Repaying the Mafia’s Dept

Massimo

Tristan walks into my office with a stern expression on his face.

He messaged an hour ago requesting we meet as soon as possible. I had a meeting with some of our top investors, which I rearranged because I know when my brother requests to meet like this, it’s serious.

He skips past pleasantries and stalks to my desk. From the inside of his black biker jacket he takes out a white envelope and sets it down before me.Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

“You need to see this,” he states with a firm nod and an etch in his jaw.

I open the envelope straightaway and pull out a picture. My hands tense up when I see who’s on it.

It’s a man called Vlad Kuznetsov. He’s a Brava assassin who belongs to a group of assassins called the Circle of Shadows. More importantly, he’s supposed to be dead. I should know. I helped killed him, or so I thought.

“Where did you get this?” I ask.

Tristan pulls up a chair and sits. I expect the ashen look on his face. It was him who pulled the trigger. One lone bullet to the heart that should have killed the bastard who murdered his wife. Why am I looking at a picture of this man? A very recent photo, given the fucking date.

“Dominic,” Tristan says, running a hand over his beard.

The one-word answer is enough because Dominic can find shit you don’t even know is happening. Like this.

Tristan sighs and straightens up. “Our guys found Pierbo’s stuff in a dumpster near the docks. Some burned some not. A camera was amongst them. Smashed and burnt to a fucking crisp. Dominic was able to get the image from the chip. Massimo, look at the date when the picture was taken.”

I do again. My eyes snap wide when I realize it was Saturday. The date Pierbo supposedly killed himself.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

Vlad and his band of assassins are known enemies to anyone in the Italian Mafia and those in the Bratva who don’t fall part of his circle. Those of the Bratva who link up with them are few and far between.

“If he’s here, someone hired him,” I point out.

“Don’t I fucking know it. Fucking hell, Massimo. This knocked me for six. I thought I got this guy. I thought I killed his ass, yet here he is. I already felt like shit because he was the hand that dealt the blow to my Alyssa. But I never got the man who ordered the hit on her.”

I feel his pain as he speaks. Five years have passed, but I know he still feels the pain. Alyssa’s head was delivered to him in a box.

Mortimer Viggo is the elusive leader of the Shadows. None of us have ever seen him, and nobody knows how to find him. If Vlad is here, alive and well, Mortimer sent him. Just like he did when he sent him to kill Alyssa.

They took her the night of his wedding and sent her head in a box to Tristan, giftwrapped, the very next day. We then found her body in parts, scattered all over LA. That’s not something you get over. Tristan and Alyssa had been together since high school.

“Tristan. You know as well as I do that Mortimer Viggo is not an easy man to find.” I sound like a pussy for saying that. It’s the truth though. We must have searched all four corners of the globe for two years looking for that piece of shit and never found him.

I know it crushed Tristan to no end when it became clear that we had to give up the search. But now Vlad is back from the dead. His presence here in LA could only be happening if Mortimer Viggo ordered it.

“Fuck, Massimo.” He balls his fists and seethes. “I can’t tell you how screwed I feel right now.”

I get up and walk around to him and rest my hand on his shoulder. “We’ll get to the bottom of this. Please do not do anything until we have more information.” I want to tell him not to do anything stupid but think better of it.

I can’t say that to him. Whatever he chose to do would not be stupid in regard to retaliation and making sure the dead stay dead. I know him though. He’s a man like me. Vengeance is his when he decides. He hates feeling helpless or being in the dark about anything.

“I know if you were me, you’d do something about it,” Tristan points out.

“I am going to do something about it.” I just don’t want to lose my brother. Rest assured, that is exactly what would happen. I’d lose him. “Tristan. This guy has been a ghost for the last five years and suddenly resurfaces. Clearly, some plot of shit is happening.”

“Right under our noses,” he intones. I press my lips together. “Massimo, clearly, Pierbo died because he saw him. Vlad wouldn’t have wanted our guy to find out he was alive and back in our city.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” I agree. “I can’t allow him to do whatever it is he’s doing though.” The last five years were his get-out-of-jail card.

“You’d be rocking the nest, Massimo,” Tristan points out. Worry filling his eyes.

“I know.” Of course, I know. Rocking the fucking nest would stir trouble. I’m boss, and if Pa were boss, he would say the same as me. “We look into it, get our best men out there, and try to find him no matter where he is. We kill his ass and make sure we cut off his fucking head this time. For Alyssa.”

He releases a sharp breath and nods. “Thank you, brother. It’s a hard thing for a man to accept he was useless to the one person who needed him the most. Vlad and his band of fuckers stole her from me, and I never knew until it was too late. I keep remembering how it happened. I took her home. We were supposed to be leaving for our honeymoon the next day. I went into the kitchen to get the champagne, and when I came out, she was gone. That was it. The one thing I had to hold on to was killing him, but he’s not dead.”

“Tristan, let’s stay focused and get this guy. He declared war by coming back here.”

Before I got home, I went to the scene, the place where it all played out five years ago.

The Vincent Thomas Bridge. That is where Tristan and I thought we killed Vlad.

We were fighting on the bridge. Blow for blow, bullets flying. There were four of us in the end. Me and Tristan. Vlad and Aleksei, his right-hand man.

I stabbed Aleksei right in the eye and ended him. At the same time, Tristan shot Vlad. I saw it happen. They were paces away from me. That bullet went in his heart and he fell. He fell right over the bridge and even hit the panels before he went into the sea.

The bullet should have killed him instantly, but if that didn’t get him, the fall should have. The drop is three hundred and sixty-five feet. So, he should have been fucked either way. Yet Vlad is alive. Pierbo saw him and got caught.

I thought Riccardo had Pierbo killed. Now it makes sense. Pierbo was a force to be reckoned with. Only a man like Vlad Kuznetsov and the Circle of Shadows could take down a man like him. So, now I have more shit on my hands.

More things to get me dirty, and those close to me. Tristan said it well when he talked of rocking the nest. I would be doing exactly that. Rocking an ants’ nest. The thing about that, though, is that they don’t bother you until you disturb them.

When you do, they all come for you.

They come for you and wipe out whoever is with you.

Right now, we have the advantage. Vlad doesn’t know we know he’s alive. He must think he got us good with Pierbo’s death and destroying the camera.

There’s no way I’m going to be able to keep the fact that we know he’s alive quiet. To look for him, I’m gonna have to ask questions, meaning he’ll know we’re looking.

That’s the risk I’ll have to take.

I make my way home and walk into Emelia’s room. She’s asleep, and I don’t plan to wake her. The lights are out with just the moonlight spilling in onto her ethereal body.

She even looks like a princess in her sleep. Graceful with her dark locks flowing over the pillow and her hands rested at her sides.

The report on her today was that she was quiet. Priscilla said she barely spoke and did what she was told to do. She tried on her wedding dresses and didn’t like any. I don’t know if that means she was being difficult or if she genuinely didn’t like them.

The seamstress is coming back tomorrow. I don’t want to be a bastard and pick a dress for her. I already feel bad enough about the ring.

She stirs, as if she can sense me concocting shit. I back away quietly toward the door.

Emelia will be my wife in a few weeks.

Five years ago, I didn’t have anybody like that.

Now I do.

Rocking the nest to find Vlad means I’ll involve her too.

If I get it wrong, it won’t just be me I have to worry about.

I’ll have to worry about her too.