The Alpha Mafia King
Chapter 6

Mazza, Alonso’s grandfather, had been expecting his grandson to come back home to Sicily, Italy, the very next day after his business trip to Moscow. Taleela and the cook had gotten chatty, and he felt thankful.

However, Taleela got so bored of staying indoors. Yesterday, he had taken her shopping. He bought her a new phone, hair, make-up and ordered some new clothes from his grandson’s conglomerate company, La Corporation De Sina.

Taleela was very excited, and she thanked him profusely. Even if Alonso had not accepted her yet, Mazza had already begun treating her like his granddaughter. She still could not recall anything from her past life.

Today, Mazza had taken her to Galleria dell’Accademia (Academy Gallery), an art museum in Florence. Michaelangelo’s best-known work, David, was copied all over Florence, but inside this art museum was where one could replace the original. David was not the only Michaelangelo here, nor was it the only influential masterpiece.

Mazza had shown to her four unfinished slaves, meant for a tomb in Rome, seemingly in the process of being released from the marble.

“Ah-ha! That one is called David,” Mazza said sharply. “Unfortunately, due to an attack on the sculpture, they now keep it behind glass.”

“Wow, it looks captivating,” Taleela said. She appreciated Mazza taking her out on tour. David reminded her of a certain someone, Alonso!

“It sure is,” Mazza said, smiling.

“Hey Signor Mazza, what about your grandson Alonso? When is he coming back?”

Mazza sighed. “I’ll call him once we are done touring here,” he said, and Taleela nodded.

She was longing to behold his gorgeous face again even though she hated his character.

They finished their tour and came out of the museum, stepping into the sun that lit up Florence and all of its beauty. Taleela, not ever having any memory of ever being here, marveled once more. They got into the backseat of their ride, and Mazza, owing to his word, picked up his phone to call Alonso.

On the second ring, Alonso picks up.

“Hey, granddad,” Alonso said, excusing himself from Vladimir and Bianco.

They were standing in the airport waiting for the man Gleb had sent them to contact. He could not wait to behold the private Fathom X7 jet parked in the hangar, even though he knew he was only going to own it for a while.

“You said you’d be back today,” his grandfather said softly over the phone.

“Well, you see, something urgent came up,” Alonso said. “I think I’ll be spending a couple of more days in Moscow, so don’t hold your breath for me.”

“Whenever you say something came up, you’re usually up to no good; spill now, my boy,” Mazza bellowed.

“At the casino last night, I received a request from one of the players,” Alonso said, pacing around a short distance. “Long story short, he won twenty million and lost it in a bet to me, and also he placed a bet with his private jet and lost. I’m at the airport to claim it.”

“Sounds like you’re up to a whole lot, Taleela and I just finished a tour in Florence, where I took her to see Michaelangelo’s David. Since you’ll be back in a few more days, I think I shall take her to Rome. She got bored staying indoors.” Taleela’s eye widened at the mention of Rome.

“Very nice, granddad, and when you get to Rome can you replace somewhere to dump her,” Alonso said, in a duh tone

“I already told you I’ve taken her under my wings,” Mazza said, smiling at Taleela. ” I’m not going to leave her in Rome. She and I will be at the house, and we’ll both be waiting for you to return.”

Alonso g*****d; his grandfather’s talk about Taleela had made him forget to tell him the essential business that kept him in Moscow.

“Grandad, there’s something else about why I’m spending a few more days in Moscow,” Alonso stated. His eyes narrowed down to where Vladimir and Bianco were standing and discussing animatedly.

He caught the slender figure of a woman approaching them. Who the hell was she? He wondered.

“Alonso, what is it?” Mazza repeated a second time.

“Granddad, I’ll call you back!” Alonso shouted into his phone and ended the call abruptly.

“Which one of you is Alonso Marcovic?” said the woman in a thick Russian accent. The accent made him only remember Taleela and caused him to feel hate towards the stranger instantly.

Alonso arrived in time to answer, ” I’m Alonso. Who are you?” He resisted the urge to put —f**k before you.

“I’m Tatiana Venitovo, Gleb’s fueling agent,” she said, winking at him. “Come with me. The jet’s parked over there, and the aviation lawyer is waiting for you.”

Alonso muttered something profane, and Vladimir signaled for him to calm down. He was seething because the lawyer had sent for someone to get him rather than come out by himself. However, his anger melted when he saw that one of the man’s legs had been amputated. Also, the sight of the promised jet made him feel happy inwardly, but his face remained neutral with no expression.

Gleb did have a plane to gamble away. He was yet to receive words from the guy asked to do a background check for Gleb.

“Alonso Marcovic, I’m Feodor,” The man known to be the aviation lawyer called out to him with a smiling face. “I do not understand why Mr. Gleb is giving out his jet for free. I would have loved to see him personally to ask. I can’t seem to reach him on his private line. Do you have any idea where he might be at the moment?”

Alonso gulped. “Mr. Gleb is dead,” he announced bitterly and nodded to Bianco.

The media had carried the news, and Bianco was showing it to the aviation lawyer from his phone. Tatiana froze in her tracks upon hearing about the tragedy. She set down the gallon of fuel she was holding and walked down to take a look.

“Oh no!” she said, gasping and placing her hands on her chest.

