Page 2 of Owned By the Mafia

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Page 2 of Owned By the Mafia

The worst part is that this is the first time the Italians are technically working with the Russians like this. Although the families were joined, they kept their security separated, so I don’t know why Ronan agreed to do this.

Just for Daniel?

So he could get married and have a kid?

God, I never want children.

I hear the shouting from the street level already, but I don’t quicken my pace. There’s no need. They’ll still be arguing by the time I get there. I recognize the one voice; it’s Aiden. He’s my second in command when I’m not around, and from the sounds of it, he’s having a real go at an Italian guard.

The elevator opens, and I step out. The shouting is louder here, and you can barely make out words as they are shouting at the same time.

I pass a group of Russian men sitting around a small table, smoking and laughing at the noise coming from the main boardroom.

I give them a disdainful look before I slam the boardroom door open and look around.

Aidan and the Italian stop shouting to look at me. The slamming door startled them out of their fight, which is probably good because their faces are inches apart.

“You two should kiss and call it a night,” I comment. I take out my cigarettes and light one, going to sit at the top end of the boardroom table.

“This idiot…” Aiden’s voice is still raised, and I slam a hand flat on the table.

“I should shoot you both and save myself future childish arguments. Neither of you is the boss here. I am.” I look at Aidan, who inclines his head, then at the Italian. He seems familiar, but I can’t quite remember his name. His face is still filled with anger.

“You are not my boss, and you never will be.” He spits on the floor in my direction, snaps something in Italian at Aidan, and storms out.

Aidan turns to look at me with his hands up. “Boss, the guys won’t listen. I’m just trying to tell them where they’re needed.” He lights a cigarette and inhales deeply, exhaling loudly.

I look out the window and flick my cigarette ash onto the little ashtray on the table. “Think they’re better than us; that’s the problem.”

Aidan sits beside me and pulls a folder toward himself. “Well, let me tell you where I’ve got everyone then.”

I listen as he outlays the plans for various jobs that we have going on this week, and the time goes by quite quickly. My phone starts buzzing on the table while I light my third cigarette.

“It’s Dominic Sorvino.” Aidan looks at me.

I sigh and pick up the phone. “Mr Sor…”

He instantly starts tearing me a new one without hesitation.

“Who the fuck do you think you are to talk to our men as dogs? You’re paid to manage their schedules, not order them around like they’re your fucking slaves, Quinn.”

I glance at Aidan as I respond. “It’s difficult to manage their schedules when they listen as well as a fucking brick wall.”

This sets him off worse, and after a stream of what I assume are Italian cuss words, he screams over the phone, “You are so low on the fucking pecking order. Learn some fucking respect. You do as I tell you, not the other fucking way. You want my men’s respect, fucking earn it. They say you treat them like shit all the time and act as though they can’t string a sentence together.”

“Not an English one, at least,” I snap back.

“You fucking punk, I should have you dragged and beaten for your insolence. Do your fucking job.”

He hangs up on me, and I set the phone down and look at my best friend. “Give it ten minutes, and my brother will be on the line.”

We sit in silence, not bothering to continue because it’s inevitable.

The little Irish jig that is my brother's ringtone starts playing, and his face flashes across the screen under the name Bigger Brother.

“I can’t work with them,” I say immediately as I answer the phone before Ronan can get a word in. “These fucking Italian and Russian assholes don’t listen, Ronan. I can’t direct people who won’t follow orders.”

“Don’t you fucking talk shit to me, Robbie. You’ve made your feelings on the new guys clear as fucking day, and I’ve heard how you speak to them. You get your fucking act together and make this fucking work, or you won’t have any more work within this family. Do you hear me?”




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