Repaying the Mafia’s Dept

Dominic

“How bad is it?” Massimo asks.

I’m almost afraid to tell him. There’s nothing I’m going to say today that won’t make them worry for their families’ lives.

“You guys should probably sit,” I answer.

Massimo moves over to his desk to sit on the edge while Tristan and I pull up the nearby chairs.

“You got my last note, right?” I ask Massimo. That’s probably the best place to start.

Massimo goes over to the safe and returns with two pieces of paper. One is a copy of a page from a contract I sent him eight months ago. The other is the anonymous letter I found years ago that started this journey. Both are key documents and pieces of the puzzle we’ll need to create the big picture. Ironic that both documents were found by me.

The contract is what I’m referring to. Massimo hands it to me. I have the original copy at home, but that is a copy of a copy I stumbled over by accident.

It seems to be the last page of the contract. Except, instead of names at the bottom section, there are the initials:

M. V, R. B, L. V, T. N, K. G, B. F, F. S

Beside each initial are the signatures of the people who signed this agreement to The King.

“I’m sure you know who the first three initials belong to,” I say quirking a brow.

“Mortimer Viggo, Riccardo Balesteri, and Levka Volkov,” Tristan answers.

“Yes.”

Mortimer Viggo was the first person to tell us about the King. That was just before Tristan killed him. Mortimer was the leader of a notorious group of Bratva Assassins called the Circle of Shadows. Riccardo aligned with them first then Levka, another Syndicate member.

The other names, including the King, are part of the bigger picture. When I left, we knew there were five more people who teamed up with Mortimer in the plot, but we didn’t have a clue on how to find out who they were.

Finding the contract opened the door, and I’m about to open another.

“I found out who K. G and B. F are,” I declare, and Massimo and Tristan’s eyes widen.

“Who are they?” Massimo asks.

“K. G is Karl Grunberg, and B. F is Bradford Ferguson. Both are high profile international black-market dealers. Both were on the world’s most-wanted list until they died, five years ago.” This is where things are about to get extremely interesting.

Massimo shakes his head. “Before they died? Dominic five years ago would take them outside the time frame. Wouldn’t it?”

“They faked their deaths,” I smirk and pull my smart pen from my pocket. One press of the button on the side syncs it with the computer, and seconds later the file I want appears on the overhead projector’s screen. I open it and bring up two pictures of our new friends.

The first is a notice from the C. I. A website, with mugshots of Karl and Bradford confirming their deaths in a shootout. The article was dated five years ago and has details of their bodies being found in Sweden.

I open another file I saved from what I picked up days ago. When Tristan and Massimo see the images of the two men walking in the alleyway, they look at me in complete surprise.

“That’s them,” Tristan states.

“Yes. I haven’t found out why they faked their deaths, but I guess for our purposes it’s not really important. What’s important is they’re alive and they’re in L. A.”

“L. A? As in here?” Massimo’s brows snap together.

“L. A. as in here, Boss.”

I bite down hard on my back teeth because I’m just getting started. There’s more they’re not going to like. Seeing these men and getting their details was just one thing. If these images were all I’d found, I would have just sent Massimo another note so he could look into it. Finding these images, however, led me further down the rabbit hole where I found enough to alarm me.Content © provided by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Dominic, how do you know these guys are the ones we’re after?” Tristan asks. “How did you find any of this?”

I draw in a breath. “I found a secret file on Alfonse’s computer.”

Alfonse was my father’s trusted advisor. It was revealed before I left that he was a spy working with Mortimer Viggo. He fed our enemies all the information they wanted. There were events that happened in the past that didn’t make sense to me until we found out he was the guy who was playing sides and getting shit done in the background. Saying his name is enough of an answer to Tristan’s questions.

“Before I left, I downloaded his files,” I add. “I figured there had to be more to him when we found out he was a spy. Like he might have more answers to what was going on. It turned out he did, but I had to dig deep. The file I found was encrypted with some wacked up code with serious firewalls.” Put something like that in front of a guy like me and I’m as comfortable as reading a second native language.

“God, that fucker…” Tristan sighs and runs a hand over his beard. “I can’t believe that man screwed with us the way he did.”

