Chapter 2 Miss Escobar

Gambino leapt out of his chair, the leather squeaking with protest, and his eyes grew wide. His voice was low and urgent as he gave Ace, his most trusted man, a fierce look. "What do you mean he is here?" he demanded.

"He just arrived, boss," Ace replied, his expression neutral. "He is expecting you."

Gambino's heart was racing like a jackrabbit, and his palms were sweaty. He nodded abruptly, his mind racing with the implications. Following what had happened the previous time, he knew this day would come sooner or later.

"Eloise," he muttered, his thoughts turning to her safety. "Take some men to her room, make sure she's protected."

With a nod, Ace walked out of the room, leaving a trail of sound behind him.

Gambino inhaled deeply and pressed a composed mask over his face. He walked out of his office, into the living area, where Vincent Lucchese waited.

The moment their eyes locked, Gambino's heart missed a beat. He tried to smile, but it seemed to be a slit in his mask. "Mr. Lucchese, welcome to my home."

Vincent's eyes gleamed with a trace of malice, and his mouth curled into a thin smile. "I am glad to be here," he said, sounding very fake.

Gambino's instincts urged him to exercise caution. He knew Vincent's smile was a trick, and he could strike even though he was just smiling with you minutes ago.

With a gesture to the door, he said, "Please, let us go to my office."

Never missing a beat, Vincent nodded. Sure.

With the door shut behind them, Gambino's heart thumped in his chest. He gestured for Vincent to sit down, but Vincent did not move, a grin teasing the corners of his mouth.

"A drink, please." Gambino offered, trying to sound casual.

"No, thank you," Vincent grinned in response. "I like to remain observant during significant discussions."

Gambino nodded, a bead of sweat forming on his back. He took a seat behind his desk, hoping to calm his nerves. Finally, Vincent took a seat and leaned back, appearing more relaxed than the threat he posed.

"So, Gambino," Vincent began, his tone light, "let's talk about my ships."

Gambino felt his mouth go dry. "Your ships?"

"Yes, the ones carrying my weapons. The ones your men decided to bomb," Vincent said, his smile never faltering. "I must say, that was quite the surprise."

Gambino swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet Vincent's gaze. "I'm truly sorry about that. It was a grave mistake on my men's part. I've already dealt with them."

Vincent chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Dealt with them? How so?"

"They're no longer with us," Gambino said, his voice low. "I made sure of it personally, There are with the lord, now."

Vincent's eyes gleamed with amusement. "Oh, I have no doubt you did. But you see, Gambino, the damage has already been done. Those weapons were... valuable."

Gambino nodded, feeling the weight of the situation press against him. "I am aware of how serious the situation is. I want to make it right."

"Make it right?" Vincent leaned forward, his smile turning cold. "How do you propose to do that?"

"I can offer compensation," Gambino said quickly. "Whatever it takes to cover the loss."

Vincent laughed, a chilling sound that sent shivers down Gambino's spine. "Compensation? You think money can replace the trust that was broken?"

Gambino's heart sank. He knew this was more than just a financial loss for Vincent. It was a power and respect issue.

"I will do whatever it takes to regain your trust," Gambino declared earnestly. "Just tell me what you need, please."

Vincent's smile vanished and was replaced by a deadly serious expression. "Gambino, I need reassurance that this will not occur once more. And a gesture of good faith."

"Anything," Gambino said, desperation creeping into his voice.

Vincent's eyes bore into him. "I want access to your distribution network. Exclusivity for my next shipment."

Gambino's breath caught. He knew what Vincent was asking for-a significant slice of his operations.

"Done," Gambino said, not seeing any other way out. "You have my word."

Vincent's smile returned, but it was devoid of warmth. "Good. I'm glad we could reach an understanding."

Gambino nodded, feeling a mix of relief and dread. He had bought some time, but he knew Vincent would be watching closely, ready to strike at the first sign of betrayal.

The door to Gambino's office burst open. Eloise stormed in, her face flushed with anger.

