Page 5 of The Don's Prisoner

“No, six months for you to get married and have a plan of having a child. I need to see progress, and it needs to happen soon. I’m not getting any younger.”

Six months.

How was I going to get married in six months? I didn’t even have a girlfriend. The blonde I had been fucking earlier was just a woman I had met the previous night at a bar. I had taken her home, and we spent the night together. She stayed over until the next day so I could fuck her a few more times, but when I got the call to go to my grandmother’s house, she took off. I didn’t have her number, because I never asked for girls’ numbers. I couldn’t even remember her name.

How was I going to convince a woman to marry me in a few months’ time? Shit like that didn’t happen overnight.

I seethed all the way to the club my friend Seth owned.

When I got to Club Figa, I walked through the doors like I owned the place, taking in the scene around me. It was dark inside, but the lights on the main stage were lit up, flashing as the stripper danced around the pole, her tits completely free. I spared them a glance as they bounced to the beat of the music that was playing and turned to walk past the bar.

One of the security guards stood in front of a black door that completely blended in with the wall. I smiled at him and clapped him on the shoulder as I breezed past him and into the small gray hallway. It took about ten steps to get down the hallway before it opened up into a dark room where there was only one light on, dangling above the green velvet of a card table.

Five men sat around the table playing cards, each one smoking a cigar or a regular cigarette. There were five glasses of an amber liquid, each being held around the wooden edges of the table in carved cup holders. I assumed the liquid was bourbon based on the fact that one of the men, Felix, owned a bourbon company and usually brought a bottle for us all to share.

“Hey Gio!” Logan greeted, one hand placed palm down on the green felt with a cigarette balanced between his fingers. He raised his glass to me with the other as everyone else turned to see me. “Felix brought the good stuff! It’s on the table in the corner.”

“Pot is up to twenty-five grand,” Vito said helpfully, running a hand through his shaggy blond hair. Normally, he had it slicked back, but tonight it looked like he had been running his hands through it repeatedly. Guess he was having another bad night.

Robby, who was sitting between Vito and Logan, elbowed Vito in the ribs while he put the end of his cigar in his mouth. He had a shit-eating grin on his dark face.

“Yeah, and you haven't even won a single hand yet, have you, champ? I’m not even sure you have the cheddar to back it up. Why do we let you play again?”

“Because he’s my friend and a very good customer,” Seth countered as I went over to pour myself some of the bourbon. I took a swig right from the bottle to test it and filled my glass up all the way.

“If he doesn’t have the money to play, he shouldn’t be playing,” Logan argued and eyed my glass as I sat down. “Rough night, huh?”

“You can say that again,” I said and took a big swig. “Family business.”

“Anything we need to know about?” Robby asked. He was one of the Mafia’s loan sharks and a good one at that. He took care of business and had become highly respected, but that also meant he had become privy to more information than most others in his field. I had a feeling he was considering training as a hitman, but he hadn’t said anything yet. It was just a look in his eye, a twinkle he got whenever I talked about a job that ended with someone digging a six-foot hole.

“Nah, it was actual family stuff. Apparently, I am not fulfilling my duty to extend the De Carlo line, and I need to think about settling down…” I took another large gulp of my drink, “and getting married.”

The table erupted with laughter. Even Vito was chuckling.

“You can’t be serious!” Seth scoffed. “You? Get married? Why?”

“Apparently, it’s the commitment to family that my Nonna needs to see. She wants to see the name live on, and if I can’t show her that I’m trying within the next six months, they will excommunicate me.”

Silence rang louder in the room than the laughter had. All we could hear was the faint thumping of the music from the other side of the hallway door—the only part of the room that wasn’t soundproofed.

“Fuck, man, that’s harsh,” Logan shook his head. “After everything you’ve done for them?”

I nodded not wanting to bring any of that up. I didn’t want to think about the first kill I had completed by myself—a fucking politician that had wronged my father somehow. I didn’t want to think about reburying bodies from murders four years after the fact so they wouldn’t be discovered when the land they had originally been buried on was being excavated. I didn’t want to think about all the cement shoes or the neck ties I had performed, all the sensitive documents I had stolen, all the families I had threatened.

You would think it would be good enough. You would think that it would prove my commitment to the family.

“You want a girl for the night? It might cheer you up. Ocean is on, and you haven't had her yet,” Seth suggested.

I shook my head.

“Nah, thanks, man. I just want to play cards.

Vito finally won the pot which meant he was in a really good mood the rest of the night and was able to continue playing. We played for another three hours, and money traded hands many times over. I lost about five grand, which didn’t bother me any, but Logan tapped out about a half hour back, before getting in too deep for his pockets. Robby followed suit soon after, and now it was just Seth, Felix, Vito, and me playing.

It was getting time for me to call it, though. I had shit to do, despite Nonna’s and my father’s belief that I wasn’t taking the business seriously.

“I have a job I gotta handle soon, so I have to get going. Last hand?” I suggested and there was a murmur of agreement.

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