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Mafia's Indian Bride

HER "Excuse me, sir, I'm looking for my father." Sameera Krishnamurthy is a freshly graduated engineer who travels to America from India in search of her father. She is lazy. She is bubbly. In short, she is CRAZY. HIM "I will pluck her wings and trap her in a small jar where she knows nothing but me, where she sees no one but me, and then... and then I will enjoy breaking her." Vincent Vitale Salvatore is a mafia leader, in fact, he is Capo Dei Capi who handles the New York outfit. He is arrogant. He is ruthless. In short, he is THE DEVIL. THEM Why is Vitale, the boss of all mafia bosses, is interested in her? What does he want with her? Will Sameera be able to sense the trap she is walking into or will it be too late? Read this book to find out what happens when these two different worlds collide.

caia_clearwood · Urban
Not enough ratings
29 Chs

Chapter 6

Vitali snatched the mobile extended by Nick before entering the back seat of the car parked at the entrance of the warehouse for privacy and snapped, "It better be good!" 

His nostrils flared, impatience running over him. He is not someone to tap his foot in impatience. It will only display your emotions and Vitali Salvatore dons a blank mask even with his family.

Yet he wanted to do just that for the first time.  His blood run hot at the thought of walking away from extracting answers, getting names of the traitors who run amidst the Outfit donning the mask of loyal subjects. HIS Outfit.

"Mr. Salvatore?" The smug voice of the Superintendent's only grated his nerves.

And he left everything behind to hear the blabber of this idiot.

"Officer... do you know what I do to the ones who waste my time?" Vitali asked calmly, his tone even and smooth.

"Y-yes Mr. Salvatore. But the information I have is important. Very important"

"So you say. I have yet to hear one word of it," he sneered, his upper lip curling in irritation.

"I will disclose. Only... as you can see Mr. Salvatore, it's been some time since my hands are lubricated. I'm willing to trade this tidbit, you have to believe me. Only,-"

Vitali cut his words before he become cocky by saying, "you are asking me for 'what's in it for you?' Officer?"

"Umm... you must know Mr. Salvatore, with the current economy, a man has to make a living anyway one can."

He could clearly see the Superintendent taking out his handkerchief and dabbing on his forehead trying to dissect his current mood. But then Vitali is a closed book to all.

"Get to the point," Vitali narrowed his eyes not liking the fearless tone of the Superintendent. Even though the man is under his payroll, no one can be trusted fully. He can wag his tail to someone with heavier wallet if he thinks he is getting benefitted. The only thing stopping him or anybody else is the fear of 'Vitali'- Capo Dei Capi.

Vitali banked on that fear many times without lifting a fist. But that doesn't mean he won't lift his hands. Why bother making a mess when things can get easily?

However, now, hearing from the tone of the Superintendent it looks like he forgot his place, thinking he can get away with making a bargain with HIM.

"How much are you willing to pay for it?" His previous nervousness abandoned in the face of money, the Superintendent finally revealed his intention.

"Tell me officer," Vitali waited for a second deliberately and continued. "how much is your life worth?"

"Wh-Wh-what are you implying?"

"Imagine Officer, one fine night, when you were walking from that club you frequent to watch strippers and suddenly there were men jumping on you, beating you to pulp, punching you to death. Only, they won't stop at that. Exactly, at the moment you think that they are going to leave you at the side of the road bruised and bloody, one drags a knife into your stomach, gutting you with one stroke. What do you think will happen next Officer? What WILL happen to you in the next few seconds? Do you think you can make it?"

"Mr. Sal- Mr. Salvatore... this is... why you... I..." he tried to find the words and failed.

"If you are done with your blabbering, then get on with it. I don't have time to hear this"

"Joseph Milazzo," he breathed the name as if dying to share a secret juicy detail.

Vitali stiffened, his hand fisted over his thigh as he took a deep breath to gain on his slipping control.

That name.

It's been years since he last heard of it. Nevertheless, it's one name he is not going to forget. He refused to forget.

On the outside, Vitali remained the same aloof, calm monarch of the underworld. But in the inside, he felt like someone punched him in the gut.

