Indebted to the Mafia King

Tony

I get to Cal's casino bar in record time. I hate when he is enigmatic in text messages, but since our businesses have to be kept in the dark, I can't blame him for not telling me right away what the problem is. The urgency in his words made my skin crawl, but I have no idea what to expect when I walk into his bar.

His guys gesture for me toward the basement, a place I have been only twice ever since I met him. Both times weren't for nice businesses. That's where he deals with dirty shit, in all senses of the word. My stomach is twisting as my footsteps echo through the empty, sultry hallways. I bump into a few other men who seem to be guarding the place, and that only makes me anticipate even more what I am about to find.

When I reach the last door to my left, I encounter a scene that isn't at all unfamiliar to me. A young man who seems to be in his early thirties is tied to a metal chair, his arms and legs wrapped with tight ropes. The room is dark, but I can see his face is swollen and bloody, his sweaty hair falling over his eyes. His clothes are torn and his breathing is heavy, as if he has been beaten up recently. I clench my jaw as I take in the scene, feeling uneasy for not recognizing the man. I can only imagine he might be one of Mateo's men, otherwise Cal wouldn't have called me here.

There are two of Cal's bodyguards watching the guy in the chair, but only when I get inside the room, Cal walks out of another door to my left, cleaning his bloody knuckles with a ragged towel. He looks up at me and nods, his eyes dark with malice.

"Hey, lad. Sorry I couldn't wait for ye, I was kinda bored," he tells me with a smirk on his lips.

Then he turns to the young man, kicking the chair hard and making it move a few inches backward. The guy groans in pain, probably from a broken rib or something. He looks pretty beaten, but I can't tell how bad the internal damage is. "Care to repeat to me boy over here what ye told me?" Cal taunts in a provocative tone. His accent is thicker than normal, and I assume he must be trying to use it to intimidate the guy.

But apparently it's not working. The young man spits on the floor, too close to Cal's feet. Bad move.

Cal sneers and, in a swift movement, punches the guy in the gut. He contorts and bends forward, grunting in pain. I don't tear my eyes away from the scene, even though I still have no clue what the guy has done to deserve such punishment. I can only trust Cal and assume he is doing the right thing. If this man is responsible for scaring Chloe, or feeding information about her to Mateo, he will feel much worse when I take the lead.

"Just spill it," Cal snarls, preparing for another punch. But I grab his fist in the air, pulling him away from the young man who seems about to faint. I have no time for this shit show. I just need to know what the hell is going on. "It's all right, man. Just tell me yourself what he told you," I press, the taste of blood strong in my tongue.

Cal darts a deathly glance to the guy before turning to face me. "He said a few lads are in New York searchin' for the baby," he begins. "The feckin' bastard put a target on your woman and said she can be killed on the spot. But he wants the little lass."

I clench my fists this time, struggling to keep myself at bay. I swear to God I'll kill this motherfucker before he has the chance to give me more information. It terrifies me to know this is Mateo's plan. I never thought he wouldn't want Chloe and would want Ellie instead-not to use her as bait to lure Chloe, but to just keep her? It makes no sense.

This freaks me out even more. I can't imagine an innocent baby like Ellie in the hands of a devil like Mateo. It had scared the shit out of me to imagine Chloe being in his claws, but Ellie...

A low growl escapes my throat and I turn to the young man who seems horrified as he stares at me.

"What else did he order you to do?" I ask in a low snarl. My vision is reddened, and blood is all I can think about. I know this guy isn't directly responsible for the nightmare Chloe is living in-or me, for that matter-but he is doing what his boss told him to, and if he had any qualms or principles, he'd know women and children are off limits.

And because he doesn't, I grab the gun from Cal's belt and aim at the guy in the chair, not waiting to see his reaction. I pull the trigger, the loud noise deafening me momentarily. The blood in his dirty gray shirt starts spreading as his wound starts to bleed out, but he is gone already. I made sure to aim for his heart, not giving him a chance to regret his doings.

I hope Mateo gets the message. I am not to be messed with. And if he thinks he can touch Chloe or Ellie, he has another thing coming his way.

I will make sure to send him back to Hell, from where he should never have left.

"Ah, lad, you ruined my fun," Cal complains from beside me.

I turn to him and hand him back the gun. He takes it with a smirk on his face, holsting it back to his belt. Then I reach for my pocket and take a pile of cash neatly arranged and give it to him.

"Thank you for your help. And please keep an eye open for anything that might help us get to Mateo. The motherfucker is too close to home."

Cal nods, taking the money and handing it to one of his bodyguards.

"I don't want any trouble with the feckin' De La Cruz, but I don't want them sniffin' around my business either."

"Them coming here is bad for everyone, not just the Saints," I tell him firmly. "I don't fucking mind if he wants war, but he is not coming anywhere near my wife and kid. I'll kill every single one of them myself if I have to. And whoever is not on my side, will be against me," I warn.

Cal is a long time friend now, not to mention my ally, but if he is second guessing his choices, I just made sure he thinks it through before he decides to act against me. "Don't worry, lad. I'd never turn my back on ye," he affirms.

I give him another nod before heading out of his basement. This place is claustrophobic as fuck. Or maybe I'm just too worked up. My hands are trembling slightly as I head for my car. My mind is trying to force on me images of Chloe and Ellie being murdered at home. What if Mateo sent the guy I just killed as bait, so he could have the house clear of me to get to Chloe and Ellie? I have soldiers there to protect them, but they are not immortal. If Mateo ambushed them, I don't even want to imagine what could happen.

I step on the gas as I drive back to Staten Island, not stopping at any sign on the way. I don't mind how many fucking tickets I'll have to get rid of later, but I need to get home as soon as possible.

The idea of finding Chloe's body on my floor, and Ellie missing, has me sweating and feeling like I am about to vomit. My knuckles are white from gripping the steering wheel too hard, and my throat is dry. I don't want to think about these fucking things, but I can't help myself either.

The tires screech as I pull into my driveway half an hour later, barely parking the vehicle before jumping out of it and heading for the house.

"Chloe!" I yell from the door as I struggle to type the password. I spot a few soldiers from my peripheral vision, and they seem well enough on their feet, but my brain can't seem to comprehend that. I need to see her with my own eyes. "Chloe!" I repeat, finally walking inside and slamming the door behind me.

I head for the kitchen, noticing the lights are on. My heart almost falls out of my mouth when I get to the door and find Chloe by the stove, cooking up something for dinner. She is looking at me with widened eyes, her cheeks pink and her smooth, blonde hair cascading behind her back. She has this short, blue dress on, her thighs at full disclosure, looking as sweet and hot as ever.

"Fuck...thank God!" I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Tony? Is everything okay? What happened? You seem like you have just seen a ghost," she points out with her soft voice. It sounds like an angel singing. My entire body feels light as I force my legs to move forward, in her direction. Before any other word spills out of her mouth, I wrap one hand around her waist, pulling her toward me, and claiming her lips with mine, desperate to feel her.