"Dad! Your men wouldn't let me out of my room! And now they're trying to force me back!" she exclaimed, her voice echoing through the room.

Gambino's eyes widened in alarm. "Eloise, this isn't the time-"

But before he could say anything more, Eloise turned to look at Vincent. The realization of what had happened caused her breath to catch in her throat. It was him, the guy who would walked into her at the club and spilt his drink on her without even saying sorry.

"You!" she exclaimed, sounding both shocked and enraged.

Vincent slowly turned his head to look at her, a small smile playing on his lips. "Ah, Miss Escobar. We meet again."

Gambino's heart sank as he realized the gravity of the situation. "Eloise, please-"

But she ignored her father's plea, her eyes locked on Vincent. "You have some nerve showing up here after what you did."

"Eloise," Gambino tried to intervene, but Vincent held up his hand, stopping him.

"Let her speak," Vincent said with a chuckle.

"Daddy... he was the guy I told you about, the one who poured his drink on me without apologizing," Eloise exclaimed, her voice full of rage.

"Uhm... maybe you should let it go, baby," Gambino suggested, but Eloise's eyes went wide immediately.

"Let it go? Daddy!" she exclaimed, turning back to Vincent. "So arrogant," she said, rolling her eyes before storming out of the office.

"I am so sorry about her, Mr. Lucchese," Gambino apologized, but Vincent just smiled.

"You didn't tell me you had such a beautiful daughter," Vincent said, and Gambino went mute.

"The last time I saw her, I think she was about ten when your dear wife died," Vincent continued his voice low and measured. "I remember the way you held her hand at the funeral, the way you tried to comfort her. You were always a good father, Gambino."

Gambino's eyes flashed with a mixture of grief, guilt, and fear. He knew that Vincent was not just reminiscing, but also sending a message. A message that he knew Gambino's weaknesses, his vulnerabilities.

Vincent's gaze seemed to bore into Gambino's soul. It is amazing how quickly time passes. They are children one minute and mature women with their own lives the next. However, some wounds never heal, do they?Gambino?"

Gesturing his jaw tightly in a quiet battle to keep his composure, Gambino's face revealed a mask of stress. He was aware that Vincent was the prey in a game of cat and mouse in which he was participating.

"Maybe I might come here more often, you know," Vincent said, laughing loudly.

"You're welcome anytime," Gambino replied, forcing a smile.

"Until next time. I hope our next encounter will be under better circumstances," Vincent said, his eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and menace.

Gambino nodded, watching as Vincent left the office. The room still felt very tense, and he could not get rid of the feeling that the dangerous man who had just left was becoming more and more involved in his life.

~~

Vincent fixed his gaze on the man who was strapped to a chair and had a black sack over his head.

"Remove it," he commanded. One of his men nodded and swiftly pulled off the sack, revealing a disheveled and bruised face.

"Oh wow... dear cousin," Vincent said, letting out a chilling laugh.

"Fuck you," the man spat out in a voice full of defiance. Vincent's laughter echoed throughout the dimly lit room, adding to the tension.

"How's your father?" Vincent asked, stepping closer, his eyes gleaming with a predatory light.

"None of your fucking business," the man retorted, trying to sound brave.

"Hmm," Vincent sighed, picking up one of the guns from the torture table and inspecting it with casual interest. "I know, I know... first, they play hard to get, then we end up getting everything from them. How beautiful."

"You can't kill me," the man said, his voice shaking slightly. Vincent gasped in mock surprise.

"Is your daddy gonna beat me up?" Vincent taunted, his laughter sinister and cold.

"Aaron, Aaron, Aaron," Vincent called, his voice dripping with mock affection as he caressed the cold metal against Aaron's head. "How would you feel about your brains being blown out?"

Fear gripped Aaron, his bravado crumbling. "You won't do it," he stammered, but Vincent just laughed, a dark, menacing sound.

"I might change my mind on one condition," Vincent said, his tone suddenly businesslike.