“I know.” Learning he was a traitor was another hit because he was like a second father to us. “Anyway, the file was fucking huge with all manners of documents going back decades that had been scanned on to the system. It was in that file I found the contract. Then I started poking around for names. That’s when I found Karl and Bradford. It seems Alfonse had more direct dealings with them and he worked for a lot of other people. It threw me for a loop though when I found them listed as dead. To cover all bases, I had alerts set to notify me if anything else came up. It was my facial recognition bots that picked them up.”

“Jesus Dom, what the fuck?” Massimo winces.

“Yeah. And… there’s more.”

“More?” He grits his teeth, and his eyes darken with rage.

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

I click on the file with the image that sent me flying back to L. A. and both my brothers straighten to attention when the image spreads across the widescreen showing Karl and Bradford in the same alleyway talking to a man Massimo and Tristan will both recognize from the past. It’s been a while, but they know his face.

“Jesus Christ,” Massimo rasps.

Tristan bites the inside of his lip and glances from me to the man on the screen.

We only know him as Kazimir. No surname. He’s a senior member of the Circle of Shadows. We ran into him after Alyssa, Tristan’s first wife, was murdered. Like vermin, these people keep resurfacing from the shadows of hell. Like vermin when you see one, one as powerful as Kazimir, you know there’s more.

Two years ago, when Tristan took down Mortimer and several high-level members of the Circle of Shadows, we weakened the unit, but it went without saying that those left behind would reform. The Circle of Shadows was worldwide, and I never made the mistake of thinking Mortimer kept his best men in one place.

“Fucking Kazimir,” Tristan breathes, riveting his gaze to the image.

“That was two days ago. Word on the underground has it that Kazimir is the new leader of the Circle of Shadows. I flew home straight away when I heard that.”

Massimo returns his gaze to me. “They’ve reformed.”

“And it looks like the plan is back in motion,” Tristan adds.

“Yes, which means eliminating the Syndicate. A. k. a us,” I fill in.

“Fuck,” Massimo hisses and rises to his feet. He walks over to the computer screen and glares at the image of the three men. “Things have been quiet for two years. Why now?”

“That was my next question,” Tristan says. “Why the hell now? Why did they wait for so long? Why didn’t they strike before? Mortimer told me the bigger pieces on the chessboard hadn’t started playing yet. We know Kazimir and he is anything but ordinary. And these other guys are a whole other species of criminal we haven’t dealt with before.”

“And those guys don’t just work for the run of the mill,” I point out. “It begs the question of who the king really is, and the other guys I haven’t been able to find. T. N and F. S.” I bite the inside of my lip and think about it. “Something’s changed somewhere along the line.”

I hate vague. It’s like being spoon-fed. Or in our case being tortured slowly, receiving drips and drabs of information on how we might die.

Massimo turns back to me. “Nothing much has changed here.”

“Is the Syndicate still the same?” I ask.

“Yes.”

Before I left the newly formed Syndicate consisted of the three of us, Aiden Romanov who like us was a descendent of the old syndicate, Claudius Morientz, and Vincent Giordano from Chicago. Apart from us, the others had a counterpart like the old setup.

“Many have approached me, and I’ve put them on the back burner or turned them away. The only person I would have taken on straight-up was Alejandro Ramirez, but he’s in two minds about joining. I’ve been focusing on establishing what we already have. Now that’s settled, I have plans for expansion.”

That sounds like business as usual, with nothing out of the ordinary. “What about new contracts? What caused the original group of enemies to form in this agreement was Pa’s contracts with the Russian and Italian governments. Do you have anything on that sort of scale happening?”

Massimo shakes his head. “No, I don’t have anything above board. So maybe they’re just gathering to take us out like last time. They didn’t want me expanding the Syndicate. We have powerful members just with the alliance we have now. Aiden’s Bratva has control of diamond mining and gun trafficking, The Giordano’s have the shipping company and Claudius practically owns Chicago and the coast of Sicily.”

“Maybe there’s something going on that we can’t really see. Something they’ve seen that’s drawn them out. Which means you’re being watched.”

Massimo releases a ragged sigh, and worry fills his eyes. Not for himself, but for his wife and child. Tristan looks the same.

“We’ll have to increase security all around and start looking into this straightaway.”

“Yeah, I agree.”

“There’s a Syndicate meeting in a few weeks, but I’ll give the others a heads up to keep watch. We’ll discuss it properly when we meet up.”

