A Mafia Family Ch. 01

The Vicenti Family resided over the East of America, while the Amani's stayed in the west. Together they ruled the United States and partly Canada. The Mexican and Colombian cartels stayed in their territory and didn't dare to touch the two families, as it was made clear, any attempts will be met with wrath and no remorse.

That however didn't mean that there was no competition, and Vanessa was aware of the whispers around the house. A new threat. If her parents mentioned it, that meant it was of serious scale. She was still partially in the dark, but had overheard the term 'King of the North' on several occasions, but never understood. She overheard the term 'Der Kaiser', and a quick google search revealed that it was German for 'The Emperor'.

Vanessa Vicenti put the gun down and breathed deeply in, exhaling slowly. Her early stages of rage now out of her system, she changed methods and headed for the home-gym. It was orientated a level beneath the ground, the sound-proof shooting room next to it.

She put on the MMA gloves and turned to the heavy boxing bag strapped to the ceiling, awaiting the beat down, and Vanessa did not disappoint. She was ruthless, full of anger, focused and had the technique and power to get the bag swinging in all directions soon enough.

Eleanor Vicenti had heard her daughter slip into the mini shooting range downstairs, and could now her the loud grunts and the connection between fists and the boxing bag. The woman of elegance knew better than to approach her only child in this state. Instead, she optioned for a subtler approach and put her own gloves on as she bounced down the stairs to the gym, which featured a full boxing-ring, several weight machines, a treadmill and other facilities to accommodate the athletes of the family.

"I can see you've gotten good." Eleanor signalled for Vanessa to join her in the ring, glancing at her with a smug.

It was exactly what the daughter needed, a challenge. "Don't cry when I cut your pretty face." She verbally hit back, stepping into the ring and eyeing down the woman that gave her life.

"Let's see what you've got." Eleanor said, still smiling.

**

Mario Vicenti thrust as hard as he could into the whore underneath him. She was a new addition to one of the brothels downtown, apparently of Russian descent, which explained her light features and porcelain skin. He was sweating heavily, like a dirty pig, and struggled to breath. He slapped the right nipple hard once, waiting for the prostitute to shout at him. But when she didn't, he hit her other nipple, this time harder. Once again there was no objection. He glanced into the eyes of the woman that was currently filling his needs and realised that he was in contact with a diamond. This woman was different.

A few seconds after the thought passed his narrow mind, he felt his climax coming and with no warning, began spurting into the whore. After one or two contractions, he dropped on top of her, breathing hard.

"Sweet Mary." He grunted and then turned to the side, off her.

The room consisted of pure silence, the sound of a train gliding loudly could be heard, and the traffic of the metropolitan city filled the void of the sounds.

"Where you from." Mario asked.

In a thick accent and without glancing at him, she replied quietly and in a soft tone. "Serbia."

"I see." He grabbed the large glass of water from the side table and gulped it down. "Well," He began, his hands touching her pussy and entering two fingers. "You're going to get far, believe me."

The Serbian girl smiled widely and revealed a row of white teeth, adding to her prettiness further. Her face mimicked one full of hope. The poor girl thought she was going to be promoted from a mere whore to a more stable profession, to rise through the ranks.

Mario knew his words had double meanings. For him, he always created false hope for the new and young ones. To keep them edging and in line. His philosophy was that if they thought that they were going to make it, they would try harder to please their clients and that ultimately meant better service, which would lead to an influx of customers and therefore more money, which kept Mario happy.

"Round two?" She innocently asked, looking at his limp dick.

He smiled knowingly, the results of his manipulations already taking effect. "If you can get it up with that beautiful mouth, then I don't see why not."

With no further words wasted, the Serbian woman elegantly slid down to the end of the bed, bent over and took Mario's limp dick into her mouth, sucking softly and her tongue stroking his sensitive parts majestically.

Mario placed a hand on her head, getting a tight hold of the blond streaks and groaned. "That's it baby."

**

Yokohama, Japan.

**

Tony Marinetti followed the Japanese man through the wide corridors of the big company building. A man was behind him for precautions and safety reasons.

