Soren Bianchi [+18]

6. On a leash

SOREN BIANCHI
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"Capo?" My right hand man Giovanni De Luca, called out to me.

"Sì?"

"They're bringing in Max." He said , wiping his gun as if polishing it for his next victim. Being the 'Capo' of the Italian mafia was not fun, sure it had its perks in terms of wealth, but the scum I had to deal with was sickening.

As head of the Bianchi family , my father vowed to never be the man that murders innocent men , he raised me to be the same. So, now I offer protection. And right now, I was protecting a middle aged couple , sweet people.

They owned a small laundromat down the street and Maximus Bentori was a vile man. He was trying to take advantage of the woman. And, I was raised by Lucia Bianchi. My role model and the only person Enrico Bianchi feared.

My mother raised me to be a gentleman. To never raise my voice at a woman , to never look at a woman without permission. To protect any woman that needed my help.

So, when Lila Daruma approached me and informed me that Maximus was crossing a boundary that should be punishable by death. I stepped in.

He tried to ruin a family business, he tried to take away their livelihood and their bread and butter. The couple only had each other as their children had moved away for college and their own lives.

I hated men , and Maximus was the worst right now. The chauvinistic pig was in for a treat. Not only was a he a kingpin in the district , he put a target on my men's back.

And for me loyalty runs deep. I will die for my men as I know they would do the same for me.
My men serve under the Bianchi family , a generation for years and years.

We had bought a string of warehouses on the outskirts of town in a barren land. The only forms of life were the cars that drove through the intersection. We had the area secluded with large and tall walls , enclosed with electric fencing and fingerprint scanners. I looked at the CCTV camera screens and watched as the convoy pulled onto the dirt road of the warehouse.

Gio went outside , while slipped on my latex/surgical gloves. I removed my watched, placing on the table , along with my phone. I rolled up my sleeves and swiped the hair flopping into my eyes. My phone buzzed with a text message notification.

Aurora.

Amore: don't forget you're picking me up today.

Me: I'd never forget. If I didn't have a car. I'd walk to you and carry you on my back if I had to.

Amore: kissing ass will get you nowhere.

I decided to leave her response on delivered. I needed to get her out my head so I could get back to business. I couldn't have her on my mind , knowing that I would soon have blood on my hands.

I wanted to tell her about my lifestyle, but I was scared that she'd run for the hills. That she'd never want to talk to me or see me again. And truth be told, when I had met her that one faithful night , thanks to a friend back in the States, I knew she'd bring me to my knees.

When I saw her , I knew she'd break me. She walked with purpose. She captured the room with her ethereal beauty. She stood there like a token of the heavens. An angel walking the face of the earth.

The night I held her body and kissed her lips , I knew I was a goner. When she graciously accepted my offer to dance, I knew I lost. I spent one whole year thinking about her, despite me telling her it was a "one time" thing and that it was one last night of fun. It was I who fell encompassed by her, it was I that wanted to get to know. And when I saw her in the airport, she didn't recognize me, but I would never forget a goddess like her.