Bruno: A Dark Mafia Romance
Bruno
A Dark Mafia Romance
Raven Scott
Contents
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Epilogue
Also by Raven Scott
Dedication
For Bonnie And Kim. The Greatest Sisters I Could Ask For.
Prologue
La Cosa Nostra
* * *
“There’s a very powerful feeling that comes with becoming a made man. From the way people treat you, to the easy money, easy women, and the sense of family that ties true crime brothers. You feel invincible. Unstoppable. It’s like a drug. Speeding at ninety miles per hour, you become a different person. Cocksure, and brash. You start throwing the dice on your freedom, on your life. Committing criminal acts in the name of loyalty and ball kicking revenge. Risking it all in pursuit of a colossal payoff. Moving too fast for logic to remind you that every high has its come down. So shit faced delusional that you feel nobody can touch you. Not unless they wanna wind up in the trunk of your car by the end of the week.
It’s how they want you to feel, the bosses. The godfathers of the mob.
It’s why they recruit prospects young. Young...and desperate. Amateur, street-level criminals willing to trade their souls and blacken their hearts for a shot at a big-time score.
That’s right, in this sorry ass pool of misguided faith is where the raging megalodon sharks of the mob reef feed.
Once you’re in it, you start to realize all the rules, trust, honor...it ain’t so. Nobody plays fair in this game. You can’t trust anyone fully. Not even your own brothers. The only way to win. Make it to the top before somebody’s bullet plants eyeballs into the back of your skull.
Myself, I don’t have any regrets. Clichéd as fuck, but I know in my heart, this life chose me. Like everyone else, the oldies lured me in with promises of money and notoriety. Most never get there. Most limp along, never achieving the success they were promised. But I did. Was I to live like some assholes bitch the rest of my life? Fuck no. I always wanted to be boss, knew it from day one. To live, die, and be remembered as the boss, no matter what it took. Hell, I knew that hunger was dangerous.
Real fucking dangerous.
Like a little dumbass bitch, I always figured I’d be ok. Thought I was better than that. Like a cocky ass fucker, I saw myself as the exception. Not like most of those wise guys out on the streets; I was raised tough. And I saw what was coming outta this life. Knew what to expect. Most don’t. See, it’s only later, when you’re a made man –sworn into that life ‒ that you start to taste the bitter aftertaste ‒ of what you’ve become. And it’s a BITCH of an aftertaste. When the mob has you by the throat, by the balls, infiltrating your every thought even while you sleep, most realize it’s too much for them. When you learn all that power is just a fucked-up mental state with deadly repercussions and shit, therein lies the dilemma for everybody who eats the poison…there’s no walking away from the mob. No ifs, and or buts about it. No Walking Away EVER.
Not even for the idiots and the pussies that should have never been let in to start off with. It’s a sad fucking truth for those who are weak. It’s an unhappy story for others, whose lives found new priorities and things they’d rather fucking do, but there it is. Your theirs until death, or until the jury brings their guilty verdict.
You’re mafia for LIFE – La Cosa Nostra.
You can’t leave. Shit, they’ll carry you out feet first before you’ll ever do that.”
Bruno De Luca
Chapter One
The very unfortunate beginning.
* * *
Sicily, Italy. 1973
* * *
“You ready?” Bruno winked at his brother.
Gunz nodded firmly. “Bring it on.”
Nobody saw when the two brothers in black scaled the metal gates around the parking area of Alcantara Gorge, Sicily. No one noticed how the fluorescent street lighting bounced off their bodies, casting eerie elongated shadows.
The streets were empty and quiet tonight. Although partially lit and locked behind tall steel gates, the parking lot was unguarded. In the moonless dark, the lonely car park seemed somehow sinister, but these men were used to a sense of foreboding. Two, broad-shouldered, bears of men, scurried in unison, deep into the parking lot and disappeared behind the far wall of the unlit security box. It was one of only five blind spots from the security cameras ‒ perched on telephone poles on the perimeter, facing inwards.
With his back to the wall, Bruno’s eyes panned the scene and quickly sighted on a red Fiat. He looked back at his brother and grinned. “Over there. That’s our mark,” he whispered.
Gunz glared at the vehicle. “You think it’s alarmed?”
Bruno shook his head. “Not this one.”
Gunz nodded. “Cool. I’ve got your back.” Drawing a knife from its sheath on his belt, he slid the blade through the base of the sash window, unlocking it from the outside. He pressed upwards with his palms to free the bottom of the window from the windowsill.
Once the sash was freed, Bruno placed his hands underneath the sash and pushed up the window allowing Gunz to climb inside. Swinging a black duffel bag from over his shoulder, he passed the other man the bag and waited in silence for a few minutes while his brother tinkered around inside. When the lights went out and darkness fell, Bruno switched on his torch and knew the surveillance cameras were now as dead as the lights.
