The Mob Boss's Son (Revised)

The Deal

Vincent Rizzitelli stood at his window waiting for his guest to arrive at his home. As he waited, he was watched the sun set over the mountains surrounding the Los Angeles city skyline, his city.

Today was an exceptionally beautiful day to Vincent as he was in a good mood. After 20 years of building his organization from the ground up with his wit and bloody bare hands, he was finally going to acquire his ultimate goal. Something that had been eluding him for decades.

He saw the familiar black Cadillac pull into his driveway, his guest had arrived. The driver stepped out of the luxurious car and was instantly greeted by Giorgio San Cono, Vincent's loyal best friend and underboss of his organization. He watched the two men shake hands and Giorgio led the guest into the house. It wasn't long before Giorgio knocked on the office door.

Vincent took his seat behind his heavy oak desk.

"Come in," he said.

The door opened and his guest walked in first and Giorgio followed.

"Willie," Vincent said as if he were truly surprised. He stood up and walked over to the man. They shook hands and Vincent pulled him into an Italian styled hug. This caused Giorgio to to raise a curious eyebrow at the embrace as Willie was not Italian, he was black.

"How are you?" Vincent asked as he pulled away.

Willie gave him a grim look, he stayed silent letting Vincent know that this discussion was only for the two of them.

"Could you give us a moment?" Vincent asked Giorgio, who looked at Willie suspiciously. "It's alright, Giorgio." he assured.

With one last look at Willie, Giorgio left the office. Willie took a seat on a sofa that was pushed against a window. He began staring out at the sunset just as Vincent was doing a moment ago. Vincent went to his liquor cabinet and took out a bottle of homemade gin gifted to him by Willie.

"Drink?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Nah, none for me." Willie replied.

Vincent poured himself a hefty amount of gin and took a long swig. He took his seat and stared at Willie who was still looking out the window.

"What happened?" he asked.

Willie shifted in his seat, what he had to say was going to be something big, Vincent knew that much. In 20 years of being in business with Willie he never seen his associate so lost for words.

William Clearwater was the richest black man in Southern California. He had the utmost respect of the people in his community and from the business. The bootlegging business. Vincent genuinely knew Willie was a respectable man, enough so that he kept his children far away from his affairs as possible. Vincent admired him very much, as it was Willie's help that made his empire possible.

Willie looked at him. His eyes were red, Vincent knew this look was of a man fighting back tears that threaten to spill down his face. This look was of a man that felt as if he were going to lose everything.

"Willie," Vincent said again, this time with compassion. "What is going on?"

William Clearwater sighed and stood up. He began slowly pacing the floor hanging his head low.

"I just came back from the doc's," he began and shook his head. "It isn't good."

"What isn't good?" Vincent asked.

Willie stopped and looked at him. In this very moment, they were not business associates discussing how much Willie would charge for ten cases of hooch. Both of these men were talking as friends.