Chapter 2

Antonio was sitting on his favorite chair in the world. The chair itself wasn’t especially out of the ordinary. In fact, it was more or less exactly what you would expect to see a smartly tailored man on the cusp of his fifties sitting in. With fine mahogany arm rests and a well upholstered green velvet back, the chair was elegant and oozing class.

But Antonio had several chairs like this one.

What made this particular chair special was where it was situated.

Antonio took a sip on his piping hot triple-espresso and gazed out from his chair and onto the panoramic view of the city beneath and beyond him. Antonio was in his secret office, an apartment in one of the oldest towers in the whole of New York City.

Not even Antonio’s closest mafia allies knew the location of this place, and Antonio was determined that it would forever be his palace of solitude. Antonio was forty-nine years old and had been involved with the mafia since his childhood. With various family members having held long associations with the mafia and a life of crime in general, it always felt to Antonio like he was going to end up going in the same direction.

As much as Antonio loved the sense of loyalty and togetherness that the mafia way of living helped to develop, he also craved privacy. Despite being a highly placed mafia strategist and decision maker, Antonio often found it hard to be contacted and pestered for his thoughts on everything ranging from inter-city rivalries to murder suspects and even the occasional Sicilian pasta sauce recipe!

So, Antonio’s secret office held a lot of value.

Antonio got up from his beloved chair and walked across the shiny parquet flooring toward the large, circular mirror that hung on the wall.

‘Nearly fifty and still a silver fox,’ Antonio said, running his hands through his silver-white hair and equally well-maintained white beard. ‘All man and no one to dom…’

Antonio shook his head and smiled wryly as he traced his finger over the fine scar on his left cheek, an old war wound from a time where Antonio was far more involved on the street level of criminal activity.

As if being a mafia man wasn’t hard enough, Antonio also had to contend with being a single Dom in a city full of happy-go-lucky boys who would run at the first sight of a gun, let alone the true murky realities of being involved in a true life of crime.

But as much as he tried to focus solely on his mafia interests, Antonio couldn’t deny that his desire to be a Dom burned deep inside of him. He would go to clubs and even partake in some casual nights of spanking and fucking, but Antonio knew that it wasn’t the real thing – not how he knew it could be with the right boy.

Damn it, man.

Quit thinking about boys, butts, and paddles.

Mind back on the job, now…

Antonio picked up his espresso and finished it off in one final sip. Walking back toward his armchair, Antonio considered the fact that he still hadn’t seen the inside of a proper jail in over twenty years of active mafia service.

Some people called him Lucky Antonio.

Others from rival families had even cast aspersions and gossiped that he was an FBI informant.

But those close to Antonio knew the truth. And the truth was that Antonio was a tactical and strategic mastermind. He could be cold, calculating, and often ruthless in the extreme.

But one thing that no one could say about Antonio was that he was a bad decision maker. This was perhaps above all other things the reason for him to have survived to forty-nine years old in arguably the most dangerous business in the world. And to have done all of that without one successful conviction against him was just something else altogether.

Antonio was good at what he did. He was damned good, in fact. Antonio would sometimes feel a pang of guilt or regret for the amount of people who he had sent to a premature grave. Antonio consoled himself with the fact that anyone coming into the criminal way of life knew that a single pull of a trigger could end their life at any moment. No one was a fool to the consequences – and if they were, that was on them.

But Antonio didn’t have a heart of stone. Even on a subconscious level, Antonio felt an empathy towards his victims or fallen enemies – after all, each one of them had families to one degree or another.

With this in mind, Antonio took part in one of his regular traditions. Pouring himself a fine scotch, Antonio held his glass aloft and made a silent toast before he took a gulp of the well-aged spirit.

People have died at my hands, or under my orders.

I know I’m going straight to hell.

But while I’m here, I have to do my best for my soldiers.

Despite having evaded arrest for many years, Antonio had recently begun to sense that the net was closing in on him a little bit. There was nothing concrete he could point to in order to prove this, but Antonio’ sixth sense was telling him that now more than ever, his freedom was under threat.

Antonio knew that in a legal sense, and maybe a moral sense too, that he deserved to be punished for his crimes. People had spent whole life sentences in prison for committing a single murder, and yet Antonio was still free and living a life of luxury despite having lost count of the amount of serious crimes he had either committed or been instrumental in organizing.

