MAFIA

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Chapter 9 • Dean Genovese

She stood in a long corridor. The floor was covered in red carpet that had a red carpet on the floor and the walls were a chestnut shade of brown. She looked up and saw three chandeliers dangling from the ceiling. And right where the final chandelier hung, there was a double black door under it that had both doors thrown open.

Isabel approached the open doors, that looked like an invitation to her.

The whole scene before her eyes reminded her of a movie.

There were a few people here and there, and they seemed to be working.

There was two floors. The top had a balcony going all half way around, and stopped at this large, tinted black mirror. There were chandeliers handing down from the ceiling with a disco ball in the centre. On the lower floor there were seats and tables. There was a DJ stand just under the large mirror, and a bar table with a wall of different liquors.

She stopped still for a second, taking in everything as she looked around the place. And then, "Isabel."

Isabel turned around and saw Elisa walking down from the second floor. She had one hand in her pocket and the other held the toothpick to her lips. "So," she began. "How do you fancy?"

Isabel smiled, as she looked around the place once more. "This is the best thing you've done," she said. "When's the opening?"

Elisa walked to the bar and grabbed two glasses, pouring whiskey in one and Coca Cola in the other which she moved across the mirror-like surface towards Isabel. "Tonight," she replied, and took a sip from her drink.

Isabel nodded as she too took a sip from her drink, and just then her phone began to ring. She pulled it out from her back pocket and sighed. "Duty calls."


She sat at an empty table alone, checking the menu. The smell of cooking filled her nostrils and the sound of chatter and cars driving was all she could hear. This was a restaurant/cabstand that Alessio, Lazzeri and Vincenzi had put together when they were youngsters as a starter business to prove that they were just as capable of leading something as well.

The restaurant/cabstand was filled with silk suits in the morning and would drape the fenders of their cars with handkerchiefs before leaning back for a talk. They double-parked their cars and never got tickets, even when they parked smack in front of a fire hydrant and all night they played card games.

"Ehy, Isabel!!" Paolo smiled, as he threw the kitchen towel over his left shoulder. Paolo had a thick New York accent and was a short and cubby man. He had an olive complexion with brown eyes and black hair that was combed back. Paolo was also the chef at the restaurant/cabstand and partly in charge of the place.

"Do you want me to make you somethin' to eat, or wha'?" He asked. Isabel opened her mouth to speak, but the bell rang just as the door opened, letting the people inside know that a customer has entered.

A young man, tall and slim entered though the front door, and the way he held himself made him incredibly intimidating. His jet black hair fell in his eyes, but you could still see is handsome features. He had a fair complexion and a strong jawline. He wore a black, three piece suit with a green bow tie. He had rings on his fingers and his blazer sat on his shoulders. The tapping of his boots made a few people look sideways at him as though they were afraid to look him in case he caught them staring.

This was Dean Genovese, Alessio's newest recruit. Dean come to Alessio one night in a bar.


••• Flashback •••


2017, December 20th

The jazz music was muffled by the walls of the lounge. The singer, Ruby and the band were making sure everything was fine with the microphone and the speakers so there were no complications later on.

The bar was opening in half an hour and Alessio was just about to head out to pick up his wife for dinner when he was stopped by someone calling after him. He turned around and saw that a young man, no older then his son stood in the middle of the room.

"Mr. Aditori," Dean greeted their man with confidence. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Alessio looked at his men, wondering how this youngster managed to get inside the bar when it wasn't even open for customers. "I don't know who you are, or how you got in kid," he said. "But the bar isn't opening for another half hour, so I'll have my men escort you—"

A soft laugh escaped Dean's lips and that caught Alessio's attention. No one— young or old scoffed, laugh or done anything of the kind to a made man. If you did then had a few minutes left to live. Alessio held back from doing anything himself, so he turned to his men and immediately they knew what to do, but before he had the chance to move from his stop, Dean spoke once again.

"How are things in the big city?" The way he spoke those words made Alessio arched his brow upwards and looked at Dean with an amusing expression. He heard that there was a new shot in town that went around causing trouble.

"So you're the new player causing all that trouble?" He began, and Dean smirked. "No one told me it was halloween."

This made Dean chuckle. "Well, it's more like Christmas. But you see, I have come with a proposition. I've seen how you run your empire, and I'm impressed, but there's room for improvement."

Alessio crossed his arms over his chest and the amusing expression on his face only grew at the confidence this young man had. "Is that so?"

