Married to the mafia King

Dario

The Turk arrived three hours after Alessandra and my brothers left.

I watched from a window as he drove up in a small convoy of BMWs. When he got out of his car, two bodyguards flanked him on either side. Everyone else stayed in their vehicles.

I had instructed my men the low-level foot soldiers who guarded the estate to search them for weapons. Only once they were determined to be clean were they allowed inside.

Niccolo met them at the front door. Then he brought the Turk alone into the study where Roberto, Adriano, and I were waiting.

Lars wasn’t with us. He was stationed on the roof, waiting with his sniper rifle…

Just in case the Turk’s men got a bit unruly.

“Mr. Erdogan,” I said as I shook his hand.

“Don Rosolini,” the Turk said. He was an older man, probably 45, tall and impeccably dressed in a suit. He would have been handsome if not for the jagged scar that ran from his left ear to the corner of his mouth. “I have to say, I’m not used to being frisked like some common thug at a nightclub.”

His comment irked me. I wondered if that was the intended effect.

“Security is our highest priority,” I said coolly as we all sat down. “I’m sure you understand.”

“I know your uncle trusts me,” the Turk replied in his heavily accented Italian.

“In this house, trust is earned. What can I do for you today.”

“Straight to business, eh?” he said with a grin that was made sinister by his scar. “Fausto said you would get right down to brass tacks.”

“I don’t want to waste my time or yours.”

Niccolo gave me a disapproving look, but I disliked the man’s demeanor. There was a lack of respect in his tone that I found irritating.

My father wouldn’t have stood for it… and if Fausto did, then he was a fool even if he was my uncle.

The Turk nodded. “Alright, here it is: we’re doing business with the Agrella family in Florence.”

The Agrellas were a rival family that ruled over most of Florence.

However, we were the ones with the politicians and judges in our pocket.

The Agrellas ran the streets; the Rosolinis controlled the halls of government.

Our families had observed an uneasy alliance for over 20 years. It had never once been violated in all that time.

The Turk continued. “But, as we both know, I must go through your territory in Tuscany to deliver my goods to the Agrellas. I’d like to leverage your connections to move my wares into Florence, for which you would receive a 10% cut of revenue. If there were additional issues I needed handling say, bribing a judge or the police I would be willing to negotiate those on a case-by-case basis.”

“10% is a bit low,” Roberto said. “We’d normally charge 20%.”

“That was understandable when your father was alive,” the Turk replied. “But since his death, I have to wonder if 20% is really worth it.”

His words were beyond rude.

Adriano, hothead that he was, leapt to his feet. “Vaffanculo, pezzo di merda!”

Fuck you, piece of shit!

The Turk raised his hands. “I did not mean to give offense. My Italian is not the best. I was simply stating what I see as the reality of the situation.”

“The reality of the situation,” Niccolo said coldly, “doesn’t include insulting our family.”

“Am I, though? After your father’s death, the family’s territory was split between you and your uncle, no? So the once-formidable Rosolini empire is now broken in two. Am I incorrect in stating it thus?” the Turk said, his choice of words a bit stiff and formal.

Adriano, Niccolo, and Roberto looked at me to see my reaction.

I kept my temper. I already disliked the Turk, but I wasn’t going to quibble over percentages. Not when there were far more pressing questions.

“I’m more interested in exactly what kind of ‘wares’ you’ll be providing to the Agrellas,” I said.

“Drugs, for one,” the Turk said. “We have opium and heroin from Turkey, plus I have a connection from South America for cocaine. And we have methamphetamine labs throughout Serbia and Croatia. Then there are the girls we bring in from Eastern Europe ”

“I can stop you right there,” I said coldly. “We don’t deal with sex trafficking anymore, and we’re out of the drug trade as well.”

The Turk looked at me as though I’d gone insane. “Since when?”

“Since the death of my father and the empire was broken in two,” I said sardonically.

“But… your father dealt in all those things I know he did ”

“Yes, well, today is a new day, I am the new don of the family, and we choose not to sully our hands.”

The Turk’s cheeks flushed with anger. “Are you saying my hands are sullied, then?”

“What am I incorrect in stating it thus?” I asked sarcastically as I threw his own words back in his face.NôvelDrama.Org © 2024.

The Turk’s voice grew colder. “If I may be so bold if you are completely out of the sex and drug trade, then what do you deal in?”

I gestured at Roberto to take over.

He nodded and turned to the Turk. “As you stated earlier, our primary strengths are political influence and our connections in the police and court system. We also control ports along the western coast, including the smuggling of stolen goods. Then there’s gambling, which we intend to make our main source of revenue over the next two years.”

“Gambling,” the Turk scoffed. “That’s nowhere near as big as what I can offer you.”

“We’ll worry about that,” I said. “As you can see, your aims are incompatible with ours… which means we won’t be doing business.”

“How am I supposed to get my goods into Florence?” the Turk snarled.

“Fly them in. I don’t control the airways.”

“Look, all I need is land transportation ”

“If the Agrellas want to hire local girls to be sex workers, I can’t control that,” I snapped. “But you won’t be trafficking women across my territory. The same goes for drugs.”

The Turk shook his head and scoffed. “Your uncle said you’d gone soft.”

My anger grew even hotter when I heard his words.

Whatever disagreements Fausto and I had had in the past, my uncle should have never spoken against family like that.

“Yes, well, perhaps you should do business with him,” I said coldly. “I think that concludes our business for today.”

The Turk scowled. “No, it doesn’t ”

I stared him down. “Yes, it DOES. My brother will show you out. Adriano?”

“With pleasure,” Adriano said as he walked over to the Turk’s chair.

“You’re passing up a major opportunity there,” the Turk snarled.

“Oh well.”

The Turk shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

“Believe it.”

Adriano started to take the man’s arm, but the Turk jerked it away and rose on his own. Then he walked out of the room with Adriano following close behind.

“Well, that was interesting,” Niccolo said after they’d left.

“Are you getting the same feeling that I am?” I asked.

“That this wasn’t about doing business with us, but sizing us up to see if he wants to make a move?” Niccolo said. “Absolutely.”

“If Fausto actually said that about us going soft, we need to have a talk with him,” Roberto said.

“I was thinking the exact same thing,” I muttered. “Niccolo, call our ‘dear uncle’ and arrange something for tomorrow.”