Kenzo Book 4

KENZO

The clock keeps ticking. Tick tock, tick tock. That’s all I can hear, and it’s nerve-racking in its very own way—temperamental.

The days turn to night quicker than ever before, the laughter has gone, and life keeps passing me by in a flash. The worst part about all of this is that time is out of my control.

To catch a predator, you need to become one. The person hiding in the darkness is there for a reason, but the question is why? Thinking about it, what part of the darkness do you search first—the deep depths or the surface?

She could have walked away, but there’s always the possibility that she was forced to make a choice that she didn’t want to make. Two different directions and zero answers.

My phone rings, and I pick it up off my black high-gloss desk, looking at the caller’s identification.

“What do you want, Dad? I’m tied up in a new lead.” I place my hand on the desk and stand up.

“You need to forget about her. She’s gone,” he tells me down the phone. That fucker has lost his goddamn mind. Forget about her?

There is no chance in hell that I will sit back and pretend that none of this ever happened. Never in a million years. That man can keep wishing for me to forget about the one girl that placed her trust in my hands.

“Maybe I should have forgotten about you when you disappeared. How about that, Papa? I searched for you and Mum for years!

“Is this how I should be treated? I gave up my life just to profit you. Cazzo. Just leave me alone,” I shout down the phone feeling mightily pissed off.

He never did like Rebecca, even when he returned with no memory of her, he made it obvious that Rebecca was too innocent for me. I don’t care; I make my own choices because I’m a man who has his own mind.

“I need you to come in. There’s a job that needs finishing,” he tells me in a calm voice. Not that it seems to be working for him in any way, shape, or form possible.

I’m surprised that he didn’t shout at me in Italian. He usually does. As you may have figured out, my family barely speaks in our native language. I’m not exactly sure why, but we stick to the English dictionary.

“You have hands, use them!” Ending the call, I straighten out my new black suit jacket that I had tailor-made specifically for tonight’s antics.

Taking my gun and sliding it inside my suit jacket pocket, I remove my holster. This holster is too suspicious to carry for obvious reasons—it being too bulky to where any man can see it underneath my suit jacket.

If I were to be searched, then that person searching me would find it and then want to know why I have it.

They would then search for the hidden gun that I’m carrying in my suit pocket, not that I would go in there empty-handed anyway, but they tend to hope that I’m not stupid enough to take one in with me.

I guess I must be that one man who has a death wish. I do.

I enter the dark, cold building and step aside in the hallway. There are more men than I expected in this hallway. Toko introduces himself, lighting a pipe with a mix of drugs inside.

I would usually step back, but I keep my feet firmly planted on the floor. I hate that shit! I need to be a horrible fucker, but not one to where they would suspect.

If I were to stand the way I usually do, then they would know I am a part of the Societa Oscura.

I stand out too much, which is why I have my hands down at my sides and a black suit with gold pinstripes. It looks bloody awful, but I will wear it if it helps me to blend in.

After all, I am stepping into dangerous territory. A territory that isn’t mine. A place out of bounds where you would only enter in a group of ten, and that’s the minimum.

A shithole filled with men who my organization kill for fun. Still, these men are impossible to take out when you’re a one-man show. Even so, I’m being the man with no head on his shoulders treading on thin ice.

He passes me the pipe, and I take it.

Keeping my cover, I place the pipe inside my mouth and keep it there. Granted, I need to show him that I am part of his world, but he can get fucked if he thinks that I will inhale this pipe filled with all sorts of chemicals.

It could kill me. I would fear for my own safety if I was to inhale it. I would start hallucinating, and I don’t have a high tolerance when it comes to mixing drugs in my system.

I would lose my mind, not only that, but I would also have men searching for me because I would fall off the edge of the dock or something. Passing Toko the pipe back, he points at a door, and I walk toward it.

Entering what they call the waiting room, I sit back on a ripped red material couch and look around. The room is dark green with a set of stairs that go up the left wall.

The room is small, and I can see that the people who live here are hoarders of rubbish that is thrown all over the floor. I can see used needles, tin foil, empty food packets, bowls and plates with cutlery on them.

Food that is well past its sell-by date grow their very own habitat on the dirty dishes. Sighing, I look up at the cigarette-smoke-stained ceiling. This place is a disaster.

The wooden door that is directly opposite me with a hole in the center of it opens up, and an old friend of mine enters the room. He’s my cousin actually.

Still, there’s nothing wrong with me calling him a friend. The last time that I saw him, I was a kid.

“Draven, my main man.” I nod at him when Toko exits the room, closing the door behind him.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were staying away from this side?” he asks me, turning his head on its side, confused, as he walks across the room toward me.

Straightening my suit jacket and hiding my pistol, I sit up.

“A girl I have a close relationship with has disappeared. I have a feeling that she is somewhere on this side of the fence. I can’t forget her friend either. She’s missing too.”

He takes a seat on the chair next to me in thought, and I keep my eyes firmly on the door. We can’t get caught talking. They will suspect that we are the police.

“You have got to be kidding me. Fuck, that’s deep. I’ll keep my eye out. Names?” Draven asks me, and I give him a swift nod.

Grabbing a piece of paper from the outside pocket of my suit jacket, I pull out a pen and write their names down. Holding the piece of paper out to Draven, I wait for him to take it.

“Rebecca and Trish. I will send you all of the details later on.”

Draven looks down at the piece of paper, and I slide the pen back inside my suit jacket. I am an organized man, and a pen always will be found inside my suit jackets.

“Include pictures,” Draven tells me.