But Antonio wasn’t ready to quit. And he certainly wasn’t ready to roll over and let the police put him behind bars for the rest of his life. Antonio felt that if he was going to face true justice, it would be at the hands of the streets and not some dirty, probably totally corrupt cop looking for the next promotion.

I need a new angle.

I need to stay ahead of the game.

But how?

Antonio decided to send a message to his brother Damian, the idea of meeting for lunch at Yashimi’s Sushi Bar appealing to him. Damian was a big sushi fan himself, so Antonio was more than hopeful that his brother and fellow mafia man, would be as keen as he was…

ANTONIO: Now I know that sushi is too good to resist on any day of the week. You and me. How about it? I can meet you at Yashimi’s in 45 minutes.

DAMIAN: You know I’d fucking love some sushi. But… I’m with the boy. And things are about to get pretty damn spicy over here, if you know what I mean. As much as I love you, you know I’m not missing out on what I’ve got in store with Jake. Another time.

Antonio rolled his eyes. He felt frustrated that Damian was otherwise occupied, but ultimately felt happy for him. Like Antonio, Damian was a Dom and had found his forever boy in the shape of Jake. Damian and Jake were a great couple, and the truth was that Antonio wished them all the best – even if it meant that his plans for sushi would have to take a rain check this time.

But perhaps for this reason, the thought of having a boy himself left Antonio conflicted. Yes, there were plenty of very obvious upsides to having a submissive, eager to please boy to play with and discipline when necessary. Antonio would never have denied that, even in his grumpiest mood.

However the time commitment that a boy came with was something that Antonio didn’t know if he could handle. How would Antonio ever successfully explain to a boy that being a mafia man, especially at his rank, was a near-enough 24-7, 365 days of the year occupation?

Antonio found his mind casting back to the past.

There was a boy once. His name was Gio and he was daring, slender, and never knew when to quit. Antonio had been in love – and the relationship worked well, because Gio was involved in crime himself. Being a getaway driver, Gio knew the risks and understood the mafia lifestyle.

But when Gio was killed in a car chase with a rival mafia family, the pain it brought to Antonio was so immense that a part of Antonio’s heart shut down and never opened again. In fact, the months after Gio’s death where perhaps the only time in his life that Antonio felt unsure whether he wanted to stay in the mafia – not that leaving alive was a serious possibility.

In the aftermath of Gio’s death, Antonio’s decisions went awry, his thinking was nowhere near as clear as it needed to be. It was like he was a different person.

But ultimately, Antonio did get over Gio. Normal service was resumed and Antonio continued to build upon his reputation as a mafia man to be respected, feared, and admired in equal measure.

‘Here’s to you, Gio,’ Antonio said, pouring himself another scotch and paying his respects to the fallen boy. ‘You lived fast, just the way you liked it.’

It was at this point that Antonio decided to cheer himself up. Being down over the memory of Gio and also his lack of a lunch partner wasn’t going to play on Antonio’s mind for too long – he had trained his brain to work a different way.

‘Let’s see what the hell is going on in this crazy city,’ Antonio said, turning the large flat screen TV on to the news. ‘What the fuck…’

Antonio watched the TV as the news showed footage of Detective Niall Sloane holding court outside of the Grand Court, bragging about another high ranked mafia boss who he had personally hunted and help put away on an forty year sentence with no parole.

‘This piece of shit is something else,’ Antonio said, shaking his head in disgust as the Sloane continued to talk about his policing and detective skills like he was some kind of sporting superstar. ‘But he’s dangerous. I need to get to work on him. There must be a weakness. But what?’

Antonio listened to Sloane for a little longer before shutting the TV off.

Usually, Antonio knew exactly how to handle an over enthusiastic cop or aggressive city prosecutor. But there was something a bit different about Sloane. This detective seemed to enjoy the limelight in a way that was both a strength and a potential weakness.

Antonio couldn’t help but think that Sloane was addressing him directly when he said on the news that he was ‘Going for all the big guys. The so-called untouchables.’

If there was one thing that Antonio felt confident of it was that he would be able to find a way to bring Sloane back down to earth from his current perch as the media and city darling.

All Antonio needed was one angle.

But with Sloane clearly setting his sights on more convictions, Antonio knew that it might not be too long before he was directly in Sloane’s line of sight.

Something had to be done, and it had to be done soon…