Mob Story
A Tale of Romance
Two men sat in an office in black chairs and between them was a glass table with a bottle of bourbon on it. The two suited gentleman shared a tumbler, and two Arturo cigars. The first man sat back in his chair with his right leg crossed over his other and his tumbler resting in his hand on an armrest to his right. He puffed on the cigar in the corner of his mouth before he removed it, its dragon-like smoke curling and twisting about his polished head. He was pressed from his slicked back hair down to his pressed black suit. The man was a little older than the one across from him, hinted by the salt that grew about his roots. The seasoned and handsome man was Don Gianni Marconi, boss man behind the drug and weapon trafficking between Chicago and New York City as well as the culling of various small-time gangs who tried to interfere with his business.
Across from him sat his Right Hand, Ignazio Gallo, a man he trusted more than his own mother. They had just successfully finished a deal in New York City that gave them a foot in the city. Marconi had grown tired of Chicago, and he figured that it was about time that he moved on. He and Gallo were celebrating the expansion of their business and that Gianni would be handing Chicago over to him. There hadn’t been much competition and so running Chicago was easily a one-man job.
“I still can’t believe dat you’re givin’ me Chicago,” said Ignazio with a long smile as though he were straining to hold back the true joy he felt to have been given such a position. He sucked on his cigar and whirled the dark amber liquid in his glass.
Gianni smiled at his friend and raised his tumbler. “I trusted nobody else for this job. It was a given.”
Ignazio removed his cigar to raise his tumbler back in cheers as the two sipped from their glasses.
“Have you told your wife of the news?” Gianni asked.
Ignazio’s smile then slowly shrank on his face and his brown eyes lowered to the floor.
“I haven’t been able ta.”
“Why’s that?”
“…she’s in the hospital.”
Gianni slipped the cigar back between his lips and puffed on it idly as he put on his indifferent mask. He had heard all about the relationship between Ignazio and his wife, and he hadn’t liked it. Gianni had the pleasure of meeting her a few times, and her beauty and smile had left a permanent impression in his mind. He had wanted to disbelieve the rumors of him beating her. He couldn’t let some broad come between him and his business.
“Is she all right? What happened?”
“We had an argument dat’s all.”
“An argument? People don’t go to the hospital over an argument.”
“Don, wit’ all due respect, I don’t wanna talk about it, okay?”
Gianni’s grip tightened on his glass. He had to restrain himself for if he squeezed it any harder, then he might have shattered it in his hand.
“No problem. Now…about New York…”
Their discussion continued and an hour after it was over, Gianni decided to leave his office to personally go visit the hospital Ignazio’s wife had been in. He had connections and word travelled through the family quicker than Ignazio might have wanted to believe. He made a stop to pick up a bouquet of flowers and had a nurse escort him to her bedroom for he hadn’t been familiar with the hospital all that well. He had told the nurse that he was her brother-in-law, and that had seemed like a good enough answer for her. She hadn’t felt suspicious one bit.
The nurse opened the patient room door and Gianni stepped in, his hazel eyes running over the beauty (he still thought she was beautiful despite her injuries), and greeted, “Mrs. Gallo, good morning.”
He walked over to hand her the bouquet of purple and yellow flowers and remained standing if she chose to hug him or they exchange kisses to each other’s cheeks.
He then informed hesitantly, “You’re…husband told me you were here.”
He hadn’t told him, but he figured it was a convincing enough lie. No, Ignazio wouldn’t have wanted to tell him where she was and he definitely wouldn’t have wanted him to visit her.
A Tale of Romance
Two men sat in an office in black chairs and between them was a glass table with a bottle of bourbon on it. The two suited gentleman shared a tumbler, and two Arturo cigars. The first man sat back in his chair with his right leg crossed over his other and his tumbler resting in his hand on an armrest to his right. He puffed on the cigar in the corner of his mouth before he removed it, its dragon-like smoke curling and twisting about his polished head. He was pressed from his slicked back hair down to his pressed black suit. The man was a little older than the one across from him, hinted by the salt that grew about his roots. The seasoned and handsome man was Don Gianni Marconi, boss man behind the drug and weapon trafficking between Chicago and New York City as well as the culling of various small-time gangs who tried to interfere with his business.
Across from him sat his Right Hand, Ignazio Gallo, a man he trusted more than his own mother. They had just successfully finished a deal in New York City that gave them a foot in the city. Marconi had grown tired of Chicago, and he figured that it was about time that he moved on. He and Gallo were celebrating the expansion of their business and that Gianni would be handing Chicago over to him. There hadn’t been much competition and so running Chicago was easily a one-man job.
“I still can’t believe dat you’re givin’ me Chicago,” said Ignazio with a long smile as though he were straining to hold back the true joy he felt to have been given such a position. He sucked on his cigar and whirled the dark amber liquid in his glass.
Gianni smiled at his friend and raised his tumbler. “I trusted nobody else for this job. It was a given.”
Ignazio removed his cigar to raise his tumbler back in cheers as the two sipped from their glasses.
“Have you told your wife of the news?” Gianni asked.
Ignazio’s smile then slowly shrank on his face and his brown eyes lowered to the floor.
“I haven’t been able ta.”
“Why’s that?”
“…she’s in the hospital.”
Gianni slipped the cigar back between his lips and puffed on it idly as he put on his indifferent mask. He had heard all about the relationship between Ignazio and his wife, and he hadn’t liked it. Gianni had the pleasure of meeting her a few times, and her beauty and smile had left a permanent impression in his mind. He had wanted to disbelieve the rumors of him beating her. He couldn’t let some broad come between him and his business.
“Is she all right? What happened?”
“We had an argument dat’s all.”
“An argument? People don’t go to the hospital over an argument.”
“Don, wit’ all due respect, I don’t wanna talk about it, okay?”
Gianni’s grip tightened on his glass. He had to restrain himself for if he squeezed it any harder, then he might have shattered it in his hand.
“No problem. Now…about New York…”
Their discussion continued and an hour after it was over, Gianni decided to leave his office to personally go visit the hospital Ignazio’s wife had been in. He had connections and word travelled through the family quicker than Ignazio might have wanted to believe. He made a stop to pick up a bouquet of flowers and had a nurse escort him to her bedroom for he hadn’t been familiar with the hospital all that well. He had told the nurse that he was her brother-in-law, and that had seemed like a good enough answer for her. She hadn’t felt suspicious one bit.
The nurse opened the patient room door and Gianni stepped in, his hazel eyes running over the beauty (he still thought she was beautiful despite her injuries), and greeted, “Mrs. Gallo, good morning.”
He walked over to hand her the bouquet of purple and yellow flowers and remained standing if she chose to hug him or they exchange kisses to each other’s cheeks.
He then informed hesitantly, “You’re…husband told me you were here.”
He hadn’t told him, but he figured it was a convincing enough lie. No, Ignazio wouldn’t have wanted to tell him where she was and he definitely wouldn’t have wanted him to visit her.
