◆ Contingency Plan ◆

The Falco Estate

Umbria, Italy

◆ MILES ◆

"You're not coming to the party?"  I asked the question before sitting next to my older cousin in his favorite patio, minding the dark half-circles under his light blue eyes and the semi-permanent scowl on his mouth.  After that awfully long travel by car, I should be the one sulking and making faces, but I caught Ricchar at a bad time today.

Well, he was still working despite being stuck home all month long.  Perhaps Ricchar was more stressed than usual by his current responsibilities in the family business.  Plus, Cloe being pregnant and mostly bedridden for the time being...

"Cloe doesn't want me to leave," Ricchar muttered, his eyes busy on his phone.  His outfit today was a simple black tracksuit with white stripes on the unzipped front, not very "businessmanly" like his usual get-ups, but at least he looked comfortable.

"But she's doing better now?"

"Yeah. She can get out of bed on her own now. Even cooked dinner last night."

"Good." I sighed, quite relieved that nothing serious happened to Cloe and the baby after Cloe's unexpected bleeding the previous month.  "What did the doctor say again?"

"It's just her age. Told me I was too slow and should've got her pregnant before she turned 30."

"What a dick..." I snickered.  "But, you were trying. Right?"

"Not really." Ricchar shrugged casually.  "She didn't want kids yet. Didn't want to force her."

"You heard about Ilya being sick?"

"Yeah." Ricchar glanced at me with a straight face.

"Nicco told you?" I asked, quite skeptical.

Ricchar and Niccolo didn't really talk much.  It was quite obvious Ricchar didn't trust Niccolo yet.  Well, I couldn't blame my cousin for thinking Niccolo wasn't one to be trusted.  After all, Niccolo's still directly involved with our clan's enemies—Ilya Božić being one of them.

"No. I made him sick."

"What?" I gawked at Ricchar.

"Paid someone to poison him. At least twice."  Ricchar smirked and kept busy on his phone.  He sat with his elbows on the armrests and looked like he was texting.  "Tough piece of shit, that one."

"Poison?"

"Sometimes, people like us need to show people like him how to grow some conscience and humility."

I grinned and shook my head.

Clearly, Ricchar still hadn't moved on from what happened to Cloe and Enzo after that ambush Ilya had orchestrated.  No charges were filed against the mob boss due to lack of hard evidence, but, Ricchar's guys and Niccolo all confirmed it was Ilya who plotted that heinous crime.

"Because of what...his guys did to Cloe?"

Still busy on his phone, Ricchar raised his brows and sighed  before answering.  "Maxim, when someone messes with the only thing that really matters in your life, seeing her bleeding to death and helpless in your arms..." A scowl  compressed his lips into a thin line, his voice deceivingly calm despite his scornful tone.  "It puts certain things into perspective. Y'know what I mean?"

Well, shit.  Who was I to argue his opinion?  I sat still while Ricchar stared at me with his baggy, tired eyes.

Eyes that had seen so much.  Money.  Lots of it.  Letdowns.  Unbridled violence.  Countless lives lost to crime.  Selfishness and pure evil.  Sick, tormented souls headed straight for eternal damnation...

It was no secret between me and him that Ricchar's the one stepping into Pappa's shoes sooner or later.  Not me—my parents' firstborn and only son.  The rightful heir.

Did I hate Ricchar for it?  Not at all.   I should thank Ricchar for taking my place just to appease my father's worries of having no rightful heirs to take over the family business in the next generation.  Ricchar was privy to Pappa's longtime transactions with the notorious crime groups here in Italy.

In fact Ricchar had been one of Pappa's most trusted yes man for years.  My cousin was also a people-person kinda guy—my total opposite.  He knew how to get into people's heads and, eventually, he easily used it to his advantage.  To our advantage.  He also had a natural streak for making more money for the family business.

But if it was a matter of life and death, I would always trust Ricchar and his judgment.  I always took his word more seriously than my father's.  Just how it was between me and Charr.   "Who else knows about it?"

"The girl I paid, of course," Ricchar mumbled with a milder frown.  "One of his whores, and victims."

"What kind of poison? Cyanide?"

Ilya could very well be another pureblood vampire, like Pappa Stefano, according to rumors.  What could possibly damage Ilya's almost superhuman health?  Was he not immune to certain poisonous chemicals?

"Among other things," Ricchar sighed and resumed typing something onto his phone.  "Did you talk to Lorenzio yet? About what Ignazio wants for the party?"

"Yeah." I sat back and tried not to make a face.  Should I also mention the latest argument I had with Enzo?  Nah.  It didn't matter.  For now.  Nicco had assured me Mykaela had already left the hotel.  Enzo also drove her back to her place but the guy didn't stay a while, according to their phones' location tracking logs.

"And?" Ricchar glanced at me.  "What did Enzo say?"

"Things his uncle doesn't like.  Booze and drugs that old creep prefers..."  I almost rolled my eyes.  No point pretending I enjoyed fulfilling the new task my father gave me.

Ricchar knew me like the back of his hand.  He could spot my lies from half a mile away.  He'd mentioned his nose was 15 times more sensitive than an ordinary human's sense of smell.

I didn't doubt him on that.  Although I hated this vampire curse, sometimes I also wished I had some uncanny superhuman abilities like him, Pappa and Mamma.  Sadly, my luck ran out on that aspect.  Or perhaps I just didn't know yet.

