𝗙𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗕𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗩𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗮 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲.
I never thought my world would crumble at the hands of a man like Alessandro Rossi-a 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 draped in silk suits and ruthlessness. One moment, I was Yasenia Fraga, daughter of the...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I'd sent out invitations to the bosses of the other four families, asking them to meet me and Miguel here in Vigo for something important. This meeting was about locking in my decision and cementing an alliance between the New York Famiglia and Los Gallegos. As the Famiglia's Don, it was on me to make sure the other bosses fell in line with what I had planned.
The air in Miguel's warehouse—a place that used to belong to Don Juan Fraga—reeked of cigars and rich Italian coffee. A massive walnut table dominated the room, surrounded by big leather chairs. The four bosses were already there, sipping coffee and puffing on cigars, looking uneasy. I didn't blame them. We were on Los Gallegos' turf—former enemies. But today, that dynamic was about to shift.
"Benvenuti a tutti, (Welcome everyone)" I said, sliding into the chair at the head of the table. "Apprezzo il tuo tempo (I appreciate your time)."
Don Giuseppe gave me a nod and replied, "Don Alessandro, siamo onorati di ricevere il tuo invito (we are honored to receive your invitation)."
I glanced at Miguel, who sat at the opposite end of the table, mirroring my position. "As you all know," I began, gesturing toward him, "this is my good friend Miguel Castillo, Don of Los Gallegos."
The bosses gave him polite nods, showing the respect a man in his position deserved.
I leaned back in my chair, lighting up a cigar myself before speaking again. "Let's get straight to it," I said, locking eyes with each boss. "You all know what Galicia is—it's the main gateway for Colombian cocaine into Europe. And Los Gallegos have smuggling networks so tight and well-connected, no one else comes close. Miguel here runs a well-oiled machine, and that's exactly why we need this alliance."
The bosses exchanged glances, silently acknowledging the obvious.
"With Miguel's help, we won't just be sending product across the Atlantic to the States. We'll be distributing straight from Galicia to the biggest markets in Europe—France, Germany, Italy, you name it. It's a game-changer. The profits are bigger than anything we've seen before. And more importantly, it keeps us ahead of the competition."
I paused to take a slow drag of the cigar, just to let my words sink in.
Don Giuseppe turned to face me and smirked, the kind of smile that told me he was on the same page. "Don Alessandro is right. This alliance means power—real power," he said. "Not just for the Famiglia, but for all of us sitting at this table. Together, we'll control the flow, the distribution, and the money."
I nodded in satisfaction, looking back at the bosses, waiting for their reactions.
Don Angelo De Laurentiis, the boss of the De Laurentiis family, leaned back in his chair, swirling his coffee. "It's a bold plan, Don Alessandro. But I can't help wondering—why didn't your father do this when he was Don? If he didn't consider this alliance, maybe there was a reason. Maybe he knew something we don't. Like why we shouldn't trust the Los Gallegos."
