ALESSIO
Stepping out of my sleek black car, Dante, my underboss and younger brother, wasted no time expressing the concerns that had been circulating "Alessio, Il tavolo alto and il Circolo degli Anziani are growing more restless day by day. How can you lead them without a wife and an heir?"
Having led the downfall of mafia bosses across Italy, Chicago, New York, Russia, Serbia, and Mexico with the help of William Henderson, I found myself leading a global criminal alliance – Il tavolo alto, (the High Table). il Circolo degli Anziani,( the Circle of Elders), comprised seasoned bosses from every corner of the underworld. Reluctantly accepting the role, I had maintained a fragile peace, akin to a United Nations for mafias.
"Alessio, this is gravely serious," Dante asserted, his tone reflecting the weight of the matter at hand. As the leader of the circle of elders, my lack of a spouse and heir had not only caused inconvenience over the years but had led to a few attempts on my life. However, these threats never phased me. Pushing the door open, I was halted by Dante's firm grip. Turning, I faced my underboss, and consigliere Alessandro, standing in solidarity behind him.
"Dante's right, Alessio. Non hai moglie e non hai figli. Sei già l'anziano più giovane. Dobbiamo trovare rapidamente una soluzione," Alessandro concurred, highlighting the urgency of the situation. I, the middle child, had assumed leadership after my older brother Alessandro chose love over power, a decision that led to war and ultimately left me in charge. Despite my initial resentment, my perspective shifted when I met Akira.
"We'll discuss this later," I declared, signalling a delay to the impending confrontation. We retreated to separate conference rooms, a giant box presented as the customary precursor to the meeting. Knowing the protocol well, I began stowing away every firearm on my person, a total of six. As I stepped forward, the room was hushed when a clear voice interrupted, holding up a second box. With a sigh, I began disposing of my knives one by one.
"Oh mio signore," someone muttered behind me, a testament to the gravity of the situation. Trust was a rare commodity in this world, and I kept my guard up at all times, a survival instinct that had kept me alive.
Following the meeting, I found myself reluctantly attending my cousin's reception. Seated in a corner, I engaged in silent discussions with my uncles, skillfully avoiding the inevitable clutches of my aunts. As the night wound down, I retreated inside the house, seeking a moment of solitude.
In the dimly lit room, I settled into a chair, the pungent aroma of a fresh cigar enveloping the air. With a sigh, I lit the cigar, reclining as I exhaled a stream of smoke. Before I could delve into my thoughts, my nonna, the matriarch of the family, spoke up.
"Your favourite cousin just got married, and you look miserable, Alessio," she remarked, her voice carrying a mix of amusement and concern. Before I could retort, the room's tranquillity was shattered as my cousin Tony and a Lombardi found themselves in a heated dispute.
Nonna, with a sinister smile, observed the unfolding chaos. "I haven't witnessed a good fight in days," she mused, lighting her own cigar with practised nonchalance. I shot her a quizzical look, and she merely shrugged.
The room fell into an immediate hush as the unmistakable echo of a gunshot reverberated through the air. Nobody flinched; nobody cared to acknowledge the chaos of a fallen Lombardi, gunshot wound on his shoulder, ironically my sister-in-law's cousin.
"Matteo, lo porti a casa, per favore," Bianca instructed her brother, detaching herself from Alessandro's embrace to kneel at her cousin's side, applying pressure to the wound. The conversations and music continued immediately after that.
"This looks disgusting; did your mother cook it?" Nonna knit her brows, inspecting the plate as if it held the secrets of the universe. The perpetual feud between my mother and Nonna had reached legendary proportions, they tried to poison each other multiple times with food.
"This is Isabella's Minestrone Soup " Nonna declared with a distinct air of authority as she slid the plate to me. My taste test confirmed it for her – my mother had cooked it. A mischievous smile tugged at my lips as I savoured Nonna's reaction of disgust.
"I'm right. I'd recognise that woman's cooking anywhere," Nonna proclaimed, sitting back and crossing her arms, a look of defiance etched on her face. I wisely stayed out of their feuds. Everyone knew deep down that despite the constant bickering, there was a strange, unspoken love between them.
It manifested in peculiar ways; when my mother tripped once, the first person rushing to her side was Nonna. She stayed by her side the whole evening, a silent testament to the bond that went beyond the kitchen skirmishes. Likewise, when Nonna found herself in the hospital, my mother practically set up camp there for a month. Yet, anyone daring to bring up their mutual affection usually ended up dead.
I finished the soup and checked on my mother enduring her rants about the family drama involving my cousin and Nonna. As if her words were just background noise, she slipped in one more request.
"One more thing, figlio, be a dear and give Gianna a ride home," she requested, but we both understood it as more of an order. I nodded and left the house. My family had persistently attempted to arrange a marriage between Gianna and me, but the problem was, I was in love with someone else and Gianna was in love with a woman – a secret I intended to carry with me to the grave.