The guard stopped in front of a large door that was the same as all the others they passed, only behind this one was what he was here for. The guard glanced at Tony, who nodded, and then knocked.

"Hai!" Came from the other side, which was the cue for big Tony to enter.

"Ah." An old man stood up from his chair at the end of a large glass table. "Mr. Marinetti." The old Japanese man balanced himself on a walking stick and met Tony halfway, shaking his hand profoundly. "It is always a pleasure to see you again."

Tony towered over the small man, so had to slightly bent down to show respect. "It is an honour for me to be present today, and of course I am pleased to be invited to your office again, Mr. Osaka."

In the room there were two guards, Tony and Mr. Osaka, as well as his children – The son Genzo Osaka and the daughter Mai Osaka. Both served the purpose of the right hand. It was definitely a unique built of an organisation, but Tony was in no place to comment on how the Yakuza run their families.

"Genzo." Tony stretched his hand out and was met with a glare from the son.

Tony and Genzo's relationship was not on the same level as the father and Tony's. It was obvious. Genzo despised Tony for reasons unclear to the Londoner. Marinetti however didn't spend sleepless nights about it, although he was aware that should the current head of the leading Yakuza Mr. Aikido Osaka pass away, then officially his son would take over, thus putting Tony's relationship with the Japanese at stake. He needed to diffuse the mutual hate, but for now enjoyed taking digs at the shorter man.

He turned his attention from Genzo to the beautiful Mai. She was often dubbed the 'Princess of the East', which was very fitting, Tony thought. Mai defined the term pretty. Her face was porcelain and smooth. She had big black eyes that contrasted her skin and naturally pink lips that aided the effect of innocent and gorgeous. Her hair was silky and long, reaching her the bottom of her butt. While her face was pretty, her body was the complete opposite. She had very large tits that were completely out of ratio on her small frame. Her curvaceous figure was alluring and her personality charming.

Yet rumours entailed that she was not as innocent as her face made her out to be. Stories ranging from her first kill at a young age, to the tortures she gave her pure victims. It was said that she was brutally ruthless and her veins filled with the devil's blood.

"Pleased to meet you again, Princess of the East." Tony smiled knowingly.

"The pleasure is all mine, Keiser." She acknowledged his title and rank.

"Very well, shall we begin?" Mr. Osaka suggested as he sat down again, his guard helping him.

"Of course." Tony complied, his eyes lingering on Mai's, who returned the gaze affectionately.

Everyone took a seat, Genzo sitting to the right of his father while Mai was about to take a seat on his left, before Tony came around and pulled the chair for her.

"Here, let me." She glanced up at his tall built and smiled.

"What a gentleman," She said and lightly touched his arm, giving his big biceps a little squeeze. "Thank you very much Tony."

"You're welcome Princess."

Tony stepped back around the table and sat at the far end table, opposite Mr. Osaka. He unbuttoned the double breasted Armani jacket, which hugged his muscular frame, and slowly took his seat, crossing his legs and putting a finger on his temple while resting his face on the palm of his hand.

"I heard you're having a bit of trouble in the East." Tony began.

No small talk. No affectionate words. Just straight to the point. That was Tony's preferred approach.

The trouble he was talking about were the riots occurring in Tokyo, the city that was supposed to be under Mr. Osaka's complete control, as it was promised to him. Yet a new group seemed to be threatening the ancient Yakuza, as the young and naïve's methods were less subtle, making the natives fear them more than the Mafiosi, including important politicians and government officials that they needed under wraps for the health of their business.

"We have tried severely." Osaka began, his fingers intertwined and resting in front of his face. "But they keep re-appearing like fucking ants."

Tony waved in the air. "No reason to swear, I understand your frustration."

He didn't mind the swearing one bit, but what he was doing was far more important for this meeting. He was claiming charge. Essentially, with the Japanese inviting him to their headquarters in Yokohama, they were seeking his help, and that gave him leeway to take part of the East's business. That would be his break into the East Asian market.

"Don't talk to my father like that!" Genzo shouted angrily.

Tony glared at him, standing up. Osaka instantly diffused the situation by shouting at his son in Japanese, which Tony took as a whole load swearing, from what he could read off Genzo's face.