There was a short moment of silence as Dean tucked a hand in his pocket. "I'd like to offer my service."

Alessio laughed before speaking. "I got a better idea," he said. "How 'bout I show you how business is done in my town?"

Dean sighed and shrug his leather jacket off as the three men walked from behind Alessio. He watched their steps and movements, making sure not to act too soon or too late. Just as one of them was about to reach for him, he threw his leather jacket in his face and that made him stumble a few steps backwards.

He was now left with two.

He dodged few swings from the tall dark man, before grabbing his arm and twisting it behind his back. The man cried in pain and Dean punched him in the nose and released him.

Just as the last man raised his fist, Dean pulled out his gun and held it to his head. The sound of a pin hitting the ground would've been heard in that moment. Alessio, like everyone was taken aback by this young man.

"You've probably surmised that I'm not from around here," he said.

"What do you want, kid?" Asked Alessio.

"To help—" Dean looked at the man held at gunpoint and asked him. "I thought I made— did I not make that perfectly clear?" He sighed and turned back to Alessio. "New enemies are coming to New York, and they will endanger your enterprises."

"And you're saying you can help me out?" Dean didn't speak, as he tilted his head slight to the side. The silence in the bar have Alessio time to think about what he wanted to do with this kid. He seemed like he was pulling his strings, but also like he knew his way around words. How to handle a situation without any backup. How to win things over...and that was something he needed, besides just lawyers and politicians in his pocket.

"What's your name, kid?" Alessio broke the silence.

"Dean Genovese, sir."


••• End Of Flashback •••


He stopped walking and joined Isabel at her booth. He lifted his head and immediately the locks that covered his eyes moved smoothly, revealing them. Isabel had never seen eyes like his. They appeared blue with a hint of yellow at first, but then changed to this green-silvery-grey colour. Brilliant and bright. Silver like the raging sea before the first ray of light touched its waves, silver like the shackles that bind you.

They sat in silence for a moment. Dean tilted his head to the side and leaned back against the leather bench. He heard of Alessio's recently found daughter, but he didn't expect her to look like this. Her long, dark, brown hair that was parted down the middle, she had these beautiful hazel eyes with a wing liner that looked sharp enough to cut someone. She had a porcelain-like face with tinted cheeks and blood red lips. She wore black jeans, with suspenders, a white blouse and black boots.

"So," Isabel broke the silence. "Should we eat first, or should we get going?"

To say that he was not expecting a British accent would be an understatement. "You're British," he stated more than a question.

Isabel exhaled a soft laugh as she stood up. "Let's go."


They stood in one of New York's unsafest and darkest streets. The smell of alcohol and drugs lived in the air. People walked in and out from the corner shops, there were woman dressed in clothes that barely covered anything and they stood around either like they were mannequins, or talked to the men in the cars. Some had trouble standing on their feet and had to lean against the walls or street lamps for support.

Dean watched Isabel from the corner of his eye. No one spoke of what Alessio's daughter looked like or that she was British, only that he had a long lost child somewhere. So to say that he was surprised would be an understatement.

He opened his mouth to start a conversation with her, but she smacked his chest with her hand just as she spotted a man with brown eyes a like the autumn leaves, fair skin and dirty blonde hair like the sand exiting a corner shop. This was Logan Blaze, someone who worked for an anonymous big shot.

"That's him," she said, without as so much looking at Dean.

Logan strolled down the street, greeting a few men who were his friends and also some of the girls that worked the streets. As he came to an alleyway, Isabel and Dean both slowed down their pace.

It was quite and only a few Street lamps were lit up, and they weren't doing a very good job. As he began to reach closer to the end of the alleyway, Dean, with his hands in his pockets appeared from around the corner and stood in front of him, blocking his way out. Logan stopped in his tracks, stood still for a moment before he turned to walked back the way he came from, but Isabel blocked his path.

He was trapped.

"Blaze, is it?" Isabel asked, as she approached the man. Logan took a few steps back and bumped into Dean's strong chest. "Heard your boss is looking for business in New York, am I right?"

Logan looked at both Isabel and Dean, trying to come up with an escape plan. "You seem nervous," said Isabel, as she observed the man. Logan looked at her and swallowed. Dean could see the slight drips of sweat on Logan's temples and that he was trying to calm himself down.