Well, consuming other people's blood still got rid of the stupid pain attacks in just seconds like a magic pill, and that one-way telepathic thing with Mykaela was still going on.  But if those were the only things my "pureblood abilities" included...

That sucks, because I wasn't planning on being her husband.  Or a life-long partner.  Not once did I aspire to be anyone's husband, for that matter.  She wanted and needed a different life for herself and her family—not this dangerous mafia life I was stuck in.

Being a ride-or-die chick for a criminal millionaire's problematic son wasn't on her priority list, to put it simply.  At least that much I knew.

"Just don't let them trash Serrafim all weekend." Ricchar crossed his legs as he kept up his frown.

Well, of course I wouldn't let those creeps have too much fun during Ignazio Tomassini's retirement party on our newest cruise ship.  I might even join the fun, but only if Leandro wouldn't be there.

My slippery grip on my temper might loosen quick if I saw that psycho in person again.  My life right now was far from what I wanted for myself, but, I didn't plan on going straight to prison for murdering a mafioso wannabe.  Not yet.

"You coming to the party?" Ricchar asked after a long silence.  The cool late-afternoon wind was blowing his wavy hair all over his face, and the dewy smell of the large labyrinth near the patio also reminded me of the last time I was here in the estate.   "Tell your guys to take photos before, during and after the party, just in case," he suggested with a knowing smirk.

To get more evidence.    But he didn't need to say more.  "Already told Alessio."

"You won't be there?"

"Depends," I muttered while staring at the dimming cloudy sky.  I knew Pappa would be glad to attend Ignazio Tomassini's birthday party, and Pappa would definitely take Mamma with him to schmooze with the Tomassinis all weekend.  I just wasn't in the mood to pretend—even just for one night—that I wanted to be there with those big-time crooks Pappa proudly called his "business partners".

"What about Lorenzio and his girlfriend?" Ricchar asked.

"I dunno. He's avoiding his brother, he said."

"Why?" Ricchar frowned at me.  "I heard he proposed to Libby.  Olivia Roche, that textile tycoon's first daughter."

Proposed?  I scoffed, surprised by the news.  "Who told you?"

That two-timing son of a bitch...

Did Enzo seriously think Mykaela would want to be his side chick?  That egotistic asshole.  Just couldn't keep his pants zipped for too long, apparently.  I was one to talk, but...did he really think he could talk Kel into being his mistress?

"Rafa, his best friend. He was here two weeks ago," Ricchar murmured before putting his phone on the round table in front of us.  "What? Lorenzio's still hanging out with Kel?"

"Yeah." I held back another scowl.  "Two-timing prick."  Hopefully I scared Enzo enough by warning him about Ilya's plans.  If my secondhand death threats actually worked, Enzo might permanently stay away from Mykaela from now on.

At my insult, Ricchar chuckled and grabbed his glass of wine.  "How'd you find out? Niccolo still spying on him?"

"Yeah, and we're still tracking her phone."  Mainly because I could no longer afford to pay for a security escort to keep an eye on Mykaela 24/7 in New York.

"Don't overreact." Ricchar kept grinning after taking a sip of his red wine.  "Maybe he just wants to stay friends with her."

It sounded stupid, but, there was also a slim chance it could be true.  "Highly doubt it, but let's see."

"Tell Alei to use a good camera," Ricchar advised with a half-grin that lifted the corner of his days-old beard.  "Record some videos if possible."

"Yeah. His guys will," I replied, recalling the instructions I gave Alessio, the head of my security detail.

The other guys would be there at the party earlier than the special guests.  They would take a lot of photos and record videos to get more solid evidence.  To build a strong case against that family of billionaire outlaws,  we needed to collect tangible proof of the Tomassinis' mob connections, especially photos of Ignazio Tomassini hanging out with their business associates who were mostly well-known mafia families here in Italy.

"If you'll be there, hang around till you see Ignazio stewing in hard liquor." Ricchar laughed and grabbed his phone again.

"And drowning his barely legal hookers in caviar, while huffing their new drug?"

"Appunto." Ricchar pointed a finger at me.  "It's called Odiax."

[Exactly.]

"What?"

"O-dee-yaks," Ricchar drawled.  "Leandro's obsessed with his new girl,  Alodia.  It's already got a street name: D-Lux."

"Deluxe?" I muttered while squinting at his smirk. What a stupid name...

"Remember when Lorenzio told you Leandro tried to buy the majority shares?"

"Yeah. Luxoria shares."  I recalled that casual comment Enzo dropped during that awkward lunch with Mykaela in New York.

Enzo had mentioned that his older brother wanted to buy out Luxoria by purchasing more than 50 percent of the stocks,  Luxoria being our family's longtime hotel chain business.  Shit.  Now it's clear to me why.

The business-savvy psycho most likely planned to use our hotel chain to traffic drugs and young prostitutes.  Use our hotels for his nasty crimes aside from his newly acquired strip clubs.  Savvy, forward-thinking businessman—I'd give him that.

"You know why it didn't happen?" Ricchar squinted at me after grinning at something on his phone.

"No."

"Your Pappa didn't agree to sell more than 50, because he wants you to run the business soon."

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