Mafia Kings: Adriano: Chapter 8
Our cars pulled up to a building in the old section of Florence.
Back in the day, it had probably been a palace of some sort. Now it had been converted into a five-star hotel.Belongs to © n0velDrama.Org.
There was a circular drive in front of the building. A couple of valets and bellboys were waiting around – but they seemed nervous because of the six goons in dark suits standing next to them.
“This is it,” I said to Lars and Massimo. “Let’s go. Vincenzo, stay with the car.”
“You got it, boss.”
Lars, Massimo, and I got out – along with six guys from the other two Mercedes. Altogether there were nine of us as we strolled over to the Agrellas’ henchmen.
“Signor Rosolini,” one of the suits said, then moved to frisk me.
“I’ll save you some time. I got a Glock in the back of my pants, and all my friends are packin’. But you even touch me, you’re gonna draw back a bloody stump.”
The guy got a worried look on his face. He was a low-level stooge and I was a capo; he knew better than to mess with me.
But he tried anyway.
“I got orders,” he said.
“Yeah? Well, here’s your new orders: fuck off.”
I started to walk past him –
And he put a hand on my shoulder.
I slapped it off and got up in his face. “WHAT the fuck did you just do?”
Lars, Massimo, and my men all tensed.
The Agrellas’ goons all looked like they were about to shit a brick.
Suddenly the front door of the hotel opened and somebody new came hustling out:
Carmine Agrella.
Forty-five, paunchy, and greying, he was one of the Agrellas’ capos – and the brother of Dominic Agrella, the don of the family.
I’d met Carmine several times over the years. He was a grinning, backslapping idiot in a $5000 suit.
I didn’t trust him any farther than I could throw him.
“Adriano!” he said with a big smile and his arms thrown out in the air, like we were old pals. “So good to see you!”
I wanted to say Yeah? Almost as good as when you let those assholes try to kill my family?
But I held my tongue.
“Carmine,” I said.
“Welcome to you all!” he said to my crew.
“Thanks,” I said sardonically. “Now if you’ll just lead the way, we can go inside and get things started.”
Carmine winced like he was really, really sorry about what he was going to say next.
“Ah – we have to insist: no guns in the meeting.”
“Yeah, fuck that,” I snapped. “We’re not handing anything over – not to you, not to your boys, not to nobody.”
Carmine winced some more. “I apologize – I really do – but I must insist.”
“Yeah? You ‘must insist’? Well after what happened to HIM – ”
I pointed at Massimo.
“ – and my brother Valentino and my sister Alessandra last month, on YOUR territory, I must insist that you go FUCK yourselves in the ass. We’re here as a courtesy to YOU, not the other way around. So if you want us to hand over our guns – have a nice night, we’ll be on our way. Come on,” I said to my guys as I turned back to the car.
“Signore,” Carmine pleaded.
“Say hi to Don Agrella for me,” I snapped as one of my foot soldiers opened the rear door of the Mercedes. “Tell him my brother sends his regards.”
“You know what?” Carmine said in a conciliatory voice. “It’s fine. Come on in. Keep your guns. You’re our guests. That’s what’s important.”
Aha – there it was.
I’d been expecting him to fold, and he had.
Before I could say anything, though, Carmine added a caveat.
“Although if we make this concession… it would have to be just you and your brother. Your men would have to stay outside.”
I weighed that for a split second.
My foot soldiers weren’t gonna be in such a high-level meeting anyway, so…
“Lars, too,” I said as I pointed at him.
Carmine smiled like we were all one big happy family. “Absolutely.”
“Alright, then.” I stepped away from the Mercedes. “Everybody but Lars and Massimo, stay here with the cars.”
Carmine beamed and swept his arm towards the hotel. “Right this way!”
I followed behind him with Massimo on my right and Lars on my left.
“Nicely played,” Lars said under his breath so only I could hear it.
“High risk, high reward, right?” I muttered back as we entered the lobby of the hotel.