Mafia Kings: Adriano: Chapter 4

I accepted a ride in Sergio’s Audi so I could get to the modeling agency on time.

His thugs drove and sat in the front seat, which put me in the back with the slimy mafioso.

He kept making comments about my ‘rack’ and how he bet I was good in bed.

It made my skin crawl, but I endured it and didn’t say a thing.

No matter what, I had to buy my dad more time.

I kept checking my phone, but no word from my father.

After 20 minutes, we finally arrived at a building on the edge of old Florence.

The exterior was ancient, but the insides had been redone with modern décor – including an elevator.

Sergio left his goons in the car and took me up to the 4th floor. There were a lot of offices up there, but one in particular had glass doors that let you see the lobby inside.

Everything in the lobby was white. Furniture, carpet, chairs – white and shades of cream.

An attractive middle-aged woman was sitting at the front desk. Her dark blue suit jacket was the only spot of color in the room.

Behind her was a wall with Agenzia di Modelle Fiorentina in 12-inch silver letters. Over to the right was a white door.

Sergio took me inside and told the receptionist, “Tell ‘em I got a girl for the 8 o’clock thing.”

“I’m not a girl, I’m a woman,” I snapped.

“Yes you are,” Sergio said with one of his lecherous smiles.

I just rolled my eyes in disgust.

The receptionist made a call (on her white phone, naturally).

Thirty seconds later, an elegant woman in a fashionable business suit opened the door.

“This is her?” she asked as she looked me over.

She was eyeballing me like a butcher would a cut of meat.

“Yup,” Sergio replied. “We worked somethin’ out, so don’t worry about payin’ her. And make sure the boss knows I’m the one who got her for him.”

“Of course,” the woman said curtly, then motioned to me. “Come with me.”

As I walked past him, Sergio leered at me one last time. “Have a good time tonight. And tell your dad he better call me.”

I didn’t bother answering him as I followed the woman through the door.

The area behind the lobby was a maze of hallways. The woman stopped at a door, knocked, and stuck her head in.

“I’ve got a third girl for tonight. One of your guys brought her in just now. She’s right behind me.”

The She’s right behind me part seemed a little suspicious…

Sort of like, Don’t say anything you don’t want her to hear.

A male voice answered. It was wheezy and phlegmy and muffled by the door. I couldn’t see him, but I imagined a 400-pound man with triple chins.

“Good, good. Get her ready.”

As the woman closed the door, I glimpsed a man inside the office. He was sitting in a visitor’s chair by a desk. Above him was a stylized Art Deco poster hanging on the wall.

He hadn’t been the one speaking. Because he was right there in front of the door, his voice would have been clear.

Not only that, but the wheezy, phlegmy voice didn’t match him at all.

He was young, maybe 25 – thin and in good shape.

He wore an expensive suit that had been beautifully tailored. A gorgeous silk tie and pocket square completed the ensemble.

He was clean-shaven with short hair. He was definitely handsome –

But his expression was cold and arrogant.

I don’t think he saw me as the door closed, and I was glad he didn’t…

Because he had the cruelest eyes I had ever seen.

I wasn’t sure how I would have reacted if they had stared right at me.