Bottom's Up To The Mafia Boss (MXM Novel)

Chapter Twenty: A Dream To Remind

Fen

"Sir, why didn't you kill him?" Reynaldo asked, interrupting the silence suddenly, his finger tapping nervously against the wheel.

I could feel from the tense atmosphere in the car that it was a question that he had been itching to ask ever since I had let the sniveling little rat go and I had expected it, although it surprised me that my men would have the courage to question me.

"I find him useful," I answered after a beat, staring out the deeply-tinted window. The sleek, black Maserati ate up the empty road ahead of us, the comforting sound of the engines humming silently in the background as Reynaldo pressed lightly on the gas pedal. All I could think about was getting home as soon as possible and checking into Warren Dale's room under my own discretion, without my men's attentive eyes scrutinizing me.

"He's a rat," Leroy added, encouraged by his colleague's inquiry. "We don't let rats live to tell the tale."

"You are correct, Leroy," I mused, still staring out the window. "But, he's a rat I can use, remember? Plus he gave us everything we needed to know."

Both men remained silent as if they couldn't seem to fathom the reason for my mercy. The truth was, I had planned to kill Pablo Gonzalez the moment I laid eyes on his wretched face, but I changed my mind–not because he had a family to go back to, but because he could be my informant, even if it was temporary. It was better to have eyes on the street, better to have eyes on him in case he was ever up to something shady, so in my book, it was a win-win.

"How do you plan to use him, Sir?" Reynaldo muttered, still tapping nervously on the wheel. His dark eyes flashed up, meeting mine in the rearview mirror.

"It's simple, really. He said he owns other warehouses and pretty soon, one of them will be sniffing around to place my shipment into a discreet location. Once that happens, Pablo will inform me immediately," I stated, tilting my head slightly to meet his eyes.

Reynaldo averted his eyes quickly, focusing on the road in front of me. Leroy shifted in his seat beside me, seeming unsettled by the uneasy quiet. Silence ensued once more and continued all the way until we had reached the familiar sight of my mansion.

Just as I was about to leave the car, Reynaldo spoke, his fingers tensing visibly on the tops of the wheel. I had been observing his behavior ever since we had reached the warehouse and while he seemed perfectly composed, his body language revealed much more. Leroy was aware of it, but didn't seem to have the heart to comment, waiting patiently beside me as the car was put on idle.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Reynaldo?" I was expecting his incoming question and wondered why it was taking him so long to ask it.

"Do you think...they're still alive?"

"I can't guarantee it," I admitted in a low voice, meeting his eyes through the rearview mirror. "But, the sooner we find where they are and where those bastards put the container, the higher the chance that they are all alive, including your aunt."

"I understand." His reply was stiff, his shoulders bowing down slightly.

Both Reynaldo and Leroy had been with me ever since I had stepped up into my role, five years ago, as the youngest mafia power in the states and although we had kept our contract professional, there were moments like this where I couldn't help but sympathize for him. For him, this mission was personal, it involved family members who had been trafficked from Cuba into the states under the guise of illegal immigration, and I had made it my purpose to obtain all of them, even if it meant that it was my business at stake.