. "Is he dead?! Is he dead?!" I ask Fabio, God knows how having my jaws painfully clenched and a pitched noise in my ears.
"Dead? How the fuck should I know, Raffa?! You were the one in his office," Fabio replies and hands me a cigar already lit. I grab it and suck deeply, filling my cheeks with the stinky smoke till the smell burns my gums.
"I had the motherfucker, Fabio! I had him a meter away from me," I speak after a few long moments of silence, a blessing pause for all of us sitting in the speeding car towards... the fuck knows.
"He took us out, Raffa. He made sure we got out of there alive. What more do you want?" he says and I turn my eyes at him, throwing flames through my eyes and killing him a few times already.
"I want his brain on my cellar floor, that's what I want!"
He shakes his head and fetches a bottle of water, drinking it all in one session while my phone buzzes with a message. Fishing it out of my pocket I see a message from an unknown number.
Kid, go home. Here is not safe anymore and nobody should know you are here. Go back to Italy for the moment and I promise I'll visit you soon. If we have unfinished businesses, we will close them.
VB
With every word I read, a fury in my chest grows higher to the point of choking me and making me feel the sweat burning on the back of my neck.
"Figlio di puttana!" I roar and throw the phone as, smashing it in the car's window. (Son of a bitch!).
None of the guys reacts, moves, or even breathes. I'll be fine, I'll be fucking fine as soon as drink a few glasses of whiskey and take a cold shower.
"Where is she right now?" I suddenly ask Fabio making him roll his eyes.
"Somewhere in NY but we couldn't locate her yet," he replies with the enthusiasm of a fly on a burning hot summer day.
