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Alejandro I dislike video calls so much but, in this day and age, even the elderly people have adjusted to it better than me. We’re currently on a video call from Mexico with the twin brothers, Caracciolo, whom are trusted, since the rule of our empire under my father, Maximo. Vincenzo, the elder brother and my father’s partner in crime, is puffing on his cigar while he speaks to Angelo about Jon. His brother, Salvatore, with a steely gaze, blinked, waiting for Angelo to confirm that the guy they had in question was not Jon after all. Mafia via video chat. Aemon had flown across to find Jon’s whereabouts and linked up with the brothers when word got to us that he was found. But he called us after finding the guy, saying he wasn’t Jon after all. The brothers didn’t take his word for it and caught the man, then video-called us to confirm what Aemon said. Aemon decided to stay back and continue his search. Word out on the street was that Jon sent men to find us. Of course, I know it’s just made up, but Angelo is on edge. Paolo and Thomas sit behind the tablet screen, but I get up and pace the floor of our father’s office when we say no, the bloodied guy isn’t Jon. Both men are old with greying long beards but hold an aura that commands attention effortlessly. Their posture and gestures were assertive yet calm, unlike my brother at the moment. “Salvatore, dobbiamo trovare Jon. Non possiamo permettere che un ex dipendente rubi da noi e se ne vada impunito." (Salvatore, we need to find Jon. We cannot allow a former employee to steal from us and get away with it.) I get it that Angelo is angry, but his tone suggests he wants Jon’s life, which doesn’t sit well with me. Salvatore nodded grimly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "Hai ragione, Michele. Jon non può nascondersi per sempre. Troveremo un modo per farlo emergere dalle ombre." (You're right, Michael. Jon can't hide forever. We'll find a way to make him emerge from the shadows.) Holding onto my brother’s hand, I hope that he understood that he was taking it too far, but he is hot-tempered today and ignored me. Angelo is the head of our family and I cannot go against him. Vincenzo leaned forward, his voice low and dangerous. "Dobbiamo inviare un messaggio chiaro a chiunque pensi di tradirci. Nessuno sfugge alla famiglia." (We need to send a clear message to anyone who thinks of betraying us. No one escapes the family.) Salvatore's jaw clenched with determination. "Lo troveremo e lo faremo pagare. Nessuno mette in pericolo i nostri affari e resta impunito." (We'll find him and make him pay. No one jeopardizes our business and gets away with it.) Nodding, Angelo hangs up the call. No, I think mama should pull on Angelo’s reins a bit. Even our other two brothers have agreed he seemed to be on edge lately. We wondered if it was something between him and Tami. Three days later, we flew out to Mexico. Peter, Thomas, Angelo and Marcus. We each take turns staking out a couple of places that Jon has been rumoured to be spotted in. A week later, I am tired and want to go home. I could have spent this time in Maya, I confided in Aemon and he grimaced. She called me that night, questioning why I hadn’t called her. I did call her, but I did so during the day, when I was not busy searching for this rat, Jon because I needed to be free from all obligations when I was out scoping. The conversation earlier was about her brother and what she had asked me to do. And since she called again, I know something is bothering her. “I feel like I miss you the more I talk to you, Ale.” Her words warmed my heart, but then I noticed her tone was quiet, and my alarm bells went off. But I cannot have this type of conversation with her when I am on stake duty. Currently, I am set up in a strip club and a redhead is eyeing me. She could smell the foreigner in me, possibly because of my height and appearance. I refuse to dress in incognito as my brothers put it. “Baby, I want to see you-” “Do you?” Her quiet tone was almost saddening, and I could sense something was wrong. Aemon is at the bar, a bit disguised, although I highly doubt Jon would recognise him and foot it out. Aemon never really visited the warehouse where Jon was set up to work, hence the reason why he was chosen to fly out here, ahead of us. “Have I made a little monster out of you, vita mia?” It’s me she wants, and it’s pleasing to know. My d**k twitches in excitement when I recall how her body feels. All warm and ...sensational. Fcuk, she even had me thinking of beautiful words to describe her. Someone looking like Jon walks in, and I bend my head, turning to Aemon to signal him, but he is busy flirting with the bartender. “I want you like you could not possibly understand Ale. I feel...sometimes I feel like I’m suffocating here, and I need to see you, but it’s not enough.” Closing my eyes briefly, I allow her words to wash over me, relaxing my mind a bit. Sometimes, a man needs to hear certain things from his woman, to complete him, I realized then. Something to look forward to when this dread is over. Crouching down deeper into my seat, I tell Maya that I cannot talk now and that I will call her tomorrow. I cannot do so tonight because she needs to sleep, and she will be by the time I am done here. Besides, I want her to open up to me about why she wanted me to talk to Anthony without any of their family near because he seemed fine to me. When we both will be free from any distractions. Jon tips his hat at the other bartender and makes his way to a table, looking around until I see a broad smile appear on his face. A black-haired waitress with jugs the size of...big, makes her way to him. “Honey, can I get you another drink?” The redhead purrs closely to my ear, in Spanish, and I jump back, staring at my empty glass of club soda. “Maya, it’s not-” I begin to defend what I know she will be thinking. “Are you with another woman, right now?” Her tone went up and I grimaced. “No- she just-” I cannot say stripper. “She’s no one.” Maya remains quiet for some seconds and I eye Aemon at the bar again. “While you are out with no one and getting yourself to fcuking c*m, I am stuck here!” she yells angrily, and I squint as I pull the phone away from my ear. Jon is now seated at the nearest chair to a pole where a female is giving him the time of his life. Raising the glass, I mouth my drink to the woman, who nods and leaves me in peace to defend myself from my wife's accusation. “Baby, I cannot talk now-” “Busy getting your d**k sucked Ale?” What and where is this language coming from? Maya does not speak this way- “Are you drunk?” She hangs up.