Chapter 7 Seventh

ROCCO.

The speedboat advanced between the high waves of the ocean and every mile,

I could see the closest Sartori Island [9]. It was one of the oldest islands on the Italian coast, inhabited by Napoleon Sartori for more than two centuries, passing from generation to generation until my great-grandfather was part of the family and made that place an important piece of the whole territory.

They called it the tax island or the treasure island, a remote little place and disinterested by the authorities and tourists.

A real fortress that had its own commerce and residents, everyone who somehow belonged to me and were part of my share of the business. I was the Sartori heir to that place. The only one alive after my family's yacht sank by a calculated attack of enemies. I was left to live to my own fate. As a child, a distant cousin was left to command until I became a made man.

I wasn't there the whole time. In fact, it was the place I visited the least if I could choose. Living on the island gave me the feeling of claustrophobia. I was a man of the world. Nomad. No fixed address. A

Island reminded me of what I didn't have. How could I build something if I had nothing in life?

I stopped the speedboat on the main deck and my men ran to help me with the ropes. I sleped out with my luggage, giving a nod and warning that later, at dinner, we would talk. I walked unhurriedly through the streets, watching the restaurants opening, some children running in the square and went ahead to the main mansion. The biggest house. Eighteen rooms in Italian castle style, at the top of the island.

Above, there were the observation posts. The edges that had no sand, had cannons that were not old, but well renovated to maintain the protection of the island from any invasions.

- Welcome back, Mr. Sartori. - My housekeeper received me at the door. She was a short, chubby lady, who had been taking care of the house for a few years along with other women.

- Thank you, Mariana. Prepare a banquet for the meeting with my men.

- Yes, sir. Your room is prepared - He warned and I nodded, going up the stairs to the room that was in front of the beach.

The windows were open and the color of the ocean was beautiful on the edge, transparent and inviting. I left my bag in bed and took off my clothes,

Going out through the double doors of the balcony and going down the stairs only in underwear. The exit was straight on the sand of the beach. I tead in some small stones and shells, entering the ocean and dived headlong, giving strokes to the bottom.

That private beach was the good side of the island. A paradise that belonged to me and no one dared to use it when I was there.

After the dive, I took a shower and dedicated myself to checking the finances. I released payments and went underground, looking at the family's treasure that no one but me had access to. It was a burden and a confidence. A blessing for a sub-boss and a curse. I closed the safe again and went up, locking the steel door that I only opened with my fingerprint and scanning my eyes.

Mariana left a snack at the office. She was silent and never bothered me, but she acted like a worried mother whenever I was around. I devoured the pastrami sandwich with rye bread along with a good mug of coffee. I felt satisfaction to see that our numbers were very good, in all trades and in the tax on the use of the decks for the supply of some fishing boats that were by the sea around the island.

I sent what I needed to the hierarchy above me and tried not to think about the fucking boredom that would be to stay there for the next few days, playing the feudal lord. I needed to solve everything as quickly as possible to get back to my life.

At night, I watched the men laugh and talk a lot of nonsense, drinking and devouring all the food that Mariana and the women in the kitchen did. Living around the world, I had already tried a lot of good cuisine, but the food at home was always the best of all. My phone whistled, with a message of approval and an order for a very discreet service for Romano Carlucci's father-in-law, Tiago Bracci.

I waited for the weather to improve to catch the biggest yacht and make a slightly longer trip. There was a storm on the first night and it was interesting to watch the ocean revolt, because it was like my life. Just like my interior. The heavy rain hit the windows, clouding the navigation a little, but soon passed and the sky starred as if it hadn't rained.

We arrived in Sicily early in the morning. The pier was silent, only a few fishermen returning from night fishing and none of them seemed to care about the disembarkation of five men in black, obviously armed and getting into waiting cars. Bracci's envoys were of few words.

My men were trained to be like me: no traces, without leaving our existence registered, not least because any false step could draw attention to the island and there was the last place we would like to have the interested authorities.

I walked away from them because I never walked in a bunch. It drew a lot of attention. Tiago Bracci needed help to clean up a group of former police officers who were rising up like a kind of militia against the

Local command that belonged to Damon Galattore[10]. Before the shit exploded with the bosses, a quiet job was necessary. Enrico di

Fabrizzi [11] was not known for acting coldly.

My duty was to clean the rotten band.

And I did. I still stopped by the restaurant that was being targeted to let the owner know in person. I could imagine that the harassment was scaring your teenage daughter, but it was a beautiful brown-haired woman who totally gained my attention. She had chocolate brown eyes, framed by eyelashes that gave her the look of a deer ready for slaughter.

Wearing a blue, flowery and loose dress on her body, she looked very young, but the curves showed that she was a made woman.

Maria Bracci. Beautifully breathtaking. An untouchable princess.

What the hell was she doing there?

I didn't know it was related to the owner of the restaurant and her father should be very desperate to promise her to a widowed, low-income man with a teenage daughter. Soon she, a little princess. Not only for the tempting angelic appearance, but for the position of his family.

Rose Bracci was the mother of the future boss of all the bosses and this was no longer a secret to anyone and her sister, Anastasia, had married a powerful man of command, Romano Carlucci.

Maybe it was love, I thought ironically, with a desire to laugh. That was none of my stall. I took the meal that was offered and left there without looking back. I had more to do than conjecture about the reasons of that girl in a simple restaurant located on the very quiet side of the city.

I was under surveillance, walking in the right places and collecting more information. No group got up without a leader. Nothing was done without a command and I needed to make sure he would be eliminated if he wasn't with the ones I found. Tiago Bracci was sure that the heart of the idea was inside the police, who after the arrival of a new captain, were swallowing the order of the family with difficulty.

Either he entered the game or he would be eliminated. Just in case, Damon wanted his head. Sicily belonged to the family and there would be no one to discuss staying alive to get an answer.

I was photographing a strange movement when I received a desperate call from Bracci asking him to rescue his daughter from an attack. I just heard it. I didn't say anything. I couldn't promise that I would find her alive. His guard was the first dead man I saw, the car door was open as if he had run to save her and was hit in the back.

I entered the kitchen, skipping the dead and without waiting for my arrival, I surprised two who were in the main hall looking at the accounting books. They fell into a soft thum because they went on top of other bodies. Irritated by the mess and the attention they called, I looked for the girl until I heard a noise in the next room. She was on the floor, with her eyes closed and opened them exactly when I entered and shot.

I never thought about the people I killed. For me, they were nothing. However, that man who touched her was more. I felt his death for being a miserable mouse capable of hurting a woman.

Maria was in shock, she could barely move, but she looked into my eyes as if I were her saving angel. He held on to me with the

Confidence that he would take her safely to her father and closed his eyes when I ordered, trying to preserve her innocence from the chaos that was in the main hall.

I wasn't a savior. My duty was to be an angel of death, but if she needed it, she could count on me.