Salvation [Kylo Ren Mafia AU]

Prologue

My head pounds with a piercing agony that splits my skull beyond seeable vision. The ringing forces my eardrums to vibrate, sending an angry chill through my spine. A faint light glows and casts shadows around the otherwise dark villa room. I stare at the phone until it quiets. Instant relief soaks my head before it goes off again.

My growl echoes through the high ceilings as I fist my phone to near shattering, answering before I even glance at the screen, "This better be fucking good."

To call at God forsaken hours after a Friday night in Milan is a basic death wish. Your name will be directly placed on the top of my to-be-killed list the morning after.

The other line is silent, quiet breathing filling the emptiness. I pull the phone away, glancing at the screen to figure out who called. My instant uneasiness intensifies the hangover as I see my youngest brothers name flick on display.

"Antonio, what is it brother?" I force myself to sit up in bed, ignoring how the room spins as I reach for my shirt on the floor.

His silence grows louder as I frantically search for my pants, struggling to see in the dark. My silver Ferragamo belt glints in the moonlight, halfway hidden beneath the bitch I brought home only three hours ago. I rip my pants out from under her, causing her to groan and flashing me her still naked body as she turns in her sleep.

"Talk to me brother," I half plea as I sloppily get dressed.

The only reason he would call is to inform me that something has gone terribly fucking wrong. I have distanced myself from the Ricci family ever since I was passed up on owning and running the family business. I stay close enough in Italy to run errands and stay in decent graces to have access to unlimited money but other than that, I stay far... far away. Especially from the old bastard of a father I have. That fucking old man would force my little brother to deliver any bad news – keeping the eight yearlong truce to never cross paths again.

Just as I tuck the phone between my ear and shoulder, fastening my watch on, his young voice whispers what the family has been dreading, "Nico... Enzo is dead."

My shoulders slacken as I stare out of the hostel window that overlooks the city, which is very much still alive. Even at this hour there are countless taxicabs bustling and loud shouting of drunk tourists finally getting a taste for Italian affairs. That all dims and muffles as I hear my little brothers voice, the truth he spoke. We all had suspicion over the last month, not hearing from Enzo. My family chalked it up to be the hurricane knocking out communication systems and delaying flights out of the city but my mother had a feeling. She kept saying her gut instincts were screaming that something wasn't right over in America.

"Where is your father?" I demand as I force myself from the haze.

"He's your dad too..." Antonio clears his throat and answers, "but he is arranging for Enzo's body to be returned home."

My stomach twists with the idea of Enzo's cold body being shipped overseas to Tuscany, Italy. My mind races as I try to grasp the consequences of this and what it means for the family business. He was bound to fill my father's footsteps, despite me being the oldest and the rightful heir. I fought tooth and fucking nail; tried to explain that Enzo was nowhere near ready to take over and be in control. Sure, I am the family fuckup that would rather snort my way through life but I still had a better grasp on life than Enzo.

"I'm coming home," I twist to put on my dress shoes, uncaring that I scuff them as I tip over with nausea.

"Wait," he panics before sighing, "father doesn't want you here."

My anger beings to boil over, "I don't give a flying fuck what that old bastard wants."

"No! No... he wants you to take over immediate business affairs in Enzo's place." Antonio sounds nervous, him never understanding or liking how quickly I lose my temper.

I reel in my anger as I scrub my face, "I am not a part of that business, Tony."

His voice sounds just like a fifteen-year-old kid as he begs, "You must, Nico. It will get you back into good graces with the family and you could come back home. Be with us and make Mama and Nona happy again."

My heart aches knowing that this kid just lost a brother as well. He is so young and if I do not step up, God knows who that old dirty fuck will put in charge. Knowing that dickhead, he will put Antonio in charge the moment he turns sixteen and the thought makes my blood ignite with combustible fuel. No kid should be subjected to the lifestyle at such a young age. I mean... look at me. Coke still lining my nostrils and facial hair with a hooker sleeping in the very expensive room I purchased for mere hours.

"What affairs are we talking about?" My head is actually throbbing as I flip on the bathroom light in search of my wallet.

A spark of hope makes Antonio perk up, "His affairs in North and South America. I don't know the specifications but I can have Tito email the details within the hour. Except that isn't the only thing father mentioned..."

"Spit it out, Tony." I push back the shower curtain, finding my wallet sitting next to the drain.

His voice wavers, "Father wants you to get vengeance for Enzo. He mentioned sending you over with his best men and having you find who is responsible for this. He spoke of the embarrassment and shame Enzo has rained on us. Father wants his eldest son to recover and restore the family name."

Shaking off the water from my wallet, I cringe to see the hundreds of dollars mushy before tossing them on the bathroom floor. I holster my gun to the inside of my suit jacket before loudly exiting the hostel room, flying down the stairs and towards the valet.

"Tell your father he can keep his piece of shit men," I exit the hostel and toss the kid at valet a dry hundred from my pocket, "I have my own."

The piece of shit would hold the family title above my head with murder. Is that all I am good for to him? The hound dog that hunts and kills everyone who does us wrong. I will gladly get vengeance for my little brother but this will not be for free – not for him anyways. I will gladly uproot my drug fueled life for a trip to the states, tracking my brother's killer. All I know is that whoever fucking did it better be scared. The Ricci family does not take kindly to disrespect.

The valet pulls my purring, red Ferrari to the gate and hands me the keys as I climb in and speed off, "Have Tito email me my flight to the states along with everything I need to take care of... loose ends and all."

"Mama will be so pleased to hear of this," Tony mutters, hope slowly being restored.

My knuckles tighten around the steering wheel as I still feel buzzed, "You and Mama leave Tuscany by tomorrow night. I have no idea if whoever killed Enzo will be after you, alright? You use that black card I gave you and convince her that Greece or Turkey would be a fun getaway. You cheer her up and protect her, you hear me?"

The opposite end of the call is quiet before he whispers, "I'm scared, Nico."

His fear makes my anger spill over like an oil, thick and slippery, "Don't be, Tony. You know I will find whoever did this and end them. Have I ever let anything bad happen to you yet?" He remains quiet, so I ask again, "Have I ever let anyone hurt you?"

Tony sighs, "No, never."

Before I know it, I am speeding out of the city and down the countryside roads, "Exactly, now hang up and have Tito book me a flight immediately. Oh, and keep this conversation between us."

Antonio does as he is told, hanging up without another word. I race home to my secluded villa that lays on the outside of Milan in a small gothic town called Como. The moon is still visible as I race up my long drive, bursting through my door and grabbing anything that would be essential for a hunting trip. Guns and ammunition will have to be purchased in the states so otherwise, I pack light with only suits, shoes, and my fake passport.

As I am racing out of my house and to my car, I get a ping from my phone. Tito informs me that the flight is in four hours and the airport is two hours away. Plenty of time to pick up my selected few men and infiltrate America.