TWSITED HEARTS ONE
They hate each other so much, they can't seem to stay away.
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Alex Castillo the troublemaking, multimillionaire with a cocky and charming face to make any ladies to go down on their knees. But never in his life has he seen a...
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𝒜𝓁𝑒𝓍
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The past weeks have been weird, from saving a girl who rejected me, to her friends trying to track me down, and then now, where I'm back to my old life. I walk down this alleyway as Aiden and Xander load the truck with the boxes and crates of weapons and drugs. Devon always tells me that I need to stop selling weapons and drugs, doing illegal marketing but once I've gotten enough money to survive fifty lives. Then I'll give my spot to my trustworthy underboss, Aiden, and he will take the spot as the don.
I walk back to the truck as Aiden and Xander greet me. I count the boxes, two dozen crates with weapons, and three dozen boxes of drugs. We're missing another five dozen boxes of weapons and drugs, which is weird because the deadline for them to be delivered is today. I threatened the motherfucker to deliver it safely here today, at 10 pm. It's 11:35 pm.
And now where is it?
"Where are the boxes from Francis Falcone?" I ask the guys. Francis Falcone and I have been working together for a decade now and nothing has gone wrong until now.
"Don, the five dozen boxes never came to us," Xander says as he shrugs. Who could've been able to steal the boxes, especially when we arrived earlier than the delivery time?
I tell them both to bring the crates that we have right now down to the safe house. I dig in my pockets, trying to find my phone. I dial Falcone's phone number as I lean against my bike waiting for the motherfucker to answer the phone.
"Hello, Mr. Castillo." He greets me with an Italian accent that always drives me nuts.
"Falcone, where the fuck are my boxes?" I shout at the phone letting all my annoyance and anger out on a damn phone. It doesn't help but it will scare the shit out of Falcone.
"Castillo, it has been delivered by my loyal American friend, Matthew Christensen," he says with small stutters in his words. Matthew Christensen? That fucker. He tried to advertise his mafia organization a few years ago, but I assumed it would fail. He didn't have anyone, I know he has a wife and a son, but not that he has access to packages from Italy.
"For fucks sake!" I shout.
"Who is this loyal friend of yours!" I shout, letting the whole city hear me as I feel my voice echoing in my throat.
"I-I've told you, Matthew Christensen, he introduced me to his high-tech delivery. He delivered the packages from 3 months ago." He explains. Matthew Christensen is getting smarter, and bigger, he can't achieve New York. He can find another city, but New York is ours, not his.
"Falcone you better send me 10 dozen boxes to me by my man, Aiden Walker, not any loyal Americans of yours. If I don't see 10 dozen boxes at my safe house within three days, I will murder your daughter myself." I threaten, but before he can answer my threat, I hang up the phone, feeling the annoyance creep into me even further. Bullshit.
