Chapter 673 The Don Arrives
It took a little over an hour for Richard to read through the entire debrief report, along with Alex, to make sure everything was accurate. During which, he berated him a few times, saying his savage methods gave the cleaner crews for work than necessary.
But Alex kept his snarky remarks to himself, knowing it wouldn't amount to much, arguing with Richard.
Once they had gone over the reports together, Richard was about to dismiss Alexander when he thought about something else.
He pulled out an envelope from a drawer under his desk and threw it at Alex across the desk.
"Here. Take it. It was originally for Alfred and his men, since they were going to do the heavy lifting. But since you completed the op by yourself, it's only right that you get it. They can get the normal op bonus."
Alex frowned as he caught the envelope. It was heavy for such a small thing.
He was about to snap open the seal when Richard raised his hand.
"Not here, buffoon. Wait till you are at home. If people see you with that, questions will be asked, and I don't want to deal with that. Now go."
Alex pocketed the envelope in one of the uniform pockets and nodded his head.
"I'd say it was a pleasure doing business, but it wasn't. I hope this doesn't have to happen again, young man."
Alex scoffed. That was one point they agreed on.
Just as he turned, Richard called out to him once more.
"Oh! Wait. One more thing."
He got up from his desk and walked toward Alex, extending his hand out.
Alex went to grab the hand, expecting the man to want a handshake, but Richard's other hand instead cocked him in the jaw and he sprawled onto the ground.
Alex's face went dark, but seeing Richard's wide grin, he somehow knew this wasn't just for the fun of it.
"Now, we're even, you little shit," Richard declared, before walking back to his desk.
Alex seethed inside, wanting to tear him a new asshole. But he kept it in, knowing what the punch was for.
He quickly rose back to his feet and stomped his way to the elevator.
Richard waited for the distant ding, before grabbing his fist in his other hand.
"God dammit. What is his jaw made of? Concrete? Fuck… I think I have broken fingers…"
Alex cursed under his breath as the elevator took him back to the underground parking, where Alfred was waiting for him.
Alfred, seeing the light redness on the young man's cheek, chuckled to himself.
"He did say he was going to get you back, eventually. Looks like he tagged you pretty well, too. Anyway, I'm ready to drive you back home. Let's go."
Alex ignored the comment about his face, and climbed into the back of the black sedan, as Alfred closed the door behind him, chuckling to himself.
The drive back was quiet, as Alex was still processing his day, as well as the sucker punch he took from Richard. But by the time they reached his building, he had calmed down.
He was ready to go on with his life, ignoring today's events as much as his brain would allow it. It was a sort of coping mechanism for him.
Alfred bid him farewell before driving off, and Alexander looked at the building, wondering how Kary would react to him suddenly coming back with different clothes on.
'She's probably going to scold me…' he assumed.
But there was no going around the matter. At least he was unscathed.
He had kept that one promise of coming back unharmed, at least physically. So that should attenuate her wrath.
'I'll just relax for the rest of the day. I'm beat,' he said to himself, as he walked toward the building entrance.
***
Far away from Montreal, in southwestern Europe, in the country of Italy, another meeting was being held.
In an estate along the coast of Tuscany, nine men were seated around an outdoor table that overlooked a large vineyard down below.
One seat was empty, at the center of the table, on the left side, and the old men were discussing it in low tones.
"Did you hear? I heard Francesco took over the family on the east coast of Canada, and he began dragging the name in the mud," an old bald guy said.
The guy across the table from him, with slick black hair that was quite obviously dyed, but no one said anything about it, replied to him.
"I heard he overthrew the old bastard because he was sick. And since then, he's been acting like he runs shit."
A few seats down to his right, another old man looked at them and scoffed.
"We all knew Francesco was a little shit. Only his father Roberto held any love for that rascal. He always assumed he could bend him until he acted the part of his bloodline."
A few silent laughs echoed around the table, the old men all agreeing with that statement.
One of them asked a crucial question that broke the laughter.
"Whose gonna replace the Bianchis at the table, now that they are dead?"
Silence permeated the table as they all wondered what family could fill in the spot. There were a few smaller families under each of them that fit the bill.
All of them hoped the don would pick one of their subfamilies, allowing them to have a louder voice at the table. It was a golden opportunity to one-up the others.
Even if they were part of the organization, none of them deluded themselves into thinking they were steadfast allies. The crime world did not work that way.
The discussion suddenly came to a halt, as a crystalline bell was rung. A man walked over to the table, sitting in the empty seat at its tip.
His slicked-back black hair shone in the sunlight as he looked at every one of the men around him.
"I think we all know why I called this meeting today. So let us get to it, shall we?" he said, blinking his eyes slowly.
"Yes, Don Romano!" the men cried out.
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