“That will be good.”

Of the group, Aiden will probably feel the same way we do. It’s going to be weird when I next see him, but truthfully it was he who saved me. He gave me that connection in Tibet. Aiden knew well before anyone else that I was on drugs. He knew without any of the obvious signs others noticed. He was also the last person I saw before I took off.

I glance at the letter Massimo rested on the table. The anonymous letter that set us on this path. I have a copy of it, but I just want to read it again. From time to time, I read it and it holds different emotions and meanings for me. “Can I see that?” I ask, pointing at the letter.

He picks it up and hands it to me.

A labored sigh escapes my lips as I scan over the words. It says:

Dear Massimo,

You do not know me. But I know you, and I feel compelled to contact you in light of the information I’ve recently discovered.

There was so much more to what happened seven months ago when the Syndicate was obliterated.

There were more people involved than who you think. So many more who were responsible for the deaths of our loved ones. So many got their hands dirty to end our fathers.

Riccardo Balesteri was just a pawn in a bigger game to eradicate enemies. I urge you not to stand alone but to reform the Syndicate and lead. Be a leader.

It is only with the strongest alliances that you will be able to hunt your enemies, or war will come.

Good luck.

A friend

I hand it back to Massimo and he sets it back down on the table.

“All these long years and I still don’t have a clue who sent that letter,” I state, furrowing my brows.

“Nor us.”

“Every time I read it, I wonder why this asshole couldn’t have just come to us.” I shake my head with dismay. “He would have known more than this. Or maybe it’s a woman. I don’t fucking know.”

Even though I left home to clean up and sort myself out, I never stopped the mission for retribution. Losing my father affected me more than anyone could ever know, and so much more than I could ever express. Learning more people were responsible for his death, in whatever capacity they were involved, signed the ink on their death certificate. I won’t stop until I get every last one of them, whether I have the backup of my brothers or not.

“At least we have this information,” Massimo says. “Thanks to you. Thanks for coming back with it.”

I’m a little thrown by the gratitude. I wasn’t expecting it. Not because I think they’re ungrateful. It’s more the case that it was a given I’d do this no matter what.

“You’re welcome. I wouldn’t leave you guys to deal with this. I knew I had to come back and help.”

“We still appreciate your help.”

The phone rings on Massimo’s desk, and he walks over to answer it. He pauses when he looks at the screen, and a cautious glance at me makes me tense my shoulders. When he presses the button to receive the call and the angel starts talking, I understand the look of caution.

“Morning, Candace. What’s up?” Massimo asks, but he keeps an observant eye trained on me.

“Hey Boss,” Candace replies, and the sound of her voice instantly fills me with life. I haven’t heard it in so long, too long. “Looks like I’ll be going for coffee with Jacques, do you boys want anything?”

“No, we’re good.”

“Okay, I’ll get you some cookies. You know you want them,” she chuckles.

“Only if they were made by you.”

“Starbucks comes a close second. See you in a little while.”

“Alright.”

The phone goes dead, and Massimo looks back at me.

“I take it you haven’t seen her yet,” he says.

“No.” Last night doesn’t count. I wouldn’t tell them about that, anyway. “How is she?”

“Getting better, finally,” he answers, and it sounds like a warning to not ruin whatever she has going. I don’t plan to do anything of the sort.

“That’s good to hear.”

“When are you going to see her?” Tristan asks.

“Next. Maybe when she gets back from coffee with Jacques. Who is he?” I direct the question at Massimo.

Candace is not a let’s-go-to-coffee kind of girl. I’m not the kind of bastard to think a woman like her would still be hung up on me, especially when I told her not to wait. But that doesn’t mean I’m the kind of bastard who doesn’t get jealous.

Massimo quirks a brow. “Jacques Belmont is a client. But I have something more in mind for him.”

“Really?” I don’t like the sound of this guy, and all I’ve been given is his name. That and knowing he’s going to get coffee with Candace.

“We’ll talk about it more.”

“Okay,” I answer, wary.

“We’ll focus on that today.” He points to the computer screen holding the deadly faces of our enemies.

I nod, agreeing.

The importance of what’s going on hasn’t left my mind, but neither has Candace.

I guess I’ll see her later and find out where I stand.