Married to the mafia King

AdrianoCopyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

Fuck the Agrellas.

The whole thing started when my father died a few months ago, and my older brother Dario became don of the Rosolini family.

A spy from another Cosa Nostra family had been nosing around our territory, so Dario put a hit out on him.

Our family’s enforcer Lars had taken care of the spy, but he hadn’t had the heart to kill the only witness: a waitress named Alessandra.

Dario had kidnapped her to find out why the spy had been in her cafe that night…

…but then my brother had fallen in love.

Now Dario and Alessandra were married.

Which I was happy about. I couldn’t’ve asked for a better sister-in-law.

But before the wedding, there had been an attempted hit on Alessandra and my brothers Massimo and Valentino while they were in Florence. That had been a month ago.

The hit was actually carried out by some pezzi di merda working for a guy named the Turk…

But it couldn’t have happened without the Agrellas’ permission.

They were a Cosa Nostra family who ran the back alleys of Florence, while my family controlled the judges, cops, and politicians in City Hall.

It was an uneasy alliance, but we’d made it work for 20 years.

And now the Agrellas had flushed it down the toilet.

They’d thrown their lot in with the Turk, thinking they could seize all of Florence after our family got slaughtered.

Think again, assholes.

We’d already killed the Turk.

The Agrellas were next, as far as I was concerned.

But now that they’d shot themselves in the dick, the Agrellas were whining like little bitches.

We didn’t know about the hit! We didn’t give our permission please oh please can’t we just TALK about it?

I would’ve loved to have shoved a gun in all their mouths and have them talk to that

But Dario didn’t want war.

After my father’s death, our family was weakened.

We’d split our territory with Uncle Fausto, who had been our father’s consigliere and right-hand man for 25 years…

And we’d just survived an attempt to wipe out our entire organization.

Me? I was all for going in guns blazing and wiping the Agrellas out

But Dario was the don.

So his word was my command.

As the newly appointed capo of the Rosolini family in Florence, I had a mission:

Talk with the Agrellas…

Try to maintain the peace…

And not start a war in Florence unless absolutely necessary.

Even though they’d violated a 20-year-old truce and given their blessing for a psychopath to try to kill my brothers and sister-in-law.

So, yeah.

Fuck the Agrellas.

‘Talking to the Agrellas’ was why I was in the backseat of a Mercedes on a Friday night, headed for some bullshit meeting where I knew they’d lie to my face.

And probably try to pick my pocket while they were at it.

Lars and Massimo were in the car with me. Massimo rode up front, Lars in the back with me. A foot soldier named Vincenzo was driving.

In fact, I had two other Mercedes driving with us to the meeting both filled with guys who worked for our family in Tuscany.

They were mostly coming as a show of force. Just in case the Agrellas started getting any ideas.

Fuck around and find out, assholes.

“You okay?” Massimo asked. He was looking at me in the mirror of his flipped-down sun visor.

Massimo was a giant so huge that his 6’7″ frame was cramped even with the seat let all the way back.

“Yeah, of course,” I answered.

“You got this, bro.”

“I know I got this,” I snapped.

Massimo held his tongue and flipped the sun visor back up.

I knew he was only trying to help, but the truth was…

I didn’t feel like I got this. I felt super fuckin’ nervous…

And I hated it.

I was the official head of the Rosolinis in Florence, and this was the first time I was acting as capo while meeting with another family.

A lot was riding on tonight.

If I got it right, things would go back to the way they were when my father was still alive: peace and profits for everybody.

If I screwed up…

War.

Although personally I was kind of hoping for war.

Which should have taken the pressure off…

But it didn’t.

‘Cause I knew if I failed Dario and the rest of the family, it was all on my head.

“What’s the plan?” Lars asked.

Lars was a Swede who’d been in jail with Dario and had saved his life a couple of times. When he got out of jail earlier than Dario, my brother told the family to give him a job. That’d been one of the best decisions Dario had ever made.

Lars had some kind of crazy background in Special Ops in the military in Sweden. He was the best I’d ever seen with a pistol and even deadlier with a sniper rifle.

When Dario had sent him with me to reestablish control in Florence, I’d breathed a sigh of relief. If shit hit the fan, Lars was the guy you wanted watching your back.

“The plan is to go in, listen to their spiel, and let bygones be bygones.”

“That’s Dario’s plan,” Lars said. “What’s your plan?”

I looked over at Lars. “You sayin’ I’m not gonna follow my don’s orders?”

Lars smirked. “I’m saying I know you. So what’s the plan?”

“Go in… listen to their spiel… and if they drop their shorts and bend over, let bygones be bygones. But if they’re assholes, then we tell them to go fuck themselves.”

Lars chuckled. “That sounds more like an Adriano plan.”

Massimo wasn’t on board. “Brother ”

“Don’t even start with me, Mass. YOU should be the one who wants to make them pay the most. I mean, they were the reason you got shot.”

It was true; Massimo had taken a bullet trying to protect Alessandra in the shootout.

“Exactly,” he said. “I’M the one who got shot, and I still think it’s better if we do everything we can to maintain the peace.”

What I wanted to say was FUCK the peace.

But I was a capo, not the don.

So all I said was, “Yeah, yeah…”

The Mercedes slowed down.

“We’re here, boss,” Vincenzo said.