Before Isabel had the chance to speak again, the man broke into a sprint, but didn't get far. Isabel caught the back of his shirt with an iron grip and pulled him back so hard that when she almost ripped the shirt off of him. She released him and Dean held him down on his knees. He attempted to fight back and get up, but Dean swung his first at him and watched as he fell backwards. He spat blood onto the ground and Dean placed his foot on Logan's chest to stop him from getting up.

Isabel kneeled down next to Logan. "Like I was saying," she began. "I heard that your boss is looking for business in New York, correct?"

Logan's eyes shifted from Isabel to Dean, and then back. He kept his mouth shut, and this made Isabel exhale a laugh. She pinched the bridge of her nose before grabbing a fist full of his hair in her palm. The man winched. "Didn't you hear I have a bad temper?" she spoke softly.

"Alright!" Logan shouted.

Isabel smiled, but didn't release his hair just yet. "I'm all ears."

Logan chocked and winched, making Isabel rolled her eyes and exhale a sigh. She released his hair and stood up as Dean took his foot off his chest.

"Packages."

Isabel's head tilted to the side as she looked at the man with a confused expression. "Packages?" She repeated. "Packages of what?" The man didn't answer her, but looked at Dean as if he was afraid he'd make a move.

"They are to be moved in by the end of this week," he said, as his narrowed his eyes fro Dean to Isabel.

Isabel inhaled heavily. "And what do these packages contain?" She asked. "Money? Jewels? D—"

"I don't know—"

Isabel raised her tone. "Do you expect me to believe that?" Isabel arched a brow. "Do I look stupid to you?"

Logan looked down at his hands and then back up to meet Isabel's eyes. He's expression hardened as he spoke through his teeth. . "I'd be dead anyway." She couldn't take it anymore. She knew men like Logan; stubborn, heard headed, time wasting— this man wasn't going to give her anything other than what she already had. And there was no time to waste.

Dean stood next to Isabel and sent her a look that said, this-is-going-to-be-a-long-night.

She raised her index finger to her lips. "Shh," she nodded, and Logan looked at her in silence. "Fine, your choice." She swung her hand behind her back, pulling her shinny gun out. Dean's eyes widened in shock. He reached his hand out to lower her arm, but she was too quick. She held the gun to Logan's forehead and pulled the trigger without a second thought.

BANG!

The sound played music in the air.

Isabel watched as the man fell backwards, his corpse laying motionless one the ground as blood poured around him like a puddle from rain.

"Are you crazy?"

The sudden tone in Dean's voice caught her off guard. She turned on her heel and look up at him. "What do you want to do?" She asked sarcastically. "Let him for or something?"

"We could've gotten more out of em'," said Dean as his eyes shifted from Isabel to the corpse.

"Fuck that," Isabel shook her head. "He wouldn't have said nothing. These bastards are tough." Dean exhaled a sigh, his eyes still fixed on Logan. Isabel tucked her gun behind her back before she rolled her sleeves up and threw her long hair on her back.

"We need to make this quick," she said.

Dean looked at her confused. "What are—"

"Do you want to leave the the body out in the open?" She asked him. Dean didn't answer and kept his mouth closed. "That's what I thought."


After taking Logan outside of town where they met with Mason and Bruno who were to take case of body, Isabel and Dean drove back to the city.

The cabstand had cars being parked outside by kids no older than fourteen—fifteen, while the adults sat and made jokes.

“Isabel, want me to park the car?” A young boy, with a mop of sandy blond hair and blue eyes asked. This was Ollie, Isabel ran into him a few months ago and help him off the streets.

Isabel smiled and entered the restaurant while greeting a few people on the way.

Dean turned to the boy and locked eyes with him for a moment. “Look after her,” he motioned to his car, before he tossed the car keys to Ollie.

The restaurant didn’t have any customers, and the sound of classic music played from the radio speakers softly. Isabel pulled out a stool from the counter and sat down. “Paolo,” she called out. “You here?”

Just as Paolo walked out from the kitchen, the door opened once again and in walked Dean. “Why did we come here?” He asked Isabel. “Will your father be coming by—“

“We report tomorrow,” Isabel waved her hand, as though she was brushing the air away. “But now, I’m hungry.” Dean looked at Paolo who chuckled at what she said. “Can I get a burger, large chips and a large coke, please” she said her order, before she turned to Dean. “And what are you having?”

Dean stood still like a statue. Confusion was written all over his face. He had never met a person like this before.

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