"So, what's going on with you and quella bella donna? Did you win her back?" Gianna asked, her eyes fixed on the rearview mirror as she adjusted her appearance. The word "scandalous" had often followed Gianna with her provocative clothing, long red nails, and her signature red lipstick. She lived for gossip and wasted no time trying to find it.
"È complicato," I replied, my attempt to sound nonchalant falling short. The memory of Akira with another man sparked a headache and a tighter grip on the wheel.
"She's seeing someone, isn't " Gianna deduced, a sly smile playing on her lips as she stared at me in surprise. "And you haven't killed whoever he is yet? My, my, Alessio, what's happening to you?" Her tone held a teasing edge, A few years ago I wouldn't have hesitated to end Daniel's life but times had changed.
"I don't want to talk about it, Gianna," I ordered, and she raised her hand in defeat, returning to her own reflection. As I dropped her off at her girlfriend's apartment, Gianna exited the car, giving me a parting look. "Remember, if you really want something, you'll stop at nothing to get it," she teased and blew me a kiss.
Driving in silence, lost in thoughts of Akira, I found myself at the airport and hopped on a flight back to London. Upon landing, I decided to drive. Any idle moment led to thoughts of Akira. Before I realized my destination, I was parked outside her home. It had become a habit of sorts. Sitting in silence for an hour, I eventually drove to the H.A. apartments.
Stepping into the elevator, I unfortunately locked eyes with, a 5'9" redhead with a smart-mouthed -Ava Carter. I attempted to close the door, but her high-heeled foot had different plans, halting the doors.
"Alessio Hernandez, haven't seen you since... never mind, I don't remember the last time I saw you," she declared, her sadistic smile in full display as her eyes travelled up and down.
"Miss Carter," I said politely, praying she wouldn't say another word. Fortunately, she pulled out her phone, typing away.
"So, how have you been since the breakup?" she pried, and I replied with a terse "Fine," silently hoping she wouldn't push it. Luck was on my side, as she nodded and stayed silent until we reached her floor.
Stepping out, Ava turned to face me, her hand once again preventing the doors from closing. "For what it's worth, I like you way more than Daniel, even though you kill people. Peace and love, Alessio," she quipped, letting me go with a sardonic smile.
***
"I'd find a way to wreck the relationship," William said with a nonchalant expression, causing me to shift my gaze from the go-board to him.
"Henderson's right. Every man has a weakness. Find Daniel's and use it to destroy their relationship," Alex added, sitting back as if he had just dropped a profound nugget of wisdom.
Noah, still recovering from yesterday's hangover, sprawled on the couch with legs spread, arms crossed, and head resting back, eyes closed – out like a light.
"And when the relationship is on its last legs, come in with the final swing," Christian finished, playing with one of the cats. I didn't respond, but I didn't rule out the idea either. In the world of business and, apparently, relationships, desperate times call for desperate measures.
We switched the conversation back to business, concluding our discussions. William placed eight folders on the table, handing each of us two and leaning against his desk. He revealed that he was entrusting each of us with running two of his companies. The confusion was written on all our faces.
"Why on earth would I do this?" Alex voiced the question that lingered in all our minds.
"Because, as you all know, my wife just gave birth to my daughter and nearly died doing it," William revealed, his facade dropping for a moment before quickly shifting back. "I don't intend to work until my daughter is at least nine months old, so I'm asking you to step in for me."
"Please," he added. The word hung in the air, freezing us all in place. Even Noah stirred awake, looking at William like he had just witnessed a unicorn tap dancing. Eleven years of knowing William, and none of us had ever heard him utter such a word.
"Marie isn't even one month and she's already performing miracles." Noah murmurs and he sits up still in shock.
It took a few minutes for us to get over the shock of the word and return to reality. "If we're going to do this, we might as well do it right," Alex said, and we spent another hour sorting out responsibilities from most hectic to least.
But then, the inevitable argument broke out about which one required the most public interaction. Alex, Christian, and I argued about who would handle the most hectic, giving Noah the least hectic but one that required the most public appearances and speaking.
The door opening, and William's hard expression shifting to a loving one, signalled the entrance of one person – his wife. "Sorry to interrupt, but you've been in here too long. I thought I'd bring some coffee in. It's getting late," she said sweetly, holding a tray of coffee.
"Thank you, darling. You didn't have to," William said, taking the tray from her and placing it on the coffee table. We all took a cup of coffee with a smile and engaged in a brief moment of conversation with Allyssa before she laced a kiss on William's cheek and left.
I massaged my jaw, half-expecting it to be frozen with the smile I was putting on for Allyssa – a necessary sacrifice for the sake of maintaining peace with William.
This coffee sucks
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