I am what I am, fuck everyone else.
I truly believe that Valentino would have always had this life, he thrives on the power, the adrenaline, the women, the money, chasing the kill.
He was made for this role in life, the cocaine king of Italy.
With Carlo running the brawn and Valentino running the blow, we can’t lose.
Carlo shuffles over and Valentino and Alex fall into the seat beside me, Val takes out a cigar and puts it between his teeth, he smiles darkly up at the naked woman on stage as he lights it up. “Is she new?” he asks before blowing a thin stream of smoke in the air.
I shrug as my gaze turns toward her, she has long blond hair and a body to die for. Curvy and fuckable. “No idea.” I raise my finger and the scantily dressed waitress appears. “Another round, please.”
“Of course, sir.” She smiles with a nod before disappearing.
We’re in the Viper club, we own this establishment. A bar with live shows and exotic guests, high-end girls are entertaining men upstairs and the place is filled with Ferrara men. This is our turf.
We are safe here, protected.
Val answers his phone, he listens and then frowns. “What do you mean?” He inhales his cigar as he listens and then narrows his eyes. “Since when?” His eyes flick to me and he gives a subtle shake of his head. “Send out a chopper.” He listens again. “And what happened?” He exhales heavily. “Keep me informed.” He hangs up and leans into me, I put my ear to his mouth. “The yacht is missing.”
My eyes meet his, “What time was it due in?”
“Two p.m. this afternoon. They’ve made no contact and their tracking device has just been switched off.”
I glance at my watch, Ten p.m.
Fuck.
I tip my head back and drain my scotch.
Val glares at me as he inhales his cigar, he leans over and whispers the same thing to Carlo and he clenches his jaw before muttering the words, “Someone’s going to fucking die.”
* * *
Early morning and the office is abuzz with drama.
Our yacht filled with the blow is missing, there’s been no contact since one p.m. yesterday when it was on track to land at our port. The satellite tracking was turned off about an hour from port yesterday and since then the chopper was unable to trace it. The only explanation could be that the tracking device was switched to another vessel, which traveled the course to throw us off the scent.
It could be fucking anywhere.
A twenty-million-dollar superyacht doesn’t go missing by itself and it could mean only one of two things.
The crew are dead and someone else has our eighty million worth of blow…and our yacht. Or the crew are the ones who stole it and are prepared to live with a death wish.
Either way it’s a fucking nightmare and something we’ve never encountered before.
Val is staring at the satellite-tracking map to see where and when this could have happened.
Lorenzo is sending men to all of the crew’s homes and family to put them under surveillance, check for any inconsistencies. If the crew have revolted and do have it, someone will return home for their girl, they always do.
My phone rings.
Nicolai
“Here we go.” I click my fingers to get Val’s attention and he jumps up and closes the office door. I put the phone on speaker and answer, “Nicolai.”
“Giuliano. How are you my friend?”
I lean back and swing on my chair, speaking with the chief of police is always a pleasure. “Good, good. What have you got for me?”
“The word is that one of your men is on Lombardi’s payroll.”
My eyes meet Carlo’s and he narrows his eyes in contempt.
“Who?” I ask.
“I don’t know, there’s talk they’re about to come into some serious blow. Big time from what I hear.”
“Interesting,” I reply.
Carlo and I glare at each other.
My phone lights up as another call comes in and I immediately hit decline.
“Where are they getting this…blow?” I ask.
“I believe a yacht was hijacked two days ago as it left Columbia. The tracking device was put into a dummy ship which stayed on course to throw them off the scent.”
“I see.”
He has information, he’s fishing for funds.
Val scribbles a note on the paper to tell me what to offer.
Ten million for whereabouts of yacht: Ten million for traitor’s name.
I screw up my face and shake my head, “Too much,” I mouth.
He scribbles on the paper again.
If we don’t get a name,
We’re fucked!!
I swing on my chair as I contemplate my offer, fuck.
Val is right, we need answers.
This is a problem that won’t go away until it’s taken care of. If we have a traitor, we need to take care of it now.
“Find my yacht and we’ll deliver ten million,” I say.
“Nice,” Nicolai replies.
“Give me a name and you’ll receive another ten.”