Page 2 of Isle of Seduction
If there’s anything to be bought in this town, you can come to me and I’ll make sure you get it.
What I’m after now is influence and a place within the high society of West Hill. They still see me as a vermin, even though they use my services every single day of the year, be it legal or not.
If I want to expand the Capaldi Empire and leave a legacy behind, I need to be elected into the City Council next May. It’s only eight months away and I need the backing of the Mayor and his partisans.
“Andrea… Can I call you Andrea?” he starts, coddling and patronising.
“No.”
He clears his throat and adjusts his tie.
“Mr. Capaldi. Let me be frank here. As much as you are doing good for the people of West Hill, I fear your profile isn’t compatible with the needs of our community.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
I’ve built playgrounds at half the cost any other company would have to guarantee the poorer kids can be children and play. I’m paying an actual living wage for all employees in my corporation and support the right to strike. I already campaign for access to culture and education.
I’m a community man, first and foremost. The Capaldis might have been criminals in the past, but we’ve done nothing but serve others ever since our long-term goal changed. The blood on our hands doesn’t change that.
“Please, Mr. Capaldi, don’t be coy. You know your father’s reputation.”
“Is it really just because my father went to prison? Are you blaming a man for his father’s crimes? Which he paid to society through his sentence, by the way,” I say, patience wearing thin.
“I don’t fault you for your father’s history, but others might.”
My tightened fists whiten to the point of pain, anchoring me and preventing me from swinging it in his smug face.
“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Lewis. If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even be in your seat right now. Don’t fucking forget it.”
“That’s exactly what I’m talking about,” he complains. “Even if you’re not your father, you’re still your father’s son. That temper of yours will be your downfall.”
I take a deep breath, vowing to go hit some poor fucker at the boxing ring straight after this shitshow of a meeting. I’ll visualise Mayor Lewis’s face as I obliterate my opponent.
Unfortunately, he’s right. I can’t be a temperamental fuck when dealing with politicians, nor resort to blackmail. Shit like this always comes out to the press and I don’t need that stain on my less than stellar reputation.
Bringing my fingers to my temples, I massage the migraine he’s giving me away. I need to switch tactics.
“What would you have me do?”
It takes all my strength to lower myself to begging, but the end goal is more important.
The Mayor leans back into his antique baroque chair that looks a little too close to a throne. He thinks he has me cornered and I’ll be grateful for any piece of advice, like a pygmalion with his creation.
“I like you, Capaldi. You might not be the most obvious candidate for this job, nor have the pedigree I require from my associates, but you have grit.”
And resources, I think quietly. I grind my teeth together. Speaking out of turn won’t get me anywhere, so I keep my mouth shut, but fuck, it costs me.
Lewis continues his spiel. “It would certainly be an asset to have you on the Council, but I fear you need to polish your image to fit in with who we want the good people of West Hill to be represented by.”
“And that is?”
“A wife.”
The word is like a slap in the face.
“A wife?” I repeat, incredulous.
“Yes, Mr. Capaldi. A wife. You see, all our councilmen and councilwomen are family people, representing all fringes of our society and all sexualities. They represent safety and stability. They provide for West Hill as if they are members of the family we’re all a part of. And you are not exactly a family man.”