“I will.” He nods his head, and I glare at him for a brief second. He slides the paper into his sock and sighs.

“What are you doing here? I thought that you had your hands full with Malicia,” I ask him, my eyebrows knit together. Him and Malicia were inseparable the last that I heard from one of his men.

“Yeah. That didn’t go too well. Remember Ronan, he was killed two years back?” Draven clears his throat.

“I do. His father’s organization went under, and you took over their territory years ago before you controlled what they could do.” I remember back to the past, and Draven nods, agreeing with my statement.

“I killed them all off. That fucker attacked Malicia.” Breathing in deeply, Draven shakes his head. He’s frustrated. “I had to let her go because Xavier showed up.”

What has Xavier got to do with this? Xavier’s group is the Societa Oscura’s rival. Oh, how I hate that man. I would tell you all about his organization, but I would be wasting my time.

“He was related to Ronan and threatened to drag Malicia to this side of the fence if I was to not give her back. I had to let her go, and I haven’t heard anything about her since. I may need to look into her and Ronan again.”

Why didn’t he ask me for help? We could have protected Malicia and stopped her from going back to Ronan. That man is an abusive ass who uses women, and Xavier is no better.

There again, I can’t even keep my own family safe never mind helping Malicia out.

“A lot has happened. So why are you here and not in Sicily? My dad did pass that side over to you, and you’re supposed to be over there until we take it back over again.”

I raise my eyebrows. He should be in Sicily! My dad would go off his head if he was to find Draven here in Arlington.

“I’m helping another nine get out of here.” Nine? That number again…

“Why nine specifically?” I ask him.

“They only allow for you to withdraw nine at a time. I come to these places in search of women to help. If I do find any women, then I will pay the men and help them to escape. That’s what I intend on doing here now.”

“What do you plan on doing with them once out of here?” I look over at the door. I can hear footsteps.

“I went over my business plan years ago. There again, I don’t expect for you to remember. You were new to all of this. I take the women and help them with their addictions. I call it a rehab.

“Once I’ve helped the women, I set them free on a luxury island that I built years ago. There’s a small community of women who reside there with their families where they are protected by our men who volunteered to do the job.

“After five years, me and our group of volunteers help by setting them up in a stable home and giving them a job at the local bakery.”

“That’s genius, but what do you get out of it?”

He shrugs. “Nothing. My plan is to help the community. If I get at least one thank you, then that shows that what I am doing is working. As I say, watching them smile makes me happy. It’s as simple as that really.”

Draven checks his mobile phone, and I smirk. I will send some money over to him. Hopefully that will help him save more women in the future.

“So how is the group getting on in Sicily?” I ask him because I’m interested.

I was going to go over and get all the men in order, but my dad wants me here with him. That’s why Draven runs the organization from Sicily, and I am here in Arlington with my dad.

“I have been running it the way that my father did when I was a kid. I can admit that it’s tougher now, but I have been keeping a close eye on your side for guidance. Other than that, all is good.

“As I said, I will keep you updated, I have it all taken care of. How is that Dante kid doing? Is he all right?”

“Practically family. Not far off your status.” I smirk at him, allowing a small chuckle to leave my throat.

“Piss off! I’m your second cousin, he’s a random kid. No one can replace me.” He flips his hair with a swift nod, and we both laugh.

“Dante was taken in when he was a kid,” I tell Draven honestly. His mother was in a bad place back when we were in high school, and I promised to give them a good life. I stuck to my promise.

“I remember seven years back when I was talking to that kid in Italian. He told me to fuck off and said that he didn’t know what I was saying.

“I took the piss out of him because he’s fucking Italian himself and should know how to speak it. It’s safe to say that I was shocked when I found out that he was Italian and couldn’t speak it. That kid is boss.”

The door swings open, and Draven leans back on the chair. I sit down on the ripped sofa. Toko walks over to Draven and takes a blood test. I watch closely.

Luckily, I thought ahead and cleared my name from every system imaginable. I had a feeling they would do this. Placing the sample inside a sealable plastic bag, Toko then takes my blood and leaves the room quietly.

“You did scan the system and take your name out of it, I hope,” Draven says to me, glancing over as he taps the top of his arm with a piece of cotton wool. He’s wearing a white shirt.

I look up at him, taking myself out of my daydream.

“I’m not stupid,” I snap. Who does he think that I am? A student in the underworld?

“What you going to do if they notice you? I mean, I have the backup if I need it, but I’m sure that your dad would not be too happy about having to bail your ass out of this shit.”

Cheers for not having faith in me, my friend.

“I built up what he has now. I know what I’m doing. When I first started out, the group was falling apart, and I made it what it is today.” I squint my eyes. He’s pushing a sensitive nerve.

“I’m not doubting you. Your group is big, it’s just that these fuckers are sly bastards.” I know they are.

“My name is Ryan Folling in the system. I made sure of it,” I tell Draven, and he nods.

The door smashes against the wall, and a man enters. He’s broad. Bigger than me in fact. I work out all the time, and this fucker is even making me feel small. I didn’t see this day coming.

“Get the fuck up.”

He grabs my collar, and it takes sheer determination for me to not pull back and headbutt him in the nose. I want to shoot him between his eyes, but I know that what I am thinking is not the best idea.

Draven sits up straight, ready to launch himself onto his back.

Dragging me to my feet, the man stares down at me, and I meet him eye-to-eye. Is he trying to intimidate me? If so, then his plan is failing. I, Kenzo Robernero, do not cower for nobody.