Mafia in the City

Do you believe in destiny? That connection between two souls who were meant to be before... and now. “Lightning never strikes the same place twice.” Let me prove you wrong... because destiny always finds a way to strike twice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I followed the maze of halls leading down to the only open stairwell. Jogging down the steps, the temperature, and the noise level grew the closer I got to the basement. I pulled open the door and the smell of sweat and blood mixed with the dustiness of the usually vacant building hit me. The sounds and smells of a fight surrounded me. Every smack of skin against skin was met with extreme applause and shouts for more.

“Boss,” Chris shouted over the loud crowd.

“What’s going on?” I scanned the room. “Where’s Lucas?”

“We have a problem with one fighter,” he says. “Lucas is dealing with it.”

“Cazzo.” Pushing through the crowd, I brushed past my security and walked into a long hallway. I pushed open the temporary locker room to see Lucas and Ben in a deep and heated conversation.

Ben looked embarrassed as he looked at me. “Man I told them it wasn’t a big deal. Just a stupid thought.”

I had no fucking clue what he was talking about, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. “Still a thought you had. Which means it’s something I need to know. Now I want to hear it from you. Where’s your head at?”

“This man, he comes in here telling me I could make more at other fights. He said I could go more often. Every day, if I wanted. Then he flashes me some cash and says my signing bonus would be even more. My ma works her ass off, taking care of my little brother and sister. I help, but it isn’t enough.”

I fought to keep my temper. Despite only being nineteenth, Ben was new to the circuit. He had a gift, fancy footwork, giving him an edge and a nickname. “You know why you fight once a week?” He shook his head. “It’s because your body needs time to heal. If you fight every day, you’ll get ripped apart within a couple of months, and that’ll be it.” He mumbled something as he looked down. “You need more money. You tell Chris about it. If he thinks you’re earning it, he’ll make it happen. But don’t believe the bullshit lies some jerkoff is spouting.”

“That’s why it was just a thought,” he says. “I get offers like that; all the time, but this guy seemed different from the others. He said his name was James Costa. He even gave me his business card.”

My patience with that man was running low. “Where’s your manager?” The man who’s in charge of stopping anyone from talking to my fighter.

He shrugged. “No clue.”

“All right kid, you’re up soon, so we’ll let you get ready.” I opened the door and Lucas followed me out. Taking a few steps, we passed another door.

When I heard a small noise, I took a big step back and opened the door. “Fuck,” I yelled, wishing I had some bleach to throw in my eyes. Looking up, I shook my head. “Is there a reason you’re not in there with your fighter?”

“He said he wanted some alone time,” he lied. “I was just... I mean, I figured.”

“Wait!” The woman said, no longer having her mouth full. “You said Ben wanted me to... you know, but only if I was good.” Not looking back into the closet, I looked toward the locker room.

When Chris opened the door I yelled, “You ask dickhead here to go get you a girl?”

Ben stepped into the hallway as he wrapped his hands, shaking his head. “No. I don’t fuck on fight night.”

I looked into the room. “Try again.”

“You fucking pig,” the girl screamed, throwing herself at him.

Lucas walked into the closet and grabbed her. Her eyes met mine. “Get lost.” She ran out of the closet. Turning back to Ben again. “You attached to him?”

He shook his head. “Nah. He ducks out early and shit.”

“Fire him.”

Shrugging, Ben turned to him. “You’re fired.” He started his excuses, but Ben returned his attention to me.

“Chris will find you a new manager, a new trainer, all that shit. If you have issues, you go to him. Or if you need to, you contact Mr. Moretti or me. Understood?”

“Yes, sir,” he said with a nod.

“If I catch you at any of these fights, you’re going to regret it,” I promised him. “You’re out of this circuit. You don’t leave one of my fighters alone for someone to approach him. Especially if it’s so you could get off using his name.”

“You can’t do that!” He screamed before catching himself and stepping back.

“The thing is, I can do that. I can also make sure that you’re out of all the circuits in the city. Actually,” I started before pausing. Unbuttoning my suit coat, I leaned in the doorway with my hands in my pockets. I knew my gun was visible by the way his eyes dropped and shot back up; his face turned pale. “I can make sure no one sees your face again. You’ll be a whisper of a has-been, eventually forgotten.” I straightened up and took a step closer. “Are we clear?”

“Yes,” he said as he sank to the floor.

“Good.” Turning, I walked out of the closet. “Find Costa.” When we reached the fight room, we split up. I made it to the other side before I found him. “What are you doing here?”

“Just checking out the competition,” he says as he takes a sip of his beer.

“Finish your beer and leave.” I walked away before he can say anything else.