Blood Moon: Bought by the Mafia Alpha

Chapter 20: The Quiet Before the Storm

Adan

When I walked toward the Eastern Canyon Resort, Fletcher Reed's men were standing on either side of the door. They nodded to me as I skipped up the stairs with my men following close behind.

"Don Cole." One of the men nodded as I passed.

I returned the nod and headed toward the main dining room, sure that he would want to meet here instead of in a private area. There was less chance that I would kill him here. Even though we have had a mutual respect over the years, one can never be too careful.

"Mason, you and the boys wait here."

"Yes, Boss."

I left them in the foyer and headed into the main dining room. One of the men followed me but stopped just outside in the foyer, slipping inconspicuously into the shadows.

A pretty, blonde hostess approached, but I hardly noticed. "Don Cole?" She smiled, her eyes filled with interest. "Don Reed is expecting you. Right this way."

She walked ahead, and I saw Fletcher sitting at a table in the corner, his back to the wall, of course. I would have my back exposed, but that was okay. My men always had my back... literally.

The hostess nodded, motioning toward Fetcher, who rose to his feet and buttoned his suit coat.

"Have the first course brought out, Sandra." Fletcher looked over at me and smiled, extending his hand. "Adan."

I shook it, nodding sharply. "Fletcher."

"Please, sit and make yourself comfortable." He motioned toward the chair across from him as he poured the wine. "I took the liberty of choosing one of my best vintages." He set the bottle on the table and leaned in conspiratorially. "Unless you'd like something stronger."

I shook my head, sliding the cloth napkin over my lap. "It's fine. It's still early yet."

"As they say, it's five o'clock somewhere." He chuckled as he sat back down and took a sip of his wine, smacking his lips. "Um... I do enjoy a good Bordeaux."

I lifted my glass. "As do I."

Two waiters brought out plates filled with Caprese Chicken and a loaf of Italian bread as an appetizer. Then a waiter poured olive oil into two saucers, sprinkled in seasoning, and gently shook the plates. When he was finished, he bowed slightly and headed toward the kitchen. With Mafia Families, servers knew not to hang around, and we never ordered from the menu. We always ate the best, and the best was what the chef recommended.

The other waiter stood off the side with his arms folded, waiting. They knew not to bother us. If we wanted something, we would ask.

I took a slice of bread, dipped it into the olive oil, and took a bite as the rich flavor of olive oil and fresh, warm bread filled my mouth. I nodded my approval. "This is delicious."

"Wait until you taste the chicken." Fletcher chuckled, pleased by my reaction. "For the main course, I had the chef make Lasagna. I know it's your favorite."

"That was kind of you." I cut into the chicken, cooked in sundried tomatoes and basil. I took a bite, followed by the bread. They paired very well together. "Umm... this is delicious."

It was an unspoken rule between the Families that business was never discussed over dinner. Dinner was a sacred time reserved for family and friends alone.

After dinner, drinks and cigars were passed out, and business was discussed, but never during dinner. There would be plenty of time to discuss business later. But if I brought anything serious up to him now, Fletcher would take it as an extreme insult.

"So, how's Sheree?" I took another bite of chicken and bread, and it nearly melted in my mouth. Sheree was his beautiful wife. He had so many mistresses that I couldn't keep up, but when discussing family, one never brought up the mistresses.

He took a sip of his wine. "Good."

"And the kids?" I took a sip of wine, too.

"Good." He let out a deep breath as a faraway look came into his eyes. "Joel, my oldest, is talking about coming to work in the Family Business."

I froze. "How old is he? He's not old enough, is he?"

He shrugged. "He just turned twenty-one, so he's a man now and is free to choose." He took a bite of his chicken. "Sheree isn't happy, but what can you do?"

I took the last bite of my chicken and pushed the plate aside. "That was delicious. Thanks."

"Well, that's not all... trust me." He finished the last of his chicken just as the waiters brought out Antipasto Salads. We ate for a bit, and then he arched an eyebrow. "So, how's the hellcat?"

I raised my eyes, never wavering from his. "She's good, thanks." I didn't want to get into it now, but if he kept calling my future Mate a hellcat, we were going to have a problem. "She's a lady. I'd appreciate you addressing her as such."

He stared at me over his glass of wine, a knowing smile on his lips. Then he nodded once and took a sip of his wine. "The vinaigrette for the Antipasto is my mother's recipe, straight from Italy."

The conversation turned light as we ate the salad. Then the waiters brought out the main course, plates filled high with Lasagna. They also brought another loaf of bread on a wooden cutting board, already sliced, and took away the empty plates.

After dinner, Fletcher set the empty wine bottle at the end of the table and motioned for the waiter. "Another, please."

"Actually, we're both going to need something stronger." I downed the rest of my wine glass and set it aside.

Fetcher stared at me for a long moment and nodded. "Bourbon or scotch?"

"Bourbon, neat."

Fletcher glanced over at the waiter. "Bring a bottle of my best and two glasses."

"Yes, Don Reed." He nodded once and hurried off to do our bidding.

Fletcher folded his hands on top of the table. "So, what was it you came to discuss?"

I stared into his eyes, waiting. This conversation was going to need something much stronger than wine, and I would wait for it.

Just then, the waiter came back with a bottle and two on-the-rocks glasses. He showed it to Fletcher, who nodded. Then the waiter filled the glasses halfway, set the bottle on the table, and left without a word.

I took a sip of my bourbon. "What are your plans for your sex trafficking business?"

He swirled the caramel liquid in his glass and took a sip. "Business as usual. Why?"

"I want you to shut it down."

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A/N: Thanks for reading! Move to come!