When Gunz gave him a thumbs up from the open window, Bruno jerked his chin towards the red car and narrowed his eyes, listening intently to his surroundings for anybody else who could be around. Silence. Squatting low, he hustled across the tarmac towards the shiny red Fiat in the far corner. Without hesitation, he shrugged off his bomber jacket, wrapped it around his fist and punched through the window, shattering the glass with a SMASH. With his fist inside the vehicle, he dropped his coat onto the floor of the car. He felt just under the window frame on the inside for the lock, then, unlocking the door he clicked it open and jumped in.
At once, he shoved a screwdriver from his pocket into the ignition. He turned it like a key and grinned as the engine fired. Flicking the headlights on low beam, he shifted into reverse and turned the wheel toward the exit. A natural born risk taker, Bruno’s veins were stiff with adrenaline, but his hands rested calm and easy around the steering wheel like an Indy driver’s grip.
Rolling slowly forwards, he raised his eyes to the locked gates and saw his brother loitering there. He watched as the other man tugged a pair of heavy-duty bolt cutters from the duffle bag. Then, positioning the giant cutters over the stainless steel chains, he snapped them in half with two bites of its metal teeth.
Bruno sighed with a mild frustration. If he had his way, they’d have cut the front gates in the beginning and walked right on through. Surely, that was why they were dressed head to toe in black, right? Even if the cameras caught them, they couldn’t possibly be identified. But his brother always wanted to be careful, always cut the cameras first to be sure they’d never be caught. Gunz was no coward, but he’d always been vigilant. Every week, it was the same routine, different location. Every time, it was
the same...the slow, boring approach was Gunz’s style all over.
Bruno waited a moment as Gunz quickly opened one of the gates.
As the vehicle came up to the exit, Bruno nodded to his brother who closed the gate behind him. For a few minutes, he waited out of sight just up the street while Gunz kicked on the power again. Then, when he saw the lights come on, he eased the car forward and watched the fence where they’d come in until he saw Gunz climbing over.
For just a heartbeat, Bruno’s fingers tightened around the soft leather of the wheel and a ghost of a smile washed over his lips. No witnesses. No evidence. No conviction. Bruno reeled off his brother’s mantra in his mind as Gunz approached the car.
This was the fifteenth or sixteenth time Bruno and his older brother had done this, and the setup was perfect. Flawless. They were like a well-oiled machine when they tag teamed. No frills. No mess. On the average run, they could jack six cars. And that could bring them three thousand dollars a night, cash in hand.
Too good to be true? Too good to last, Bruno often wondered. Still, he tried not to think about it, knowing that he wouldn’t be stealing cars forever. He’d move up the ranks soon enough. Time would take care of that.
When his partner got close, Bruno leaned over and pushed open the passenger door.
Gunz leaped inside then slammed the door shut.
Jamming the wheel right, Bruno burned rubber leaving the place towards the highway. As they stormed onto the main road, Bruno floored it. He laughed triumphantly. The job may have been mind-numbingly easy, but the thrill in his veins never died. He loved it, but not everyone around him did. His father had warned him of this destructive streak. Told him, ‘once organized crime gets into your bones, it doesn’t get out again. You change on a cellular level until you need it like your blood needs oxygen.’ And he was right. In spite of that, Bruno knew that walking on the cutting edge of a knife was what he did best. So, what in the world was wrong with playing to your strengths? Besides, was there really any straight and narrow path out there for the son of a mob boss? Of course not. It was in his DNA as much as it was in his father’s.
As the beast roared down the highway, it sent the cool night air jet streaming into the car through the smashed out window.
Gunz swore. “Bruno! You fucked up the window. AGAIN.”
Bruno glanced over at him.
“Leave it to you to break the window when you got the tools and skills you need to pick a goddamn lock!” Gunz grumbled.
“Yep. Any lock in less than ten seconds flat. But where’s the fun in that?” Bruno scoffed. “Picking locks is for pussies!” He glanced at his brother again, a grin curling on his lips beneath his black balaclava.
Gunz barked a laugh. “HA! Well, I like to keep things a little more subtle. I’d rather keep my ass out of jail, thank you very much.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“AND I wouldn’t mind not losing a few hundred on each job every time you do that,” Gunz retorted.
Bruno made no reply, eyes narrowing on the clear road runway of tarmac ahead. Closing his foot down on the accelerator, he watched the speedometer climb past eighty miles per hour.
“Lighten up, bro. We’ve done this enough times before,” Bruno said finally. Relaxing his shoulders, he switched on the car audio. It was as simple as breathing to him as he sped away to the beat of Africa, Toto singing from the cassette player, oblivious to the unmarked Lancia pulling out of the shadows of the layby.
Suddenly, a double shaft of light pierced the darkness from the right, slashing into Gunz’s eyes. Out of nowhere, a lone police car peeled up on their path.
