Chapter 4 Room

ROCCO.

The man in front of me ran as if he could run away from me. He looked back, desperate and I gave him a half smile before taking a few steps forward and giving him a crawl. His body hit the wet asphalt with a thud, which caught the attention of some passers-by, who with my eyes, disappeared. I turned my attention to my target.

- Please don't take me to him. I'll give you everything you want - you begged. He was urinating himself before getting into my fucking car, what an idiot.

- You don't have anything I want. - I tied your hands and when I came back to whining, my fist went against your face. He deleted it. The boss said not to hurt too much, in my excuse, he was particularly angry. I let it go in the trunk, because not even fucking that wet and pissed would be in my back seat.

I drove along the roads that led to Villa Itália[7]. The gates opened as I approached at high speed and took the guest to the ordered shed. I parked and waited for them to pick up the cargo, leaving in reverse and not staying to fraternize. I never stayed. I went back to my temporary place in Sicily, it was dark and there wasn't much in the kitchen.

I served myself with fresh bread that one of the ladies gave me earlier, cheese, tomatoes and wine. Later, if I was in the mood, I would go out to eat something. I had some services that would need all my attention and it was good not to have any distraction or an excessively full stomach, causing me slowness.

My senses needed to be on alert.

The satellite phone whistled and I looked at the message, pulling my hair when I thought that after finishing my next task I would need to go back to New York, since Enzo Rafaelli needed to talk to me in person. It was an order. No details. Not that he needed it. Order was order and period.

I answered accordingly and went back to eating, looking at the serene night. It's been a long time since I've been to a place with a starry sky like that.

And I knew the boss was close to pressuring me to go back to the place he belonged to. I looked at the tattoo on my arm, representing my place of birth and pulled the sleeve back. When the time came, I left the foolish thoughts that didn't help me in anything aside and I totally focused on work.

It was almost dawning when I opened the tap of my temporary place and washed the blood from my hands. My boots were dirty from an event that had gone a little out of plan, but rather him than me. I was good at fighting to save my life - not that she had really been at risk at some point. That idiot was drugging the girls of the club that was responsible and that was against the rules.

He hesitated, there was no conversation.

My duty was to ensure order until it was time to take my place, something I didn't want.

I cleaned my boots and kept them in my suitcase, cleaning the place to make it look like it was never inhabited. I tore the identity and passport that I entered the country, took another one and went by train to London. It didn't take long to cross and get to the airport. The boarding line for New York was almost endless, there was a couple trying to control two scandalous children who were attracting attention.

I pulled the hood over my head and lowered my face, staying away from the interest of others. I took a step back when I realized that the little girl with pink cheeks had a very pale mouth. She threw up all her father's clothes, splashing on my shoes. The mother,

Terrified, she apologized to me thousands. I waved and changed places in the stupid and disorganized queue.

It was easy to travel off the radar. However, I needed time. My boss wanted me in a few hours in his office and I had to turn around. He was not interested in what I would do to be there at the time he determined.

In my armchair, I hid and stayed in mine. The man next to me snored all the time while I fantasied pushing him out the window just to stop being unpleasant.

When I landed with my American identity, I had no problem passing. The man on the other side of the counter barely checked my data, approving immediately and releasing me to pass with my luggage. I went straight to my apartment in the city, changing clothes and leaving my pistol on my waist, a knife in each boot.

The family complex was half empty, but it was a facade. There were more sentinels and cameras than the Pentagon. As I walked, the doors were unlocked and it was not because I had access but because they were following my steps to the building where it was expected on the seventh floor.

- Come in. - Enzo determined without turning his place in the window. - You did an excellent job in Europe.

I nodded. I wouldn't appreciate it for that.

- Is there anything else for me?

- I need you to spend some time on the island until you are summoned again. I understand that you still don't want to stay there permanently, but your people need your attention. - He turned a little and I refused to let my feelings show.

- Is it an order? - I challenged, feeling a restlessness fill me to the point of almost making me explode.

- It always is. You are a Sartori and you must be on Sartori Island for a few months, control the accesses and show men that you have control of that piece of land.

- Only because you allow it - I spoke with honor.

- Yes, and because it is your blood that has built that place so important for our family. He is an honorable man carrying power and honor in his chest. - He pointed and looked into his eyes. - We don't betray our people!

- The honor I carry on my chest is best used by being an executor.

I was crossing the fucking line in arguing against the boss of all the bosses, one of the few who knew absolutely everything about me, including my true identity.

- The power you carry in your last name is what matters. I know you don't like being a gentleman, but you are. It's in your blood. Your refusal to accept and understand the importance is a tremendous offense to your ancestors! It's the last time we discussed it, Rocco - determined and, reluctantly, I nodded. - It won't be forever. Not yet. At some point, the island will need you permanently.

- Yes, sir.

Enzo served two doses of well-aged whiskey and offered me a glass. We toast and drink. The liquid was already so common that it no longer burned my throat. I only felt the delicious taste and enjoyed it on my lips.

- Before going, Dante[8] needs your services.

It was better that it was a very good thing and distracted me before sticking myself in the middle of the ocean, on an island that my family founded many centuries ago.