Mafia Kings: Valentino: Dark Mafia Romance Series #6 by Olivia Thorn

Mafia Kings: Valentino: Chapter 36

I nearly had a heart attack when the brass alarm clock went off at 4:15.

Fucking Don fuckin’ Vicari –

After I slammed the fucking clock so it shut up, I thought about staying there in bed for a few minutes longer…

But I remembered the mafia don’s warning:

We don’t take kindly to lateness or laziness around here.

Besides, my heart was racing so hard after having a goddamn cymbal factory wake me up that I decided to just get going.

Since I only had a bathtub, I did a quick once-over with a washcloth. Then I dressed in slacks and a white linen shirt, took the copy of Milk and Honey with me, and made my way groggily down the hall.

An old servant lady was in the kitchen. It was pitch black outside, but she was already hard at work getting breakfast ready for the family.

She’d prepared me a plate of cold cuts, cheeses, grapes, and rough brown bread. Not exactly a fancy breakfast, but it tasted good.

More important was the strong coffee she’d brewed in a metal pot. The kitchen didn’t have a fancy espresso machine, but the oily black liquid she’d fixed was twice as strong. I was wired by the time I finished my second cup.

Just as I was finishing up, a clean-shaven guy walked into the kitchen. He couldn’t have been any older than me. He had jet-black hair and was about my height with a wiry build – maybe not super-strong, but definitely not weak.

He wore a cheap black suit like Don Vicari’s guys at the hotel yesterday, but he styled his hair very carefully with gel.

“Hey, boss, you good to go?” he asked.

“You my driver?” I asked.

“Yes I am. The name’s Paulo.”

With just that little exchange, Paulo was more talkative than 95% of the other Sicilians who worked for Don Vicari – and a hell of a lot friendlier.

“Cool, I’m Valentino. Let’s do it,” I said as I stood and picked up the book of poetry. Then I told the kitchen lady, “Thanks for breakfast.”

She just nodded silently and went back to work.

Like I said: talkative.

Paolo led the way outside, where a black Alfa Romeo SUV was parked on the gravel drive. Over the scrunch of the rocks beneath our feet, I heard a familiar sound clanking far away in the darkness.

“Are those cows?” I asked, astounded they would be up that early.

“Yeah. The fuckers never shut up,” Paolo said. “‘Scuse my French.”

“Speak French all you want,” I said as I got in the front passenger seat.

Paolo looked at me in surprise as he got behind the wheel.

“I’m not a little old lady you need to fuckin’ chauffeur around,” I told him.

“Alright, then,” he grinned, and started the engine.

We talked as Paolo made his way through the winding roads in the hills.

We were both a little wary of saying too much – especially about his employer and my future father-in-law – but I found out a lot about the family operation.

“Rocco’s basically the capo of the south side of Sicily,” Paolo explained, using the word for ‘boss’ that described a Cosa Nostra leader just below the don and consigliere. For instance, Adriano was capo of Florence. “His brothers-in-law Tony and Santiago work for him. You met his sisters Abriana and Marcella yesterday, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, recalling the don’s other two daughters. “Work for him doing what, exactly?”

“Ahhh, you know,” Paolo said evasively.

“No, I don’t.”

Paolo glanced over at me. “Word is you’re from another family.”

He meant another Cosa Nostra family.

“Yeah, so?”

“So… you know.”

I sighed in exasperation. “Our operation was mostly bribing judges, cops, and politicians.”

“Oh.” Paolo smiled tightly. “Well, this ain’t that.”

“What is it, then?”

“Collections, mostly.”

meant protection

“From who?”

mostly. They take a cut from

Great.

meant they did all the

though,” Paolo said with an edge of nervousness

I’ll play stupid,” I promised.

“Uhhh… he’s… interesting.”

“Interesting how?”

paused for a second, then said, “What we say in the car stays in

“Absolutely.”

You could say Rocco’s got a

man syndrome,” I

“Exactly.”

felt the need to overcompensate

Good to know.

really three hours to where

“‘Fraid so.”

I pulled out Milk and

“Huh. Didn’t figure you for

not,” I sighed.

Don’s daughter.

seems that way,” I

Paolo said

over at him like, You

an arranged marriage, huh?” Paolo

“Yeah,” I said grimly.

thought that shit went out of style fifty years

“So did I.”

marrying her than getting up at

admitted.

poetry itself – but that Isabella was

smiled. She was smuggling stuff into the house that Don Vicari wouldn’t approve of,

a rebel in the

like ouzo, a Greek liqueur that

love it, but I’m not a fan. And I definitely

put the book down, and

gonna take a

it, boss,”

the hum of the engine and gentle vibration from the car, I was out in just

Kings: Valentino: Chapter

up, we were driving along the coast. The sun was sparkling over the Mediterranean as

out?” I asked as I squinted

“Maybe an hour.”

even close yet,

little more than halfway. We just passed

had no idea where Catania was, but now I knew it was about halfway

all the times I’d woken up

have given just about anything

would’ve

least call her, though. I’d memorized her number a

borrow your phone?”

was the one thing they told

answer, but it pissed

“‘They’?” I asked.

he clarified. “Which he

Don Vicari your

my

you loaned it to me,” I said, then added, “What happens in the car stays in the

they’d chop my dick off if they

so I can see where the fuck we’re going? I have no idea where Pozzallo is,

seriously, don’t go callin’ or texting any

“I won’t,” I grumbled.

thing I really wanted

that Pozzallo was on

the blue line to see what else we

“Holy shit!” I exclaimed.

“What?”

“Rosolini’s on the way!”

a weird look.

my last name is Rosolini! My

“Huh,” Paolo said noncommittally.