"What?" Aaron asked, desperation clear in his voice.

"It's not hard... I want all the information about your father's business. Every detail about his operations, shipments, contacts, everything," Vincent demanded.

"No... that's not possible. I can't give you that," Aaron protested, his voice wavering.

"Well, we made a deal... except...." Vincent pressed the gun harder against Aaron's throat, his eyes cold and unfeeling.

"Fine, fine... I'll tell you," Aaron said, his will finally broken.

"Wow... such a good boy. Your father must be proud of you," Vincent said with a smirk.

"His weapons will be shipped next week Thursday," Aaron began, his voice trembling. "And he's planning a major deal with the Russian mafia. That's all I know."

Vincent smiled, a predator satisfied with his prey's surrender. Without warning, he pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped through Aaron's jaw and lodged in his skull, permanently silencing him.

"Oops," Vincent casually stated, turning to one of his men. "Clean that up and give me all updates about the Colombo family."

The man nodded, moving quickly to obey.

Vincent's smile faded as he noticed a splash of blood on his pristine suit. His expression turned to one of disgust.

"Eww," Vincent murmured, brushing at the stain. He hated blood stains so much.

"Burn these clothes," he said, immediately pulling off his suit jacket and shirt.

"Yes, boss," one of his men responded, quickly taking the garments away.

With a sigh, Vincent ran a hand through his hair. He was disgusted by the blood, grime, and messiness of his job. It was all necessary, but it never ceased to irritate him.

His phone buzzed. He glanced at it, reading a message from one of his informants. A small smile crept onto his lips. Even though it was unpleasant, the information he had managed to get out of Aaron was priceless. It would keep him ahead in the never-ending struggle for supremacy within the mafia and tip the scales in his favor.

"Get me a new suit," he ordered. "And ensure there are no more loose ends."

"Right away, boss," his man replied, hurrying to comply.

Vincent stood there, shirtless, contemplating his next move. New tactics were constantly needed because the game was constantly changing. Even with all the chaos it involved, or maybe even more so, he was a master at it.

~~

Eloise bent forward at the snooker table, her attention fixed on the cue ball. She took a deep breath, lined up her shot, and fired. With a satisfying clunk, the ball sank into the pocket after sailing effortlessly over the green felt.

"Nice shot," one of her friends, Bella, said while sipping her drink.

"Thanks," Eloise replied with a grin. Her favorite game had always been snooker, which was odd for someone who seemed more interested in social gatherings and fashion.

Eloise's thoughts strayed to the earlier encounter in her father's office as she readied herself for her next shot. She looked up to see her friends, deep in conversation as they lounged around the exclusive gaming area.

"Can you believe the nerve of that guy?" she asked, her voice tinged with frustration. "The one who poured his drink on me at the club? He just showed up at my house Yesterday."

Her friends' attention snapped to her. "Wait, what? Who?" Bella asked, her interest piqued.

"Vincent Lucchese," Eloise uttered, her tongue puckering at the mention of the man. He had been introduced to her by her father, who also gave her his name and forewarned her not to see him again."He just walked into my dad's office like he owned it."

Bella's eyes got bigger. "No way. What did your dad say?"

Shaking her head, Eloise prepared for another shot. "He tried to play it cool, but you could tell he was on edge. And then Vincent dared to act all friendly with him. "It was extremely frustrating."

"He must be really important if your dad didn't kick him out," another friend, Lila, mused.

"Yeah, well, important or not, he's still an arrogant jerk," Eloise said, sinking another ball with a swift, precise strike.

As she stood up and stretched, she noticed her friends' expressions change. They were staring at something behind her, surprised and admiring.

"What?" Eloise asked, turning to see what had caught their attention.

Standing at the entrance of the private gaming room was Vincent Lucchese, his presence commanding and unmistakable. He walked toward them with a confident stride, his eyes locking onto Eloise's.

"We meet again, Miss Escobar," Vincent said, his voice smooth and mocking.

TBC