73

73
Alaric’s POV
The phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. I stared at it for a moment, letting the screen vibrate against the polished wood of my desk. It was barely nine in the morning, and the calls had already started coming in. Business, disputes, and the usual mess that came with running a criminal empire. I took a long sip of my coffee, savoring the bitter taste as I mentally prepared for the onslaught.
I finally picked up the call, putting it on speaker as I sifted through the stack of papers in front of me. “Talk.”
“It’s Dante,” came the gruff voice on the other end. “We’ve got a situation at the docks. One of the shipments was flagged by customs. They’re asking questions.”
“Didn’t we grease enough palms for this not to be an issue?” I leaned back in my chair, pinching the bridge of my nose. The headache that had been brewing since last night was starting to make itself known.
“We did,” Dante replied, sounding just as frustrated as I felt. “But there’s a new officer on duty-some fresh face who thinks he can play hero. He’s digging around where he shouldn’t.”
I clenched my jaw. There was always someone like this-a new player who didn’t understand the rules of the game. “Handle it. And make sure it’s done cleanly. I don’t want any loose ends.”
“Understood, boss.” The line clicked off.
I dropped the phone back onto the desk, exhaling slowly. It was always something. I’d barely had a moment of peace since last night, and the memory of waking up beside Emilia, only to push her away with that cold, dismissive line, was still fresh in my mind. No strings attached. It doesn’t change anything. I’d seen the look in her eyes when I said it, the brief look of hurt she tried to hide. It bothered me more than I wanted to admit.
But I couldn’t think about that right now. I couldn’t afford to.
I turned my attention back to the papers in front of me. A ledger, receipts, lists of contacts-all the mundane but necessary details of keeping the business running. The numbers had to match, the shipments had to move, and the money had to flow. I wasn’t just a mafia boss; I was an accountant, a strategist, a problem-solver. And if I didn’t do my job, everything would fall apart.
“Alaric,” Allesio’s voice broke through my concentration as he walked into the room without knocking. I didn’t bother reprimanding him; he was one of the few people who could get away with that.
“What is it?” I asked, barely glancing up.
“I’ve got word from the Guiseppe’s Syndicate. They’re looking to renegotiate terms.”
I looked up sharply at that. “Renegotiate? We already gave them more than their fair share in the last deal.”
Allesio nodded, his expression grim. “They’re testing boundaries, seeing how far they can push now that we’ve dealt with the traitor. They think we might be weaker.”
“They think wrong.” I stood up, feeling the familiar surge of anger rise in my chest. “Set up a meeting with their envoy. I want it done today.”
He nodded, but there was a hesitation in his eyes. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? You’ve got a lot on your plate right now, and-”
“I’m sure,” I cut him off. “The last thing I need is these idiots thinking they can walk all over me because of one incident. We end this now.”
Allesio didn’t argue, just gave a curt nod before turning to leave. He paused at the door, glancing back at me. “For what it’s worth, Alaric, you’re handling this better than anyone else would.”
I gave him a look, not sure whether he was serious or trying to placate me. “Is that your attempt at a compliment?”
“Maybe,” he said with a smirk, before heading out.
I sat back down, tapping my fingers against the desk. It wasn’t the first time I’d had to deal with a power play like this, and it wouldn’t be the last. But everything felt more volatile lately. I’d cleaned house, gotten rid of the traitors, and yet there was still a sense of unease, like the ground beneath my feet wasn’t as solid as it should be.
My phone buzzed again, this time with a message from one of our informants. I opened it, scanning the text quickly.
“New intel suggests the Bratva is making moves on our territory. They’ve been seen near the docks and are sniffing around our operations.”
I cursed under my breath. The Russians were the last thing I needed right now. They’d been quiet for months, and I’d assumed they were keeping to their own business. Clearly, I’d assumed wrong.
I fired off a quick response, instructing the informant to keep eyes on them and report back if they made any more overt moves. The last thing I needed was a turf war, but if that’s what they wanted, I’d give it to them.
I got up from the desk and walked over to the window, staring out at the garden. The sun was shining, casting a golden light over the grounds. It looked peaceful, idyllic even. But it was all a facade. Beneath the surface, it was a world of shadows and blood, of deals made in the dark and promises sealed with violence.
A knock on the door brought me back to the present. “Come in,” I called out.
Allesio stepped back inside, looking slightly more relaxed. “The meeting with Guiseppe’s envoy is set for this afternoon. They agreed to your terms.”
“Good.” I turned away from the window, feeling a flicker of satisfaction. “And the Bratva?”
“They’re testing us, seeing if we’ll react. I’ve already doubled security at the docks. We’ll be ready if they make a move.”
“Make sure we are,” I said, my voice colder than I intended. “I’m not in the mood to play games.”
He nodded, lingering for a moment as if he wanted to say something else. “You know, Alaric, you don’t have to do everything yourself. You’ve got people you can rely on.”
I gave him a hard look. “And who do you think I can rely on, Allesio? We just weeded out a traitor from our inner circle. Trust isn’t something I can afford right now.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Fair point. But don’t burn yourself out. We’ve been through worse, and we’ve always come out on top.”
I didn’t respond, just gave a curt nod. He took that as his cue to leave, closing the door quietly behind him.
I sank back into my chair, feeling my exhaustation press on to me. Allesio was right, in his own way. I was taking on too much, trying to control every little detail, because I couldn’t bear the thought of something slipping through the cracks. It was exhausting, but it was the only way I knew how to operate.
My phone buzzed one last time, and I glanced at the screen. It was a message from Emilia, asking if I wanted her to pick up something for lunch. I stared at the text for a long moment, my thumb hovering over the screen.
“No strings attached”, I’d told her. And yet, here she was, still trying, still there. A part of me wanted to ignore it, to keep that distance I’d tried to impose. But another part of me, the part I kept buried deep, wanted to say yes. Wanted to let her in, just a little.
I typed out a quick reply. “Yeah, that’d be good. Thanks.”
It wasn’t much, but it was something. And for now, it was all I could give.