King of the Don's

four

Vaughn

It had been a very long day. Too long a fuckin' day. First and foremost I had a raging headache from listening to all the bullshit I had to endure, part of which contained listening to complaints from grown ass men, about grown ass men.

It was an annoying aspect of my job, but I didn't have to deal with complaining people all that frequently. Most of the time, I could get away with sending an email and making a decision, but sometimes, harsh punishments had to be handed out. It was a ruthless part of the job, but I had to be that way to stay the king of Don's.

But my job was not only settling disputes between the different families, I also had to maintain relations with local and federal law enforcement. I made sure peace stays maintained, and punish those who violate the laws of the families. On top of maintaining relations, I owned several legitimate business as well. A couple of bars, casinos and nightclubs here and there, as well as investment in several different agencies.

But a huge downside of the job, was the fact that I had to listen to petty complains, like the email I was reading now. My eyes were burning from looking at my computer screen for too long, when I heard a knock on my door.

I immediately knew it was it was Rich, my underboss. Richard Fonzo, who we typically referred to as Rich, was about ten years my senior, making him right around forty-four years old. He was, at one time, my fathers underboss and good enough at advising that it kept him alive for as long as it had. But while Rich was helpful, he was also old fashioned in many ways.

He didn't hide much of anything, not his desire to see me wed a beautiful girl, which was the last thing that I wanted to do, nor his desire to see me produce an heir.

I knew it was Rich at the door, due to the annoying knock he insisted on doing. I turned off my computer monitor, and cracked my neck, knowing already this was going to be stressful.

I looked at the clock and realized it was almost one a.m., which irritated me beyond belief. Nothing good ever happens at this time. Plus, I needed to get some fuckin' sleep.

I yelled out for Rich to come in, and once he did I saw the solemn look on his aging face, "Sorry to bother you this late Don, is now an okay time?" He asked, and I scoffed, "Is it ever?"

He let out a chuckle, "I guess not. I just had some information to drop by you." He told me, and I motioned for him to continue, "Well, for the good news, Carter Pruitt did well with his promotion, his first solo drug run was a success, everything went smoothly." He notified me, "Okay, that's good." I told him about the better part of the news, "Now what's that bad news?"

"Do you remember Jordan Anforth? The young male, we've been looking for for the last couple of weeks?"

I nodded my head, indicating a yes and he continued, "Well, Hanson and Carl had a mishap with the boy tonight. I needed to run a few things by you to see what you wanted to do." He told me, and I put down my pen, and ran a hand through my hair.

"A mishap?" I parroted, my face turning into an immediate frown, and he nodded his head, "They were sent to the Bar on eighth street after Jordan Anforth was seen there, and when they found him, they took him to one of the back room's to finish the job. As it turns out, there was someone hiding under the table. A young girl."

I clenched my fists and sat up a little straighter, "They didn't think to check and clear the area?" I gritted out, and he coughed, "I guess not, so I will send them in later for their discipline, but we have more important matters." He told me, and I cleared my throat, "And this girl, she saw and heard everything?" I confirmed.

"Well, I'm not sure that she heard everything, but she definitely witnessed it." He told me, and I furrowed my brows, "What do you mean she didn't hear anything?" I scowled at him, "If she was in the room, hiding under the table, then she heard it."

He looked uncomfortable at his next words, "Well, Carl read her license and it said she was deaf, but he wasn't sure how deaf she really was because he said that she talked pretty normal. Also, from what I understood from him, she could hear." He continued, "So he doesn't exactly know what she heard, but she saw Anforth dead, that's for sure."

"That makes no fuckin' sense," I corrected, "If someone is deaf, that means that they can not hear anything." I told him, and he shrugged, "That was all that got said."

I rolled my eyes at Hanson's utter incompetence, "How did he even find her?"

"Hanson saw her bag lying on the ground, squatted down to check it out. Says the girl made a run for it, and saw both their faces."

"At least he was smart enough to do that," I scoffed, realizing this was the last thing I needed to end a terrible day, "And I'm guessing she's still alive?"

"Yes sir. Carl and Hanson did not want to kill her, they wanted to see what you want done with her first." Rich told me, and I nodded my head. It would've been easier had they just killed her to save me from doing it, but it had been a while since I got my hands dirty with a prisoner.

But before I jumped the gun, I needed to know who our prisoner is. "So if she is still alive, I assume we know by now we who she is?"

"Yes, sir. Her name is Briar James. Drivers license got passed it down to Kane in IT to do a full work up and background check. He is going to try and find whatever else he can, too. We should know more about her by morning at least," He told me, then his frown turned upward, "Well, that's if she makes it that long. Carl gave her a double dose of ketamine, so I'd be surprised if she makes it until tomorrow morning." He let out a laugh, and I shook my head at his words.

Unlike Rich, I didn't relish in killing, especially young women. But it was how things had to be done. I couldn't just let someone who saw, and potentially heard my men physically murder someone, and walk away unscathed, or even alive.

It wasn't like she would be able to do much with the information she learned tonight. I had plenty of connections in the Boston Police Department, half of which were on my payroll. Then, I had even more connections all over the U.S., and several other parts of the world. Still, the Don's under me could hear, and leniency had no business in actual business, especially the mafia.

"She's in the basement?" I questioned, and Rich nodded his head, "She is. They brought her here about twenty minutes ago. That fucker gave her almost double the recommended dose of that shit, I guess he overestimated how much to give her, and it knocked her out cold. She probably won't be up for hours." Rich explained, and I was relieved that I finally had good news. I can't interrogate a knocked out prisoner, meaning I was free to go the fuck to bed.

"I will deal with all this shit in the morning." I told Rich, and he got up from his chair in front of my desk, "Yes, boss. I will see you in the morning then." He turned to give me a look, "And to get some sleep."

He left my office, and I stood up from my desk, cracking my knuckles, placing my paperwork back into my neat piles. I was very particular about how I wanted my documents, I didn't need everything being out of order.

I left my office and then locked the door behind me. As I was walking toward my room, I had the sudden urge to go down to the basement, but I disregarded. I was too tired, and needed to call it a night.

Once I made it to my bedroom, I got ready for bed. I laid down and tried to sleep, but I found it wasn't going to be that easy tonight. I had pretty bad insomnia, therefore I hardly ever slept that well, but tonight seemed worse. I tossed and turned the whole night, and around five a.m., I finally fell the fuck to sleep.
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