Page 43 of Savage Don

That catches Silvio off guard.

“Help?”

Glaring directly at him, I make him squirm for a little while before I get on with it. “It’s insulting that you think I wouldn’t know what’s happening in my own kingdom.”

The bald Italian is already sweating, and the vagueness of my accusation only adds to the downpour. I can practically see the worried thoughts racing through his swelling mind.

“Sir?” Silvio gulps, not ready to commit to anything quite yet. He thinks he can still worm his way out of this. No chance.

“Fetch Domenico. I’m sure he’ll know what I’m talking about.”

The idea of pawning this sensitive subject off on his boss seems to finally motivate the chubby old Italian. “Uh, yes, sir. He should be in his office. I’ll go get him. Please wait here.”

“I think I’ll come with you.”

Silvio’s cheeks turn beet red as I stare him down. These Italian fucks think their slithery like snakes. Really, they’re just slimy like slugs. Conquering them shouldn’t be this complicated—they’re idiots—but I know I have to be careful.

Everything is on the line.

“Very well, sir,” Silvio finally gives in.

Sinking his shoulders, he leads the way down a tight hallway and then up a set of winding stairs.

For such a big property, this place sure is a mess. Every inch of the crimson wallpaper looks like it’s about to peel, and the already thin hallways are littered with oversized paintings and marble busts.

Italians are so fucking tacky. Especially the old money ones.

I wonder if all of this was a stylistic choice by Domenico, or if he’s just run out of money and can’t afford to renovate?

Fuck. That was a spicy bit of info Francesca let slip earlier. Domenico is going broke.

She’s already paying off.

Turning down another corner, we just narrowly miss a group of five goons as they rush past us, radios blaring, panic lacing every step they take.

The sight nearly makes me smile.

Good. The Italians should be panicking. They’ve gotten too comfortable over the years.

When the panicked footsteps fade into the distance, I hear what they were running from.

Domenico’s booming voice can be heard even from behind the thick wooden doors of his office. He’s yelling like a man who’s about to lose everything.

If only he knew just how much that was.

“Would you please wait out here for just one second while I… uh, alert Mr. Galli to your presence.”

For as fun as it is to watch an Italian squirm, I throw Silvio a bone and nod my head.

“Don’t leave me waiting long, now.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

With that, Silvio knocks out a secret code on the thick wooden doors. A few seconds later, someone opens up, and he slips inside, glancing back over his shoulder to give me one last frightful look.

The fear I inspire in him is delicious.

In the past, I’d never get this kind of respect unless I physically ripped it out of someone. Now, I can walk around with clean hands and be treated like a king. It’s something I’m trying not to get used to, because there’s still a chance it could be taken away. But it’s hard not to get addicted to the feeling of power.