Mafia From New Moon To Full Moon

Bobby DeLuca of the Italian Mafia was sitting at his cluttered desk vigorously finishing up the final paperwork so his grumpy old man could see he was capable of becoming the Alpha of the Mafia. His job was a feisty one, but he made sure every ounce of evidence burned alongside the bodies. Bobby was a ruthless killer; he has no remorse for those that defied the Mafia.

“Bobby, your Father Vincent is looking for you.” Mico the right hand of Bobby said coming into his office. He knew Bobby was tired and didn't want to be disturbed but when Vincent calls, you answer the call or be killed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bobby growled; he wasn't done, he wasn't going to be rushed. “I'll get up in a minute.” He said scribbling on the paper. “Finished.” He snapped getting up, pushing his oversized leather chair away from his legs. Bobby glanced at the Grandfather clock, as it hit noon, it chimed.

Mico waited at the door, he knew Bobby was pissed, and he didn't want to step over anything. Bobby rushed past him, the sooner he gave the paperwork to his Father the better.

Walking into his Father's office. “Here.” Bobby snapped. “You couldn't wait could you old man?”

His father turned to face him, a look of disgust. “No. You know I can't stand waiting.” He said snatching the papers out of Bobby's hands. He looked down. “A little nicer next time.” He growled throwing them on his neat desk. “Now sit.” He growled.

“For what?” Bobby growled. “You got the paperwork; I need a shower.”

Vincent rushed around the desk, grabbing Bobby by the throat, lifting him in the air. “When I tell you to do something, I suggest you do it.” He growled throwing Bobby into the chair. “You need to show your respect, remember I choose who is Alpha, and your attitude is showing me otherwise.” He said walking back around his desk. He took a seat and stared at Bobby for a minute. He was pissed.

Bobby sat up in the chair, rubbing his neck. “Now what?” he growled.

Vincent looked away from him, fishing into his desk drawer. “I have information about a Daughter of yours.” He snapped throwing the folder at him. “Explain it!” he demanded.

Bobby opened the folder, looking at the pictures. He recognized the woman but didn't remember her name. “I know her face, but don't remember her name,” he said throwing the folder on the desk. “I have no Daughter.” He growled. He was growing tired of this already, his body was dirty, he wanted to sleep.

“Oh, you have a Daughter.” Vincent snapped at him. “Do I need to teach you a lesson?” he said getting up and walking to the other side of the desk, he leaned against it. “My information is correct.” He snapped at Bobby. “You were a careless son of a bitch in New York fourteen years prior. The whore you paid got pregnant. What the hell were you thinking!”

Bobby thought about New York and fourteen years prior. The boys and he went and paid some girls, he was careful. He used protection. “I used protection, why now?” Bobby said shaking his head.

“Not.” Vincent smacks him upside the head. “You do realize the DeMarco family resides in New York City. Where you bought your whore.” He said shaking his head. “You need to get this right, bring the girl here. Hopefully Brenda your whore isn't with the DeMarco family, otherwise, a new war has started and you will have to finish this before it blows up in your face. DeMarco is a dirty son of a bitch.” He said walking to the window. “Get the girl here, and we'll finish with DeMarco later.” He said without looking at him. “I give you a month to handle this or I'll take you out.” He said turning to face Bobby. “Thirty days. Get out!” he growled.

Bobby walked out of the office, leaving the door open. He was pissed, he needed to find Mico and get this started. His father threatened his life. He knew this was serious business. Mico was waiting in Bobby's office.

“So?” Mico asked.

“I'm pissed.” He said throwing his wine glass at the wall. “I have a daughter.” He said punching the wall. “How the fuck do I have a daughter?”

“Where is this daughter?” Mico question, he stayed in the corner. When Bobby got mad, he was crazy.