New Turns

2

Enzo

If there was one thing I hated, it was my men's suffering silence after a mission gone wrong. Nobody said a word and yet there was so much to say. Thousands of questions swirled around in my head.

How did all this happen? Where did the shots come from? How many had we lost? How many injured are there? And who the hell is responsible for this crap?

I was just getting out of the stolen van we used to drive back when Caterina rushed down the front steps with a worried expression on her face. Her high heels clicked annoyingly with each of her small steps. I would like to just crush those shoes right now.

My nerves were on edge after today's events. I had just lost several of my men and I felt like demolishing something.

When she finally stood in front of me and the annoying clicking had finally stopped, she stopped short. Her blue eyes wandered over my torso and my blood-soaked shirt. She wrinkled her eyebrows and gently pushed my open shirt aside with her hand to get a better view of my gunshot wound.

"You have to come with me, this definitely needs treatment," Her gaze met mine and she tilted her head to the side. Her brown hair was up in a ponytail and as always she was wearing her white coat. She was our doctor. There was nothing she couldn't treat, but right now I didn't give a damn about my bleeding shoulder. I needed to speak to Dante.

"Where is he?" I asked her, pushing her hand away from me. Whatever happened earlier, it wasn't a coincidence. Someone had tried to finish us all off. And the way I know Dante, he smashed his whiskey glass against the wall when he found out about it.

"He's already waiting for you in the office," I nodded and went for the entrance. I opened the huge front door and only now did I realize that I had blood on my hands, which was now sticking to the doorknob. I Guess Mia would have to clean off my blood, again. 

I quickly climbed the stairs to the first floor, Dante's curses getting louder with every step. He was angry. Did he already know who was behind the attack?

I passed by several rooms before arriving in front of his office, pulling open the door when suddenly something shot past my head and splintered on the wall behind me.

"You tryna kill me as well?" I shouted at him as he looked at me, hate radiating from his eyes. He was far more pissed than I thought. So pissed that he just almost ended me with his whiskey glass.

"Shit boy, what the fuck happened out there? What is all that blood?" He flopped down in his giant chair, which he saw as his own throne, and grabbed a cigar from a small wooden box. While he was looking for a lighter, I closed the door behind me and took a seat in the black armchair in front of his desk and tried to be careful not to get the blood from my hands on it.

Not just his chair, but his entire office actually consisted of black furniture. In the middle was his huge wooden desk, with two armchairs in front of it. Behind it was a whole wall of glass cabinets with all sorts of documents about our employees, deals, businesses, real estate and enemies. On the left, there was a large window that gave some light to the dark room.

He barely kept anything on his desk except a lamp, his small box and a picture of a smiling woman in a dress on the beach. She seemed no more than mid-thirties and the way she smiled made it clear that she was happy.

I had already asked several times who this woman was, but he never wanted to give me an answer, so I didn't probe further. If he wanted to tell me, he would.

He blew out a cloud of smoke and looked at me expectantly. And so I started telling him about the shit show that went down before.

"Whatever it was, it was planned. We were closing the deal when the shots rang out," it was a mission like any other. Drugs were delivered, we checked if everything was there and when we wanted to hand over the money, the man in front of me fell to the ground after being shot in the head. My men immediately opened fire. It was a bloody mess. The Spaniards, whom we hadn't harmed, fired at us while the unknown assholes had their sights on all of us. 

We tried to make our way to the cars, but before I was able to get in, it exploded before my eyes. Three of my men were already inside when it happened.

Whatever direction the shots came from, we fired back and sought cover. Countless men from both sides fell dead. I managed to get rid of some Spaniards, but some of them were quick and were gone before I could catch them.

We found an empty van nearby which we simply broke open and drove back with it. It offered enough space for everyone who was left.

Seven.

Seven of the original two dozen men survived the attack despite suffering some wounds.

That was exactly what I told Dante. He kept giving me angry, hateful, and vindictive looks that would probably completely intimidate anyone. Just not me. After almost 18 years of getting to know him, I got used to his rants and now I even find them rather entertaining. He was the boss of the most feared mafia in the world and yet he couldn't fully control himself.

Of course this situation was a whole fucking mess. I wasn't thrilled either, but angry shouting wouldn't get us an inch forward.

"And you couldn't see any of the attackers?" he asked me for the fourth time in a row.

"No, they were hiding. I couldn't spot a single one" Before each deal, the area is thoroughly checked. And at today's check, everything was clean. So they knew exactly what they were doing. They even got close enough to place bombs in our damn cars. And I didn't fucking notice them.

"You have to find out who is responsible for this, boy" he got up from his chair and stood at the window. He always did that when a conversation was over. "And let your wounds be checked," he pointed to the chair. "I don't want blood on my furniture" he dismissed me with a last hand gesture.

I left his office and shit I should really get my shoulder checked. Up until now, I hadn't felt the pain at all, but the adrenaline from earlier was now completely gone and my shoulder was throbbing. The shot went through clean, but the crap could get infected and I was absolutely not in the mood for an infection. A long long night was waiting for me.