CHAPTER 9

Alessandro's POV

My father, seeing that I was not going to back out of our staring competition, placed his fork and knife in his plate, took a wet wipe, and wiped his hands.

“Meet me in my office right away,” he ordered, throwing the wet wipe on the plate before standing up and leaving the room.

I watched him walk out, and I remained sitting. I might as well have had a well-prepaid breakfast if I was going to face my father. And, oh, also talk to my father’s wife, who was now looking up and at me with a frown on her face.

“Amelia,” I softly said.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice gruff.

“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” I asked, ignoring her question.

She looked around, and I wondered what it was for. Her gaze returned to me, worry written on her face.

“Please stop that. You are going to get me in trouble,” she said, and I realized that my question was innocent but not in my father’s house. It had the power to get her into trouble, and she had been checking if anybody was near enough to have heard me.

Realizing that, I nodded and picked up two pieces of toast before following my father to his office. I did not want her to get into trouble because of me. I could hold down my own, but she could not.

When I walked into my father’s office, he sat in his oversized chair behind the mahogany desk, leaning back and glaring at me.

“Sit,” he ordered, and I did.

“The initiation night is two months away,” he opened to my surprise.

I had thought that he was going to reprimand me for my behavior, but he must have thought better of it. It was a good thought.

“I know,” I simply answered before taking a bite of my toast.

“And what have you done to prove yourself worth of the familigia?” he asked, his voice mocking, and I remained silent.

Not that I had not done anything that proved my worth to the famiglia. The reason why I had come to see him the previous night was because I had an Intel for him.

“I told you, it is about time you take part in the famiglia business, but all you do is stay locked up in that penthouse of yours doing nothing!” He said, his voice rising.

He only knew that I stayed in a penthouse because I had told him so. But he did not know where it was; otherwise, he would have stormed my place and forced me to submit to this conversation. 

“Men your age are already made men out there, making a name for themselves, proving their loyalty to the familigia. You, on the other hand, are working on running the Conti name in the mud.” 

“You need not to worry about your name, father,” I told him because that is all that mattered to him.

Himself and his name.

If he had a son aside from me, and that son was willing to do his and the familigia's bidding and carry on with his legacy, he would have gladly killed me himself if I was not loyal to the familigia. And being born into the familigia and not wanting to be part of it was considered betrayal.

“I am not worried. I am f*ck*ng disappointed in you!” he threw his favorite word after worthless and useless. Disappointment.

Being in my father's company was suffocating and I was done with him and wanted the conversation over.

“Fabio Rositto,” I uttered and the name got his full attention Leaning over his table, his eyes trained on me, he asked, “What about Fabio Rositto?” his eyes blazing with curiosity.

Good. I had intrigued him, just like I knew I would. Rositto was once part of the familigia, and high up the ranks. He was a greedy jerk and that had led him to be foolish enough to betray the familigia and be caught. He had to go into hiding. Now he was buying protection from our rivals. He was selling inside information in exchange of his protection. The familigia had been looking for him for almost half a year and every lead they had found was a dead end. But not for me. It had taken me a week to track him down to a village called Samara Beach in Costa Rica.

“I do know where he is,” I said, leaning back on my chair and started swaying on it.

“Where is he?” 

“Costa Rica,”

“F*ck. We should have guessed that is where he would have gone,” my father cursed as he hit the table with his fist.

The familigia had little to no connections in Costa Rica, and that is probably why he had gone there.

“In two day he is going to meet with Vlad there.”

“And how do you know all this?” he asked, narrowing his eyes at me, looking very skeptical.

He had every reason to be. Not everyone could know the movement of one of the highly ranking Russian vors. Vlad was an underboss for The Odessa, a Russian crime organization which was a rival of the Bandoni Famiglia

I pulled out my phone and opened the folder with every detail of Rositto. There were several pictures of him leaving the house he was living in, usually at night. And then, finally, I had the recording of his call with Vlad. Apparently, Rositto had a thumb drive he wanted to sell to Vlad in exchange for a new hiding place accompanied with a million buck

“Holy sh*t!” my father cursed after a while of going through the file. 

“How did you get all this?” he asked, excitement dripping in his voice.

“I got skills, and I am putting them to use.”

“This is golden. With this, we get Rossito and the Russians. And it will be all because of you, ” he marveled, probably having visions of the praises the Conti name was going to get.

“Let me call The Capo and request a meeting,” he said, as he slid my phone on the table, giving it back to me.

He took out his own and dialed the Capo's number. It rang for a while before it was picked.

“Conti,” the Capo’s voice boomed throughout the room, and I realized he was on speaker. “You better be calling me with good news. Have you recovered the shipment?” 

“Capo, no, not as of yet, but I got better news,” my father answered.

“That ship is worth millions, Conti! What could be better news?”

“I got my son here,” he said and paused.

“So? How is that my business?” 

“Alessandro was able to track down Fabio Rositto,” he said, his voice dripping pride.

He was not proud of me. He was definitely proud of himself for having a son who was able to track down the man who had been on their most wanted list.

“And how would he do that, single handedly and within a short time? I thought it's been a few weeks since he came back.” 

“He is a Conti, Capo. Anything is possible with a Conti.” 

There it was, the family name he was so proud of.

“And not only that. But he also has information on Vlad,” he added.

“Your son has not been active in the familigia. How would I know he is mole and is leading us to another dead end, or worse, a trap?”

“You can meet him, and he can prove himself.”

“Meet me at the downtown warehouse at seven tonight.” 

“Sure, Capo,” my father responded before the line went dead.

“It looks like you are going to meet the Capo tonight. It took most people years to be worth of the Capo's time. But it took you a couple of minutes.”

“Not so worthless, am I?” I jabbed

“No. Not if this information actually helps us get Risotto and Vlad,” he answered, not a little bit moved. 

“I will drive us there. Make sure you are here by five. We can't be late for this meeting,” he said, getting up from bus chair and buttoning up his suit blazer. 

He walked out, leaving me sitting in his office.

I sat there for a while before I stood up to leave too. As I approached the lobby, I heard my father's voice and Amelia's. 

"So you are not going to let me see, Ben?" Amelia asked, her voice raspy.

"Not for the next three months," my father answered, his voice cold as ever.

"Salvatore, please! It was just a small mistake. I will do better next time. Just let me see Ben, please," she said.

"A small mistake, you say? You cost me an alliance I have been trying to forge for years, Amelia! You call that small?" he said.

"I will rectify my mistake. Just let me see Ben," she pleaded again.

"Three months of good behavior and you will get to see little Ben," my father said, his words final, and he left.

As I watched their interaction, my suspicion and curiosity grew. She definitely had not married my father out of choice.

As I watched their interaction, it became clear to me that Amelia had been forced into this marriage. My father had something on her, and I needed to find out what it was.

I watched her as she walked back in, still limping and sniffing. She struggled to take the stairs, probably still in pain. I wanted to walk to her, scoop her up, get her to her room, and let her cry out her pain. But I knew it would only get her in trouble.