Gunz nudged Bruno, anxiously scrubbing his face with his hand. “Shit. We’ve got company.”
Bruno punched off the radio. “What do those fucking ass wipes want?” He growled from behind the wheel.
“Hmmm, let me take a wild motherfucking guess. How about... maybe they heard the music you shouldn’t have been playing through the busted window you shouldn’t have broke! How about they saw the busted window and wanna know how the fuck that happened. That settle your curiosity?” Gunz sneered.
“Quiet! I’ve got this,” said Bruno. Abruptly turning off into an unlit side road, he checked the rear view to see how much distance he had between him and them.
Gunz growled. Removing his holster, he tossed it out the window, then snatched Bruno’s .22 calibre pistol from his belt and chucked that too.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Bruno barked, turning again and doubling back on himself.
“It’s dark out fool! They didn’t see me throw them.”
“I didn’t ask you to throw my gun, I asked you to shut up,” Bruno gritted, mounting the pavement as he veered left this time back onto the main road in the opposite direction.
“Motherfucker! Ahh! Shit!!” Gunz yelled as he was thrown about.
“Shit.” Through the rear window, Bruno saw the car gaining on them in hot pursuit.
Quickly, he shifted into high gear and sped onto a diverging road away to safety.
Bruno rounded the corner and raced away. The sirens diminished as Bruno and Gunz roared through the night.
Bruno looked puzzled. “I think we lost them.”
The two men glanced at each other and blew out the breath they’d been holding then focused their eyes back on the road.
“We can’t go back home, not yet,” Gunz said.
Bruno nodded. “I’ll call one of the guys, see if they can pick her up tonight.”
Gunz agreed. Having arranged a pickup spot, the two men pulled into a watering hole a few miles south and parked out the back. They then swiftly pulled off their balaclavas.
They moved quickly inside and towards their regular table. The bar itself was as dismal as downtown, but it was a place to have a drink where no one knew them. The bar was empty, quiet. The two men often drank in the taverns outside of town, drinking beer and occasionally scotch. Gathered around their table, they raised their glasses to a job well done.
They left the vehicle in the parking lot out back with the keys in it. They’d earn $400-500 from their parking lot loot tonight.
Bruno took out his lighter and lit up a smoke. It was a waiting game, and for the first time, nobody showed to collect the car. Instead, Bruno received a call from the bosses….there wouldn’t be any pick up this evening. Apparently, there were too many cops on the street tonight, but they didn’t explain why. So, the brothers would have to keep the vehicle safe until morning.
When the two men finished their drinks, they called it a night and left.
Back on the road, Bruno headed for their home in central Sicily. He loved Corleone. Warm, picturesque and peaceful, it had a rich natural beauty. A city unpretentious and homely. A stronghold for the mafia, it was known for its dangerous city residents, but it would always be home to Bruno. The family lived in a mansion, but inside the home, the family was pretty normal.
A few minutes into their drive, a police car shot past them like a formula one racer just as fast as Bruno could register what it was. An ambulance followed seconds after.
The last stretch of road before they came to their home was pitch dark, but there were flashing lights up ahead. As they neared home, sirens screamed back at them.
Both men stared in wide-eyed shock as police units and medics raced to the scene.
“What they doing?” Gunz wondered aloud, lifting his head out the passenger window, trying to see over the crowd.
“What’s going on?” Bruno asked. Pulling up on the curb, he killed the engine and rummaged in the glove compartment looking for a flashlight.
There was an ambulance and a world of other people out there. People, local residents were gathered in the street. Shadows were everywhere.
The two men rushed out of the car and ran across the street, then through the shrubbery in their front yard with officers while hearing the click of the media cameras.
They emerged at the front door. “No. Hell NO.” Bruno roared
in a deep, savage voice. He ran closer, shoving men and women aside.
“Fuck,” Gunz grunted. “Whoever did this, let’s go find them! I’m gonna find them!” He declared.
Bruno held his brother back. “Oh, they’ll get what’s coming to them.” His breath caught, and he silenced himself. Betraying emotion was off the table. That would show weakness and he wouldn’t let that happen again. The world never saw Bruno De Luca’s anger, but it was there.
The horror of the situation was only just dawning on him as he saw his mother. She stood in shock and horror, lights whirling, having a full out meltdown. When he called her name, her eyes followed his voice and she rushed over to him. Throwing his big arm around his mother’s shoulders, he kissed her hairline. It hurt like a son of a bitch to see his mother like this. Bruno tried to ignore it by tightening his arms around her.
“Why?” she muttered into his chest.
Bruno listened quietly as his mother told him what had gone down that night. As she spoke, his eyes settled on a gurney carrying a big, black body bag being transported into the back of an ambulance and his heart froze in his chest. An image that would burn itself forever in his memory. A reminder of how quickly things could change.
Chapter Two
Just like that…
* * *
One week later…
* * *