Chapter 62: Chapter 62

Florence, Italy

◆ MILES ◆

"Quando penso che meno incompetente di così non si può essere..."

Thump.

Thud.

"Leo, w-we tried everything!" said a panicking British man's voice. "Gave them two times their cut!"

"Imbeciles!"

Bump.

Whack.

Glass shattering.

"I wouldn't— W-Why would I—"

"D'ora in poi, figlio di puttana!"

"Stop! No—  Leo!"

More screaming.

Begging..

Glass breaking again...

Shit.

This might just be the worst time to shove fucking triplicates into the big bad wolf's face—especially if the latter's obviously busy schedule included closed-door "meetings" with his incompetent employees.

While my liquid courage shriveled into nothingness, I tensed up my leg to stop it from trembling beneath my ironed black slacks.  The expensive scotch I'd downed on the drive here had settled into a pool of untrustworthy warmth in my gut.

The door to the other side of the cold, dim office dulled the ruckus Leandro Tomassini made.  This 40-storey skyscraper in the middle of the bustling city was his prime territory, so, naturally, nobody dared to tell him what to do and what not to do.

His distinct grunts stifled the profanities while the big boss continued to beat some guy into a bloody pulp.  Probably with his bare hands.  It sounded like a business transaction gone wrong.

I frowned. Leaving this fucked up place before bigger shit hit the fan would be best.  Making it out of here alive and unscathed would be great, too.

The revised contracts stayed prim and snug in the envelopes sitting on the stained oak, just begging for the boss' attention.   Too bad they'd have to wait another hour or so.   Leandro Tomassini liked to keep other people waiting, apparently.

"Watch him sign on the dotted line, shake hands, then get the fuck outta here." I mumbled the reminder to myself, my hands and neck remaining tense and cold.

Did the freakishly brawny bodyguard lead me to the wrong room?  If the boss was too busy to entertain uninvited guests, why did the secretary let me through without a word?

"Two fucked up shipments in the same month!" Leandro's voice, although muffled by solid concrete, would still make anyone's heart jump into their throat.  "Worthless piece of shit!"

Thump. Thump.

Yelling.

Gurgling.

Then silence.

I bolted upright when the door beside the bookshelf flew open, spewing out a panting man a few inches shorter than me. The guy wore a wrinkled, collared shirt and gray slacks. So formal and proper for someone who enjoyed bloody fistfights practically any chance he could get.

Ricchar had told me of Leandro's underground fight clubs and active participation in Calcio Fiorentino.  I had since got more definite ideas about the guy's pastimes.

"Welcome." Leandro slammed the door shut.  Despite his appearance, his tone was quite enthusiastic, and his Italian accent was a bit thicker than his brother's.  "Care to explain why your girlfriend's keeping my idiot brother on a tight leash?"

I stayed still on the visitor's chair. Was that blood on his knuckles?  I squinted to focus on the guy's fists, ignoring his insinuation about Mykaela and Lorenzio's apparent relationship.

"Anyways, sorry to have kept you waiting."  Leandro combed back his straight dark hair that almost touched his bearded jaw, his eyes obscured by shadows.

Did I hear that right?  An apology.  An actual apology from this paranoid psycho.

"So," Leandro then prompted with a teeth-bearing grin. He pulled out a folded handkerchief from his pocket. He spent a while just wiping the redness off his scratched and bloody knuckles. Both of us fell dead quiet for a moment.  "Here to do business or what?"

"It's done. Changed everything you told us to." I sat back down on the chair in front of the boss' desk, hoping this whole thing wouldn't take much longer, awaiting anything but a negative response. "Your lawyers already checked."

"I heard."

"And I'm not supposed to leave without your signature on those papers."

"I bet." Leandro feigned a smile. "Been there, too, you know.  Your father and mine?  Cut from the same cloth." Leandro put away his bloodstained handkerchief and settled in the swivel chair. His gaze was now pinned on the stack of paperwork to his right.

I could only watch as the guy started signing the topmost bunch one by one.

Leandro spent about a minute on each page before scribbling his signature on the papers.  Not the contracts, though.  The long binders stayed untouched on the other side of the desk, quietly and patiently waiting for the big boss to pick them up.

Long, tense minutes of total silence left me clenching my teeth together. Keeping my breathing steady while forcing my restless leg to stay still required effort and patience. If only I could, by now I'd be storming out of this building without a single word.

Fuck this.  I had no plans to be an errand boy for my father for another year, much less be some psychotic Italian heir's bitch, just so I could prove to the entire Falco clan that I wasn't as useless as they all thought.

No fucking way.

If the psycho didn't want to sign the deal, then fine. I was outta here.  "Do I need to kiss your ass some more before you sign it?"

"Feisty." Leandro grinned lopsidedly. "But since we're past the bullshit..." Leandro's dark eyes centered on me again. "In return, I'd prefer you get a grip on your girl. My family's not fond of unwanted distractions."

Unwanted distractions?  Was that a threat?  This psycho's now threatening to hurt Mykaela, just because he wanted her to stay away from his younger brother?

"Lorenzio's supposed to be dealing with this on his own. My workload's full to the brim as it is, as you can tell."

"Leave her alone. I'll take care of it."

"You'd better." Leandro chuckled. It didn't have an ounce of humor, though.  "I trust you're a man of your word?"

The fuck did he mean? Was it a trick question?

"Besides, the girl can be useful to your family," the guy muttered while he nodded faintly and flipped through some paperwork.  "Is that why you dated her?" Leandro glanced at me with another menacing grin.  "Unfortunately for you, she'd rather fuck my brother."

"You gonna sign them or not?"

"Relax, Young Falco. You're not wasting your time. Trust me."

Trust him?  This creep must be joking.

"Sit back. Stay comfortable."  Leandro regarded me with his tenacious, shadowed eyes, the dangerous glint in them matching the fake pleasantness in his sinister words.  "We'll get there, bambino."

Okay. This asshole's really asking for it.

Breathe...

Sit still and wait.

Not here to kill this nutjob.

Save it for another night.

As I replayed the cautious reminders in my head,  I opted to show calmness. My nails kept digging into my palm until I stopped squeezing my fist on the thick armrest.   "I got a flight to catch."

"Just curious." Leandro glanced to the revised contracts sitting right on his crowded desk.  "What do you get out of this?  When all this is done and over with?"

I forced a grin. My agitated thoughts were put on pause once the question sank in.  What's in it for me?  Did this psycho really just ask me that? Why did he give a shit?

"I'm seriously curious." Leandro's creasing brows drew some lines on his tan forehead. "What would they offer you once this is all settled?"

"The choice to be away from all this fucking madness."  I crossed my arms over my chest and stared back at the guy. Although I'd initially felt scared of this initial meetup,  now that this certified headcase was pushing all the right buttons, I was no longer that eager to dash out the door. "Why won't you just sign the damn papers?"

"Easy." Leandro sat back in his swivel chair and cracked his wounded knuckles. The faint sound momentarily filled the dead silence in the room. "I like to control everything."

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