he carried. Lorenzo expected
to spend the last day of a fucked up year alone. And it suited him
just fine. This is what he’d come to accept year after year since
his ill-tempered mother Isabella died. However, today he had a
cause. Unfinished business to attend to with David Capriccio before
the city of Milan, exploded with lights and good cheer. With the
wedding tomorrow, Lorenzo would have to be quick about things. He
still needed to call in the final details for the festivities.
Mostly, his concerns were the logistics, security, and payoffs to
officials to grant Giovanni complete access to anywhere in the
southern region he chose. It was times like this he missed
Dominic’s role as consigliere . Who wanted to be stuck
with this menial bullshit?
The brisk weather forced him to hang a heavy
dark wool coat over his broad shoulders. It was often an unwelcome
occurrence when the drastic change in climate between the northern
and southern townships came down upon him. Shoving his hands down
in the pockets of his trousers, he continued on. He walked a block
up torturing twisting alleys to the business offices tucked between via Porlezza and via Giulini . Several people dined
outside of sweet smelling cafes, nibbling on pastries. Others
lingered for morning chats over cigarettes and small cups of
espresso. He knew a few, but many knew him, and nodded in respect
at his passing.
The walk was short. Lorenzo entered Negali’s
building and took the elevator to his floor. The building felt
unoccupied. He shed his coat and dropped it in the chair near the
door when he walked inside. A quick check of his watch confirmed he
was early. Since Negali rarely conducted business in Milan, he
didn’t expect to find many clients at the early hour in the
attorney’s office. The front of the suite was dark thanks to the
single window with a drawn shade. Scattered rays of sunlight,
however, bled into the room; and with the aid of the dimmed ceiling
lights the place, was cast in a gauzy yellow haze. The receptionist
desk was absent of Nora, who usually greeted him with a big smile
and large breasts. The kind of tits a man could suck all day. He’d
fucked her twice, but she was a bit too clingy for his
taste.
Milan was Lorenzo’s home after his exile.
Negali typically worked out of Napoli. However, over the past years
with the Calderone war moving the families’ interests further
north, the quick witted attorney had opened an office here. Or so
he said. It served Giovanni well since they acquired the triangle,
which consisted of Milan, Turin, and Genoa.
A rustling noise disturbed his thoughts.
Lorenzo’s brows lowered with suspicion. His gun was tucked to the
back of his pants shielded under his sports coat. However, it
remained well within reach if needed. He didn’t feel the urge to
draw it. Instead he remained silent and alert as he approached the
half- closed door. He eased it open with a slight push of his hand
and then he paused.
The soft seductive allure of Shalimar greeted
him. He actually inhaled deeply, and after one dose of its inviting
appeal, he inhaled again. A woman he was certain he’d never met
before busied herself with a curious task. As she moved about, she
wonderfully stirred the air of Negali’s office.
She had her back to him. She was before a file
cabinet that he was almost certain Negali kept under lock and key.
Using what appeared to be some kind of knife or letter opener, she
pried the lock and opened one drawer after another. Each time she
slammed it shut, she muttered a curse under her breath. Whatever it
was she sought, her search kept coming up dry. He didn’t disturb
her hustle. Something about her hurried manner and skill with the
silver pointed letter opener intrigued him.
Her blouse had the soft ripple of fabric that
reminded him of silk. She wore dark pants flattering her curves.
This one had the fine hips and shapely ass he liked on his women.
Her hair was thick with curls, brushing an inch
to spend the last day of a fucked up year alone. And it suited him
just fine. This is what he’d come to accept year after year since
his ill-tempered mother Isabella died. However, today he had a
cause. Unfinished business to attend to with David Capriccio before
the city of Milan, exploded with lights and good cheer. With the
wedding tomorrow, Lorenzo would have to be quick about things. He
still needed to call in the final details for the festivities.
Mostly, his concerns were the logistics, security, and payoffs to
officials to grant Giovanni complete access to anywhere in the
southern region he chose. It was times like this he missed
Dominic’s role as consigliere . Who wanted to be stuck
with this menial bullshit?
The brisk weather forced him to hang a heavy
dark wool coat over his broad shoulders. It was often an unwelcome
occurrence when the drastic change in climate between the northern
and southern townships came down upon him. Shoving his hands down
in the pockets of his trousers, he continued on. He walked a block
up torturing twisting alleys to the business offices tucked between via Porlezza and via Giulini . Several people dined
outside of sweet smelling cafes, nibbling on pastries. Others
lingered for morning chats over cigarettes and small cups of
espresso. He knew a few, but many knew him, and nodded in respect
at his passing.
The walk was short. Lorenzo entered Negali’s
building and took the elevator to his floor. The building felt
unoccupied. He shed his coat and dropped it in the chair near the
door when he walked inside. A quick check of his watch confirmed he
was early. Since Negali rarely conducted business in Milan, he
didn’t expect to find many clients at the early hour in the
attorney’s office. The front of the suite was dark thanks to the
single window with a drawn shade. Scattered rays of sunlight,
however, bled into the room; and with the aid of the dimmed ceiling
lights the place, was cast in a gauzy yellow haze. The receptionist
desk was absent of Nora, who usually greeted him with a big smile
and large breasts. The kind of tits a man could suck all day. He’d
fucked her twice, but she was a bit too clingy for his
taste.
Milan was Lorenzo’s home after his exile.
Negali typically worked out of Napoli. However, over the past years
with the Calderone war moving the families’ interests further
north, the quick witted attorney had opened an office here. Or so
he said. It served Giovanni well since they acquired the triangle,
which consisted of Milan, Turin, and Genoa.
A rustling noise disturbed his thoughts.
Lorenzo’s brows lowered with suspicion. His gun was tucked to the
back of his pants shielded under his sports coat. However, it
remained well within reach if needed. He didn’t feel the urge to
draw it. Instead he remained silent and alert as he approached the
half- closed door. He eased it open with a slight push of his hand
and then he paused.
The soft seductive allure of Shalimar greeted
him. He actually inhaled deeply, and after one dose of its inviting
appeal, he inhaled again. A woman he was certain he’d never met
before busied herself with a curious task. As she moved about, she
wonderfully stirred the air of Negali’s office.
She had her back to him. She was before a file
cabinet that he was almost certain Negali kept under lock and key.
Using what appeared to be some kind of knife or letter opener, she
pried the lock and opened one drawer after another. Each time she
slammed it shut, she muttered a curse under her breath. Whatever it
was she sought, her search kept coming up dry. He didn’t disturb
her hustle. Something about her hurried manner and skill with the
silver pointed letter opener intrigued him.
Her blouse had the soft ripple of fabric that
reminded him of silk. She wore dark pants flattering her curves.
This one had the fine hips and shapely ass he liked on his women.
Her hair was thick with curls, brushing an inch
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