Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 163540 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 818(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
I frown in confusion.
Mario opens a large leather box that has a folder inside. “As the oldest Ferrara son, I must advise you that, as of this moment, all the family business now lies in your hands. You are the sole owner of Ferrara enterprises.” He begins to read. “Ferrara Sports Cars, valued at nine billion euro The Flamingo Bell Football League side, and the four football stadiums. Seventy million euro worth of real estate.” He slides his finger over the list of assets as he reads them out. “Five hundred and twenty-two high class brothels. Seventy-two VIP strip clubs.”
What the fuck?
My phone beeps, and I turn it over thinking it may be my mother. A picture of a clifftop view over the ocean comes to life on the screen, alongside a text.
Arrived safely.
Wish you were here.
Olivia.
I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling like I’m about to explode. “Carry on.”
“Nine casinos worldwide, valued at an estimated fourteen billion euro.”
I stare at him as he reads through the list. The room begins to spin.
“Four thousand staff and another eleven hundred personal staff.”
“Personal staff?”
Mario looks up over his glasses and closes the book. He clasps his hands in front of him. “You’re not a stupid man, Enrico.”
I clench my jaw.
“Not all of the Ferrara businesses are reputable.” He pauses. “But it has been vital to keep these parts of the business going in order to support the legitimate businesses. Your grandfather was a shrewd businessman. The generations before him, however, were not. It was those businesses, though, that gave Stefano the funds needed to build an empire.”
“Drugs?”
His eyes hold mine. “Among other things. You will be briefed on that side of the business.”
I drop my head in shame, and Lorenzo puts his hand on my shoulder. “It’s all right, son,” he whispers.
“You will need to resign from the police force immediately to begin your training,” Mario says.
“Fuck you. I’ll do nothing of the sort.” I make to stand, and Lorenzo pushes me back down into my seat.
A trace of a smile crosses Mario’s face. “Your father always said that you will be the best leader the family has ever had. He pushed you to be a policeman to learn how the other side of the law works.”
I stare at him, completely lost. “Why?”
“So that you would have an edge over everyone else.”
“I want nothing to do with this.”
He smiles sadly. “I’m afraid you don’t have a choice, son. There are a lot of people who want to take your throne. We have had word that your father’s bodyguards are missing.”
I sit up. “You mean?’
“Our men don’t go missing unless they’re dead. This wasn’t an accident, Rico.”
Anger begins to surge through my blood.
“We think we know,” Lorenzo says, “and we’re waiting for confirmation.”
My eyes flick between the two of them. “Who did this?” I demand.
“Rico,” Mario says as he holds my gaze. “At this point, you have two options. You take the reins, or you prepare to die. Your skin is the next one they will want as a trophy.”
I stare at him.
“Take over the empire… or you and your family—your mother, grandmother, and sister—will no doubt be murdered in cold blood. It’s only a matter of time.”
“Fuck you. I will do nothing of the sort,” I hiss angrily.
He narrows his eyes. “So, you’ll leave it to Andrea then. Or perhaps Matteo?”
I stare at him as my mind goes to my two gentle brothers.
“Your family assets need to be protected, Enrico. Andrea can’t do this job. He isn’t strong enough. We both know that, and Matteo is too young.”
“Does she know?”
“Your mother?” Lorenzo asks. I nod. “No, and she never will. Unless you don’t do the right thing and she wakes up one day with a bag over her head or in the trunk of a car. Or perhaps she’ll be mourning the death of Francesca, instead,” he says sadly.
My stomach twists.
“How will it feel to have that on your conscience, Enrico?” Mario says. “The family needs your strength now. Our men need your strength,” Lorenzo pleads.
“Shut up,” I whisper. “Shut the fuck up.”
“You will not be alone. We have men to train you. Your staff are loyal. They loved your father. We will look after you. We are your family. Your grief is our grief,” Mario says.
“We?”
“I am a part of the business, Enrico. It’s not all bad, and you will be surprised who Stefano has on his payroll.”
“Get out,” I sneer.
He stands and puts his hand on my shoulder. “In time, you will come to appreciate the choices your family before you have made. You are very fortunate to be a Ferrara.”
I stare straight ahead, unable to make eye contact with him.
“Suck it up. You have funerals to arrange. Do your fathers proud.” Mario stands, leaves, and the door closes quietly behind him.