"You have 10 seconds before you explain to me everything. And I mean everything before your office blows into pieces," Vitali bluffed putting the fear inside him.

"Blows? What do you mean?"

"10"

"You can't throw a bomb here!!!"

"9"

"But-"

"8"

"Wait!!!"

"7"

"Wait...I- you see..."

"6"

"Mr. Salvatore." He could hear the worry from the other side of the line but he don't care.

"5"

"A girl came to the office today. I mean just now," the Superintendent sputtered in haste to explain before the count down ends.

"4"

Vitali could hear the quickening of his breath through the line, could sense the panic, could imagine the sweat on his forehead, the ratcheting of his heartbeat which must be pounding to come out of his chest.

"Mr. Salvatore, please!!! There are many people here. You can't-" he wheezed, all worked up because he knows when Vitali Salvatore says something, he follows it with action.

"3"

"This girl, she wanted to file a missing person complaint."

"2"

"She said she is searching for her father-"

"1"

"Joseph Milazzo. She said she is looking for her father Joseph Milazzo"

"0. Congratulations Officer. You just saved your office from blowing to pieces," Vitali heard himself saying even though his mind his churning it's process. Joseph Milazzo has a daughter?

The huge, deep breath didn't lost on him as he calmly asked, "what is her name?"

"It's," a ruffling sound followed before he continued, "it's Sameera Kri-Krish-Umm... Sameera Krishna Moor-Ty. Yes, it's that."

"It doesn't sound like an American name."

"No Mr. Salvatore. She is an Indian."

"An Indian?" Vitali lifted his left eyebrow, deep in thought. When and where did he met an Indian to sire a daughter?

"I want all of her details. I'm sending Nick to the station." He cut the call, his mind still in turmoil at this latest news.

An Indian. Well, this should be interesting. But first, he need to weed out some bad seeds.

"Mr. Salvatore?" Nick's voice sounded cautioned as he halted his progress inside.

Vitali stopped walking but didn't turn around.

"Are you really going to give her to Tomasso?" His words were tentative as if he picked them with care. As he should be.

It seems, today is the day his subordinates decided to revolt against him. First, that Superintendent. Now, Nick. He wanted to pinch his nose in frustration.

"That's," Nick leaned forward as if he might miss a word. Vitali clenched his jaw and said, "none of your business! Question me again and see what happens."

He don't have to say any further. Nick scrambled back as if he leaned over a furnace. Truth be told, he has no scruples on what his men think of him but if it really comes down to sending that child to one of his clubs to break her, he wouldn't do it. He draws the line at women and children. But no one needs to know about that. Once it is known, it will be only used as a weakness against him. Then he have to demonstrate he don't care. Until then, threats will suffice.

He entered the warehouse, his steps brisk and sharp, his stride long as he want to be done with this untidy business but once he opened the door to the room where he kept the traitor and his sister, Vitali's steps faltered.

"Nick!!!" He snapped, without turning his head from the crime scene.

He can hear the sudden intake of air from behind him.

He felt like red, hot molten lava ran in his veins as his anger slowly build inside him. He scanned the room his eyes going over the corpses of both brother and sister who lay crumpled. It's very clean- cut.

Nick walked past him, checking for any pulse he might find on both of them. He lifted his head, met his eyes and shook.

Vitali knew before he checked that they are both dead. Whoever did this is in a hurry but not careless. He is also known to them or else there would have been sound. Someone they know. Someone he knows.

His eyes moved over the crumpled form of the girl first. A life, cut short. The cut across her throat is clean and neat, the blood leaking from it, not.

It looked as if the girl took the knife Vitali placed at the table after cutting Albert and went near his brother to free him before someone comes. Instead, once freed, her brother decided to use the same knife to cut her throat first, and then his in a swift death.

At least, it is what it looked like. But Vitali's calculated eye took note of Albert's broken left arm. It is impossible for Albert to take their lives as he is left-handed and the knife is in his right hand.

It means only one thing. Someone took out his life before he can reveal their names. Someone closer to him than he realised as only a handful of his men are patrolling this warehouse now.

Someone who is watching his every move. It is a good thing he doesn't trust anyone.

"What do we do Mr. Salvatore?"

"We hunt."