Rule 7 : Rage

CHAPTER 40: Vendetta On The Verenda.

Lord Maximus sank into a feathered,  cantilevered chair on the expansive balcony, the cityscape stretched out below him like a jeweled mosaic bathed in the pre-dawn glow. He crossed his legs, the sharp crease in his trousers mirroring the steely glint in his eyes.

"Buona sera, Signore Massimo"
(Good evening, Lord Maximus)

Lord Maximus raised an eyebrow. "Tagliati il ​​​​chiacchiericcio, Oscura. Sputa il rospo.
(Cut the chatter, Oscura. Spit it out.)"

Oscura scoffed. "Non c'è bisogno di essere così brusco, mio Signore. Ho informazioni."
(No need to be so rough, my Lord. I have information.)

A flicker of interest crossed Lord Maximus' face. He leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers. "Parla. E che sia succoso."
(Talk. Make it juicy.)
He commanded, his voice as hard and unforgiving as granite.

Oscura's voice, a gritty mumble, "Una nuova operazione in Francia. La voce dice che è grossa, la più grande che abbiano mai tentato. (A new operation in France. The research says it's big, the biggest they've ever tried.)"

He continued, "La fonte dell'informazione era l'irlandese."
(The source of the intel was the Irishman)

"Il l'irlandese ha evitato lo Shaque."
(The Irishman's been dodging the Shaque,) Lord Maximus growled. "Questa mancanza di impegno nel finalizzare gli affari è irritante!"
(This lack of commitment to finalizing deals is infuriating!)

"Con l'Interpol e la polizia coinvolte,"
(With Interpol and the police involved) Oscura replied, "pulling this off cleanly might be difficult."

"He's the source of the intel." Lord Maximus squeezed his eyes shut.
"Il irlandese deve confrontarmi direttamente per un accordo finale."
(The Irishman must confront me directly for a final agreement.)

"Ah," Oscura mentioned, "assumo che lui non sia a conoscenza della tua meritata vacanza?"
(I take it he's unaware of your well-deserved vacation?)

"Oscura," Lord Maximus's voice was clipped. "State attenti. Le mie vacanze non sono un lasciapassare per trascurare il Shaque, capiche?" (Listen up. My vacation ain't a free pass to slack on the Shaque, understand?)

"Forte e chiaro, Signore."
(Loud and clear, Lord)
Oscura replied smoothly.
"Capisco che stai dedicando questo tempo a pianificare operazioni cruciali."
(I understand you're taking this time to strategize crucial operations.)

"Buono," (Good) Lord Maximus replied, a dangerous edge to his voice. "Because when I get back, I expect a full report. Directly from the source, you hear?"

"Sembra che tornare richiederà un po' di tempo."
(Sounds like getting back will take a while.) Oscura said urgently. "This operation needs a clean and quick execution."

"So, what about this operation?" Lord Maximus demanded, frustration lacing his voice. Oscura hesitated for a moment before revealing, "C'è qualcosa che dovresti sapere, Signore Massimo..."
(There's something you should know, Lord Maximus...)

"Ti ha detto qualcosa di specifico?"
(Did he tell you anything specific?)
Lord Maximus interrupted.

A slight hesitation crackled over the line. Finally, Oscura spoke. "Capo, there's a new score on the table. But with all your irons in the fire, I am not sure if you'd be interested."

Lord Maximus scoffed. The Irishman's tardiness had already cost him valuable time. "Dov'è nascosto l'irlandese ? Perché questo improvviso bisogno di sussurrarmi all'orecchio? Spiegati, Oscura. Qual è il lavoro?"
(Where's the Mick hiding? Why this sudden itch to whisper in my ear? Spill it, Oscura. What's the job?)
His words were sharp, suspicion dripping from every syllable.

Oscura's voice dropped to a murmur, "L'irlandese ha menzionato una nuova operazione, una grande. In Spagna, dicono. Una proprietà reale – un colpo da un miliardo di euro, a quanto pare. Una statua d'oro e una sorta di fonte minerale sono coinvolte."
(The Irishman mentioned a new operation, a big one. Spain, they say. A royal property – a billion-euro heist, apparently. A golden statue and some kind of mineral source are involved.)

Lord Maximus's voice grew hard as stone. "Not interested," he declared, the word a bullet fired down the line. "L'irlandese è stato un peso morto per troppo lungo. Consideralo fuori questione per me. Qualcos'altro?"
(The Irishman's been a dead weight for too long. Consider it off the table for me. Anything else?)

Static pulsed on the line, a pregnant pause before Oscura spoke. "There's one more thing, Lord Maximus..."

Oscura faltered for a moment before continuing. "Sembra che anche Don Conti abbia messo gli occhi sull'operazione."
(Looks like Don Conti's also got his eye on the operation.)
Oscura revealed. "Got wind of it somehow, but the Irishman wouldn't budge on his request. Instead, he specifically told me to bring it to your attention."

Lord Maximus's fist clenched around the phone, the plastic digging into his palm. "Conti," he snarled, the name a viper slithering through gritted teeth.

Oscura cleared his throat, the sound rough and dry. "Sì, Signore Massimo."
(Yes, Lord Maximus.)
His voice hitched slightly.  "I think the Irishman means well, even if he is my padrone. But I'm damned if I know why he still refuses to show his face."

A beat of tense silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the faint whine of the connection.

Maximus's voice dripped with icy contempt. "Certo che lo fa." (Of course he does.) He drawled, each word a slow, deliberate threat. "That must be why he sent you, his errand boy. Too scared to grease his own palms, the gutless weasel."

Lord Maximus glanced back, a scowl furrowing across his face as he realized Dr. Martini had vanished. The silence coiled, taut as a violin string. He clenched his jaw, the muscles flexing beneath the skin. Finally, he returned his gaze to the sprawling veranda, the city lights twinkling like scattered diamonds amidst a veil of cigar smoke.

Oscura's voice, a sibilant whisper, "Lord Maximus... I smell a rat. I sense a conspiracy brewing, una tempesta che si avvicina all'orizzonte.
(a storm gathering on the horizon)

Maximus's voice rumbled like distant thunder. "And the Irishman? Sta giocando a un doppio gioco con questa operazione?
(Is he playing a double game with this operation?)
He needs to make himself scarce and face me directly. Don Conti may crave control, ma nessuno può reggere l'ombra di Maximus Salvatore.
(but no one can stand in the shadow of Maximus Salvatore)"

"Trasmetterò il tuo messaggio al mio capo. Il tuo tempo è molto apprezzato, Signore Massimo." (I'll relay your message to my boss. Your time is well appreciated, Lord Maximus)

"Good of you, Oscura," Lord Maximus replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Non deludermi."
(Don't disappoint me)

The phone went dead in his hand, a sharp click severing the connection. He slammed the phone down on the marble tabletop, the sound echoing in the stillness of the dawn.

"Don Conti," he mumbled under his breath, crushing the cigarette he wasn't even smoking in the ashtray, flecks of tobacco scattering across the sleek table.

"Mannaggia!"
(Damn it!)
I need a smoke." He paused as if calculating. "France? His eyes narrowed, a vein throbbing in his temple as he tapped his fingers impatiently on the armrest.

Quegli idioti non hanno ancora imparato la lezione? (Haven't those idiots learned their lesson yet?)"

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