He wouldn't let anyone talk to him in that manner and he made sure his potential new partners understood that disrespect was the red flag for him.

"I'm sorry for my son, he is young and is not aware of the traditions of the business like you and me are." Mr. Osaka smiled. "I wish he was more like you."

Tony smiled at that. He was younger than Genzo by three years, yet his father admitting that he was better at the game than his own son was a huge compliment, and a valuable show of respect.

"That may be true." Tony began calmly, crossing his legs again and glancing at the head of the Yakuza. "I have something that may interest you." He continued, snapping at his own bodyguard who handed him a thick black file.

He opened it and double-checked the information inside, page for page. "I have to admit that before coming here I have exploited my sources about your little problem." He closed the file and looked at the old man. "Your number for narcotics are at an all time low, people are being forced to buy from the emerging gangs."

"But that isn't our fault." The Princess interjected.

"Business isn't about fault, and your father knows that very well." He turned his chair slightly to Mai, facing her completely now. "But rather it is about mitigating any rising problems instantly and adapting efficiently to keep the numbers high and the influence the same."

"So what are you getting at?" The head asked.

Tony smiled wickedly. "I can hand you this file right her, right now, and your problem will vanish into thin air."

Osaka smiled for the first time in this meeting. "But of course everything comes at a price." Osaka finished the phrase, finally arriving at the same conclusion.

Tony simply nodded.

"And what is it that you're asking for?" Genzo asked, his face red with anger.

"Twenty percent."

"That is out of the question, you are asking for too much." Genzo raised his voice again but Mr. Osaka held his hand up, signalling for his son to shut the fuck up.

"It is a reasonable price Mr. Osaka." Tony continued speaking. "If my projections are correct, the gangs can fairly soon-ish claim territory outside of Tokyo. That means you're looking at Yokohama, Kyoto, Osaka. The major cities vital for the running of your business." He stopped for a few seconds and leaned onto the table. "For twenty percent, all of that headache can disappear in an instant. But of course, I will assist you in the process of bringing the product out to the streets."

Tony finished his piece and silence took over the room. The head of the Yakuza was met with an important decision to make. If he chose wrongfully, it could lead to the doom of the entire organisation and his family and its future. Everything he had built could be in ruins. Tony had the upper hand, he always had it even days before coming into this meeting, and Osaka only just realised that. He never completely understood the true power of 'Der Kaiser', until this moment.

"I agree to your proposal, but" He held a finger in the air to add to the drama of the moment. "If I find the information useless, I demand you to cut off one finger. It is an old tradition of the Yakuza. If a senior makes a mistake, he must pay with his little finger. That is my fair condition." Mr Osaka grabbed into his right pocket and pulled a deck of

Without hesitation, the emperor slid the file across the glass table and got up, buttoning his jacket. "It's a pleasure doing business with you." He said.

Mr. Osaka didn't even hear the parting words of his new partner, as all he could see was red. He wasn't a man of anger and prided himself to be someone that certainly kept calm, but what he was reading and seeing inside the file made his forehead veins show and face utterly red.

Tony glanced at the princess, who was staring back at him, trying to fathom what had just occurred in front of her eyes. He nodded her goodbye and left the room, his bodyguard following a step behind.

As soon as the door was shut, he could hear Mr. Osaka's angry voice shouting, as he had expected. What was in the file would have any father lose his coolness. To have your own son attempting to overthrow you, put the entire family at jeopardy for greed was breaking news. It was a lesson for anyone in the business, that betrayal always came from within.

A few seconds later Tony heard the pop of a gunshot and couldn't help the grin from forming on his face. He loved this life, the violence and the brutality that came with it. He got in the black sedan that was parked outside the building, its windows tinted, and drove off with plans to enjoy the remaining days in Yokohama.

**

London, England

**

"What is it Ray?" Tony answered the phone.

On the other side of the call was his most trusted; Ray Gallagher, ex-police sergeant and private investigator gone rogue. They crossed paths when Tony was doing a favour for a business partner by removing Ray, who had been closing in on cracking the entire organisation down. Instead of putting old man Ray on ice, Tony found more use for him. It has been four years of fostering a bond and connection both are fond of. They trusted each other blindly and would turn their back only on the other.

