Caught:A Dark Mafia Romance
By: Piper Stone
Jagger
Bloodshed. Death. Destruction.
This was my family’s legacy and nothing I want to have anything to do with. Try telling that to my father, the patriarch; formidable and considered one of the most dangerous men in America. I used to adore him when I was a kid, following him around as if he were a rock star, my hero. Then I found out the truth.
He’s nothing but a monster, although his age and unscrupulous ways have taken a toll on his kingdom as well as his family. And I’m his son; well, one of two. My brother, Giovanni is several years older, a catch to the ladies, the next in line for the Chicago throne. And I couldn’t care less.
Montego Calduchi is the preordained crime boss of Chicago, his ruthless and brutal activities considered legendary, even among the other crime syndicate families. He rules with an iron fist, preferring to cut a man down versus hear any excuse.
There are dozens if not hundreds of people who would stop at nothing to butcher my father and if you grilled me, I’d have to say I might be on that list. The trouble with power is that everyone else wants a piece of it. Given the New York crime syndicate was muscling in, the Chicago boys had determined that their brand of viciousness meant they should be top dog. There was also concern about the various wannabes from Jersey to Philadelphia, so I’d say my father’s days are numbered.
Good riddance.
And me? Well, I’d guess my days are numbered too, if my brother has anything to say about it. I rubbed my eyes, snickering at my lapse of judgment. I should have taken my college education and slipped out of the country when I’d had the chance. Sadly, the perks of the ‘industry,’ if you can call racketeering and extortion any kind of profession, were far too much of a draw. Within months, I was following in my father’s footsteps until I’d had enough. So, here I am. Considered the bad boy of the Calduchi family.
Only I don’t call him my father any longer, at least not to his face. I lost that kind of respect during the last pseudo war occurring on the Chicago streets.
I’m used to having all the perks of a rich man. You know what I’m talking about: fast cars, even faster boats, and the kind of women who can make a cock hard in a single glance. I’ve had three hot babes hanging on my arms for various black-tie events, the envy of every red-blooded male. Slinky red dresses with slits just below their perfectly coiffed cunts. Cleavage low enough that almost any movement created gasps from other more conservative guests. And every one of the ladies with bodies to kill. You know the drill. Every man’s fantasy. All for the sake of a thrill.
Yeah, pretty damn hot. The issue? I’m always bored as fuck. Nothing ever changes. Maybe the lack of conversation or intelligence in my particular choices had finally taken a toll. I wanted more out of life. Great. Now, I sounded like all the rest of the dumb assholes I’d graduated with. Some were perfect students, trying their best to make a difference in this jaded world. Then there were my friends, the kind of boys you warned your little girls about. We went to Princeton. The finest education money and threats could buy. What fine upstanding gentlemen. I couldn’t help but chortle at the thought. We’d taken debauchery to an entirely ridiculous level, but none of us had any fear of retribution, or concern about finances either.
That was because no one dared touch us for fear of retaliation. One phone call from our respective fathers and the local morgue would have filled to capacity.
And not a single person would have opened their mouth.
So, we were nothing but bastards, savoring the spoils of our positions. Only six years later and my old college buddies were living exactly the lifestyle we’d sworn we’d never succumb to. Three were married with kids and the other two were well on their way. I was the last remaining hope for remaining unattached.
I pushed the latest financials across my desk and leaned back in the chair, swiveling from side to side. Bishop Enterprises was doing well, despite the difficulty acquiring other companies and the tough economy. In two short years since my takeover, I’ve been labeled a success. I’m also feared among my peers, my presence at any business meeting or local event tolerated at best.