The aviation lawyer’s face contorted in horror, and he said, “Damn! This is so sad; Mr. Gleb was a wonderful client.”

Last night, Vladimir had reported the case of Gleb’s suicide to the proper authorities. Gleb’s body was moved out of the casino. Then this morning, after an autopsy had been carried out, it was confirmed that it was indeed the cinad acid that killed him. The authorities accepted and marked it a suicide case, and the room was free to be used again.

“He committed suicide in the comp room he was given at my casino,” Alonso explained.

“I never knew my client was a suicidal man,” the lawyer responded, sounding so disheartened. “Well, Mr. Gleb said he is giving you the jet, and I do not know why but I will make sure I cover all the legal aspects of a successful handover.”

“Thank you, Mr. Feodor,” Alonso said. “Can we see the interior of the jet?”

“Well, of course, you can! Tata, please show it to them.”

Tatiana scowled at him. “Don’t call me that!” she barked.

Tatiana led the way, making sure to walk in a sexy attitude. They went into the jet, and Alonso nodded in approval of the luxurious setting. Vladimir looked thirsty as he eyed the inside, but Bianco was not interested. He looked bored.

“Oh, she’s an evil baby, and it looks soft,” Vladimir said.

“What?!” Tatiana turned abruptly to give Vladimir a scowl thinking he was referring to her a*s.

“Not you, I mean the jet,” Vladimir defended himself, and Alonso chuckled lightly.

“Be Careful about your choice of words, Vladimir,” Alonso warned.

“Hmm, Vladimir, that’s a nice name,” Tatiana remarked.

Vladimir cocked his head to the side and replied, “Thank you, miss.”

They went back to the aviation lawyer, and Alonso made some finalization. They were to meet the next day again, and Alonso would sign some documents with him. Alonso noticed how Tatiana had been staring at him. He disliked it. She wanted him to talk to her more. She was purposely flaunting herself in his direction, but he had paid no attention to her.

“Mr. Alonso!” Tatiana ran after him.

He paused. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you will be moving the jet to another hangar,” she said.

“You’re worried about your job?” Alonso asked, sighing.

“Yes.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve no intention of flying this thing,” Alonso said, a matter of fact. “I’ll sell it as soon as I can get a buyer for it. I don’t think I need an addition to the number of jets I have.”

“Oh, come on!” Tatiana cried out. “From one person to another, I quit!”

Alonso said nothing.

The Don and his friends got back into the car they had come in. Vladimir got a call from the guy profiling Gleb, and he said he had reached the necessary information. Vladimir asked if he had been able to track the killers of Mr. Gleb’s wife, but he said that he was still working on that. Vladimir asked him to send them promptly, which he did right after the call. Vladimir handed his cell phone over to Alonso to go through the details.

“Hmm, just as I had suspected,” Alonso said. “I might have known his father. The man happened to be killed by Callisto.”

“Callisto Beaumont?” Bianco blurted out.

“Yes, same Callisto who murdered my father and mother.”

“And are the people responsible for killing Mr. Gleb’s wife? Are they working with Callisto?” Bianco let out.

“No, I don’t think they have any connection,” Alonso said thoughtfully. “I feel that one is another separate beef, according to Mr. Gleb. It’s something more personal. Callisto had no beef with the Gleb, only his father.”

“Just like it was with you,” Bianco remarked sourly.

“Yes, just like that,” Alonso said. He felt a closer connection with Gleb seeing that they had suffered the same experience.

“Vladimir, after finalizing things with the Aviation lawyer, I’ll leave you and Bianco to see to it that Mr. Gleb gets his revenge.”

“Okay, boss,” Vladimir answered. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yes, I have other businesses to attend to back home in Italy,” Alonso said.

That night they stayed at Vladimir’s home. They were in the garden drinking wine underneath an array of stars. They were sharing some old-time fun memories. Vladimir’s phone rang, and the tracker had called to inform him that he had gotten to the location where the killers had been staying.

“Bianco, you know what to do,” Alonso said to the man after Vladimir had passed on the information.

“Yes, boss,” he replied. The men had just been placed with a button, and they knew not.

“Remember Gleb’s last wish,” Vladimir added. “Such hate, such bitterness, and such helplessness!” Gleb said that was how he imagined the death of his wife’s killer would look like.

“I remember,” Bianco whispered.

—

The following day Alonso had met with the aviation lawyer very early to sign some documents that would enable him to own the jet. Vladimir had accompanied him there while Bianco had gone to carry out his last night mission assigned to him by the Don.

Alonso boarded his private jet parked in his private hangar in Moscow back to Sicily. On getting home, he realized that his grandfather had indeed taken off with Taleela to Rome. Although he knew he would be expecting them the very next day. He wondered why not tonight, but he knew his grandfather always resisted the urge to travel at night.

He had not heard from the man all day, but he was equally not worried. His grandfather sometimes got lost in the moment. He loved to be present in whatever he was doing, and he never got distracted by anything, including his phone.

Alonso wondered, seriously wondered if his grandfather was not making a mistake taking up someone who had no idea who she was under his wings. Although, the connection he had felt to her was impossible to deny when he first met her.

Yet, still, he thought he knew not the first thing about love. Need him for a business; he was there! Need him to offer you protection, and he was your go-to man! I need him to get a mate. That was something he never imagined possible in his life.