"There's a dog in your back garden." Ray spoke slowly and quietly.

He once told Tony the story of how easy it was to listen in on phone calls without installing a bug, and apparently the government service has been doing it for years. Acquiring a warrant was on the bottom of their priorities. This led to Ray speaking in codes and letting Tony decipher it.

Tony's expression changed. He calmly recollected his entire steps over the last weeks and whether he made any mistakes, left a note somewhere or had a picture taken off him without knowledge.

"What breed is it?" Tony walked into his office and stood in front of a 20" screen hung on the wall.

It displayed the view of several CCTV's he had installed around the house. He could see Emily sipping on a glass of red wine in the living room and lounging, the housecleaner polishing the dining set and the security guard outside enjoying a cigarette on job. With a quick flick of the remote, the smaller displays converged into a single one that spanned the screen of the TV. This one showed the camera that had clear view of the street in front of his mansion. He zoomed around several objects that popped up, including Ray's old Fiat car, but nothing in particular caught his attention.

"It's an American hound." Ray said, waiting patiently for Tony to find the common person of interest.

Tony switched from the front camera to several back cameras that secured the entire back garden and were hidden like Easter eggs around the yard. He caught the movement of a large frame, dressed in a grey hoodie, tracksuit bottoms and trainers. His hood was up and Tony couldn't identify the face, but the intruder had a heavy built and average height.

"Get him in." Tony commanded Ray.

"With pleasure."

The call ended. Tony dropped his phone on the desk, his eyes glued to the scene enfolding in front of him. He saw Ray emerging from his hideout and slowly stepped closer to the intruder. His form and method reflected years of experience in the service. As soon as he was within range, Ray pulled out a Taser and electrocuted the intruder, who screamed from the shock and then dropped heavily onto the rough ground. Ray glanced up at the camera, smiled and gave Tony a thumbs up.

"Crazy fucker." Tony returned the grin and left his office, ready to question the now knocked out man.

The trio were in what Tony called the bunker. Underground, metal walls, soundproof with the purpose of an interrogation room.

Ray removed the hood from the man, who was now chained to a wall and seated on a metal chair connected to the floor. He wasn't going anywhere. As soon as his face revealed, Tony knew exactly who he was and who sent him, but still nodded to Ray to begin the mini torture. Ray didn't hesitate and began swinging his fists brutally. After the first few hits, the chained man began bleeding from his nose, cheekbone and brow. He had several cuts across his face and a busted lip. His eyes were swelling already and his cheeks began bruising.

Tony signalled for Ray to stop, who stepped away, letting his boss inch closer to the prisoner. "Vito Vitali, let's talk."

**

New York City, USA

**

"We have bad news." Mario spoke with a subtle tone of panic.

He entered his own office, sat in one of the chairs opposing the desk and began fidgeting in his seat whilst looking at his wife. Eleanor was as calm as a man who accepted death, smoking her cigar peacefully and slowly.

"I know." She exhaled puffs of smoke into the confined room.

"Fucking Vito, our best man – How in the fucking world did he manage to get the quietest and most loyal man from our family to turn on us." Mario spoke with anger, his veins pulsating in line with the racing heartbeat and his face redder than usual.

Eleanor scoped the situational and in her head had travelled down the many scenarios of how exactly the event could have played out, but in the end she was always met with a concrete wall. No way around it as for the first time in her life she also was speechless, but unlike her husband who ran his mouth and expressed his emotions at every chance he could, she stayed loyal to her title of the ice-queen.

"You know what this means?"

Mario glanced at his wife, desperately for an answer to ease the pain in his head.

"It means –" She took a puff from the cigar before continuing. "That Vito knows something we don't.

"So what do we do?"

Eleanor smiled wickedly. The next moves must be carried out with complete caution, otherwise she would put everything in jeopardy, including her beloved daughter, but she was confident in what she must do. She elegantly uncrossed her legs, stood up and walked out of the office.