Buried

CHAPTER 32 | under new management

A/N.  Hello my lovelies, and welcome back for the next installment of our illicit rendezvous ;-)

I hope you are all well and ready to face the new week.  Since I last checked we have been joined by readers from .... drum roll please ..... Zimbabwe, Angola, Jordan, Syria, Iran, Azerbaijan, Turkey, Bangladesh, Macedonia, Albania, Montenegro, Slovakia, Bahamas, Panama, Colombia, Venezuela and Argentina.  Welcome to you all.

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M.

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Despite the relaxed and jovial atmosphere the restaurant in the heart of New York exuded, the table of four were anything but. To an outsider, they looked like a group of businessmen having dinner after a hard day at work.

"You should be happy," Frank said as he eyed up his meal which had just been served. The large rib eye steak was making Ambrose's cousin visibly salivate. "It's all gone according to plan," he said as he began to attack the meat with vigour.

Ambrose wasn't so sure. Until they had the remaining two families within their control, anything was possible. The first three were marginally easier to get to. Over the years, he had built up a network of spies within those families. He knew their weaknesses and who the players were.

The Lagliano, Luciano and Profaci's were easy pickings. They didn't know what had hit them. In a matter of seventy-two hours, he had walked into New York City and had taken over sixty percent of its organised crime. No longer would they be able to dictate what he could, and what he could not do, with his organisation. Instead, he would be the one setting terms.

A wicked smile escaped as he recalled the events from the previous evening. After dispatching the Profaci acting boss and his underboss, Ambrose had summoned the remaining lieutenants and captains. As expected, those loyal to their downed colleagues were less that happy with the situation. Their immediate reaction had been to send word to their Don, who was currently serving a life sentence in prison. Ambrose knew he needed to show them who they were up against. Otherwise, he would struggle with the transition.

He gave the group a chance to vent their opinion. The few brave enough to do so hadn't finished their sentence when one of his men had, in the blink of an eye, navigated across the room. A moment later he had broken not only the most vocal of the lieutenant's neck but the person on either side of him.

By the time the third man had spoken out, and the ninth person had fallen to the ground, they were all very much aware that the men who had brought their house down, were anything but normal. Ambrose knew that Carmine Lombardo would hear about his organisations fall in due course. Even in prison he had a deep reach into his business. But by then, it would be too late. Anyone loyal to him would suffer the same fate as the others.

"So you're sure the others will come for us?" Frank asked from beside him.

Ambrose scanned the restaurant, wary of the other customers. Seeing no immediate danger, he focused on his meal. "They have no choice," he shrugged, "they know we'll strike sometime tonight. They'll want to bring the fight to us."

"We'll be ready," was Frank's only response.

"Hey boss," asked Angelo, one of his men who had been successfully turned, "E's being gone a while. What happens if it goes down before he gets back?"

Ambrose stabbed his fork into his steak. Even the reference to the Werewolf set his teeth on edge. "He's out the back fucking one of the waitresses'. I only hope if he kills her he has the decency to hide the body this time," he grumbled.