CHAPTER FIVE

It has been two days of bad news for Lorenzo. One that caused him to convene another abrupt meeting. In the last years, no one has troubled him as much as recently.

"I got hit too," Marco told the members of the table. Another emergency meeting was called that night.

Less than twenty-four hours, another member of the group was suffering the same fate as Lorenzo.

"My guys were hit on the street. Only the drugs were stolen. Not even the gold my guys were wearing, or their phones were touched," he said.

Lorenzo was beyond confused at this point. He clenched his fists in anger. Who was that fearless person?

"Again, no one gets the products until we get to the bottom of this," he said to them. "I have to take care of this and teach those involved a lesson."

Angelo chipped in, "one is certain, though. They know us and are only going after this clan. Until then, everyone is a suspect."

"Each man to his territory. Guard yourself and your men. Find out what's happening in your hood yourself," Paolo, suggested.

"Well, if we're talking about suspects, we could start with Bruno here. After all, betrayal means anything to him," he added.

Bruno got angry. "Don't bring that crap here, Paolo. This is no time to joke around. Why would I go against Lorenzo? I'm smarter than you," Bruno defended himself.

There was bad blood between Bruno and Paolo. Before Lorenzo brought the table together, they had been serious enemies fighting against each other.

Once, Bruno hit a lot of Paolo's boys without provocation. The incident still upset Paolo to date. He lost his best men, and Bruno was unapologetic about it. They remained enemies. Since then, they never agreed on anything despite being together at the table.

"Lorenzo, what's your decision? What should we do?" Marco asked.

"I agree with Paolo and Angelo. Let's stick to our territories. But be warned, if I find out that someone from this table is responsible, things will get bad real quick. For now, we dissolve the meeting."

Lorenzo took his leave without looking back. Angry was an understatement. He wanted to wash his hands with the blood of his enemies. As he had another meeting to attend, he left for his second destination.

Heading to the Splash club, Lorenzo couldn't take his mind off the issue. "I need to find out who's behind this as quickly as I can before I begin to lose my respect on the street," he thought to himself.

There was also the issue of the envelope. He had told Matteo about it and they both had one suspect. The only person capable of doing that was Armando Roberto, and he was in prison.

Armando Roberto was a very dangerous man. He was Lorenzo's uncle. He strongly opposed Lorenzo becoming the new Mafia lord and CEO of the empire. He felt he deserved the position instead, so he made plans to kill Lorenzo, but Lorenzo was smarter.

On a normal day, Lorenzo would have had Armando's head on a stalk as an example to all those who would think of going against him. But, respecting his father's wish not to shed the blood of a family member, he resorted to locking Armando away.

Lorenzo wasn't satisfied with Armando's imprisonment. Having him dead would give him peace of mind.

Lorenzo made a quick call to the prison. "Hello, I'd like to confirm if Armando Roberto is still in solitary confinement."

"Who's asking?" a male asked with a bored tone.

Heaving a sigh, "Lorenzo Lizzo." He hated when one asked who he was. He preferred it if his voice was recognized.

"A moment please, I need to confirm it," the warder quickly responded.

The name cleared paths. It was one that you hardly spoke to. So, having Lorenzo himself call was an honor.

"Yes, he's still in solitary confinement, Mr. Lizzo."

As long as he couldn't make contact at all with the outside world, Lorenzo was safe. If it wasn't Armando, who then was behind it?

He knew he had numerous enemies, but he was unable to think of anyone bold enough to attack him that way.

"Would that be all, sir?"

"Yes," Lorenzo answered, hanging up.

He kept wondering, straining his brain to narrow his broad list of rivals, and every one of them came off as suspect. But if there was one thing he'd achieved, it was a feared name in the Mafia world.

Slow and steady, his car came to a halt. He gracefully came out after his guard had opened his side of the door.

With smooth strides, Lorenzo headed for the VIP session of the club. A secluded place he stayed to handle businesses.

By the time he got there, there was a tall, dark, and handsome man, who looked to be in his early thirties, dressed in a gray suit, and didn't look a bit pleased already sitting. He was sipping a flute of champagne.

"Sorry, I kept you waiting, Mr. George," Lorenzo apologized. He needed to close the deal as soon as he could.

"I'll let this slide. But, I don't appreciate being kept waiting," Mr. George admonished.

"Straight to business," he said as Lorenzo took his seat.

"Of course."

The two men didn't bother for a handshake, as most of Lorenzo's associates knew his no-physical-contact policy.

"Precisely when will the Casino be opened?" He was the largest investor in the casino establishment Lorenzo was about to make.

He has been his longtime partner and each time, they always had a smooth transaction.

"Three months from now," Lorenzo replied. In three months and the largest casino, Las Vegas has ever witnessed, will be opened.

"I trust that you'll do a great job. Please, review the conditions of the partnership and put down your signature. We're willing to another deal with you," Mr. George said, expressing his willingness to invest.

After carefully reading through the documents, "it's a fair deal," he projected, scrabbling his signature on the document.

The billion-dollar investment was a casino, a massive one. That was the best way to launder the drug money effectively without raising suspicions. That way, the FBI would hardly have any reason to search.

The deal was important. Having fronts like the casino, chains of hotels, and technology companies under Lorenzo had kept him away from the itching eyes of the authorities. As far as the world knew, he was a successful businessman.

"See you next week, Mr. Lizzo," Mr. George said. He gave a subtle nod and made for the door. "The money will be wired immediately," he added as he approached the exit.

"I want a million dollars in cash and the remaining then wired."

"Okay. That can be arranged."

Lorenzo made this proposal to serve as bait in a bid to capture his attackers that carted away with the proceeds of his last transaction and left his man dead. If they were foolish enough to attack again, it would be his opportunity to get them.

Thinking about it now, that incident might be linked to the hits they'd been getting lately. Was there anyone who would follow him from Italian soil to American territory?

This was the best shot they'd at attacking him anyway. His exercise of power was limited in America, but not in Italy.

He would go back to Italy after some months and whosoever it was, better have the same balls they have now to play with fire.

Exhausted from all he was dealing with, Lorenzo requested entertainment. Since he was a VIP, the club sent the best of girls to make their favorite client happy.

Lorenzo wasn't fixated on girls. He only pleasured himself and paid them off. They meant nothing to him, and he wasn't the relationship type. Men like him saw it as a sign of weakness, and he wasn't weak.

Less than ten minutes later, exotic girls were sent to Lorenzo. They brought with them different drinks and snacks, including a tray of fruits. Some of them got to set the table, while others flung themselves at uninterested Lorenzo.

As the girls snaked their bodies around him, trying to get his attention, Lorenzo got irritated instead of excited.

What was happening? He didn't even bother to take a second look at the girl wriggling on the pole. About two others were caressing his body, and it felt like they were scrapping his skin. Their touches burned.

"Stop touching me," he mumbled. Not too low for their hearing and not too loud to scare them.

His head ached, causing him to massage his temple. Raising his gaze, it fell on a girl that just entered. She looked lost and irritated. Like she was forced to be there.

Lorenzo adjusted in his seat, staring lustfully at the girl. She was nothing like Lorenzo's type. Still, something about her got his attention. She was a blonde. A thing Lorenzo couldn't resist. His entire body came to life. He was going for her.