About an hour later the Jaguar pulled up to the base of a massive industrial building. He didn’t need to know the name of the place and he wouldn’t have cared even if he didn’t know what’s name was. He got out of the car as Michael opened his door.
The underground parking complex was neatly lit with overhead florescent light rods that ran the length of the space. The cement and asphalt was kept insanely clean for a parking lot. The idea that anybody would be impressed or awed by a clean parking lot was ridiculous, but he had to admit that seeing the like new surface aroused some feeling in him, resentment maybe?
Ignoring the waste of time and effort that was a clean parking lot he strode over to the elevator. For him, this elevator only went to one place. He stepped inside leaving Michael in the garage. As the elevator doors closed a familiar voice spoke to him, “Ah, Kenneth, how are you?”
His master spoke perfect Italian, in his dialect. No, that wasn’t right it wasn’t a dialect, not exactly. Kenneth, of course, spoke Italian fluently as well but when he spoke with his master in his native tongue the years separating the two shone through in his master’s speech patterns. He used words oddly and there were sounds that seemed to be out of place somehow. Kenneth had no real trouble understanding his master but those nuances in his speech were something that flicked constantly on his conscious, like a wasp trapped inside a glass.
Kenneth knew he was being watched as well as recorded. He turned his face up to where the camera should be and smiled warmly, “I am doing well, Alessandro. How’s your tan this time of year?” He replied in Italian.
There was a hearty laugh from the intercom. “Oh, Kenneth it’s been too long.” There was a pause, “I’ll see you momentarily.” There was an audible click as the intercom system was turned off.
Kenneth smiled warmly as he lowered his head and allowed the smile to fall off his face like dumping a tray full of sand onto the floor. He hated Alessandro, though not the man himself. On the contrary Kenneth actually admired what the old Sicilian had been able to accomplish in just under forty years of being on this side of the pond.
How many innovations and how much of the fabled American growth, economic and political, was due not to American ingenuity, but rather because his people had chosen to rebuild their empires in the new world. This grated on Kenneth; the true power brokers his kind had become were formidable and yet he was still hiding in back rooms.
The elevator doors opened suddenly and Kenneth was forced to give his grudging admiration to his master’s office. It was the antithesis to Kenneth’s home; this place was sterile and gleaming. The windows, looking out over the innumerable lights of the city, were double sided mirrors. They were the only walls to the room. The black and white marble underfoot was polished to a mirror sheen. The furniture was simplistic, made of chrome metal. The chairs looked comfortable enough, with leather padding and armrests. The desk at the head of the room was a combination of glass and metal. The top allowed full view down into the contents of the drawers beneath. There was one carpet in the room. It sat directly under the desk and was large enough to accommodate the four chairs facing the desk. The black thick rug had razor thin lines of red that drew an intricate design that seemed to flow around the furniture on top of it.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Behind the desk, upright with his hands folded gently in front of his face was Alessandro Costa. He wasn’t very tall, 5 feet 8 inches maybe, but he carried himself with enough gravitas to make up for it. The man wore a dark blue black suit. His blue tie, tight and neat about his neck, was an aesthetic contrast to the black of his suit. His tanned skin had seen over three hundred years of life but someone looking at him would have guessed he was a well kept fifty year old. The fact that he was turned at such an old age is probably what had allowed him access to the higher circles of this society, or so Kenneth suspected. For some reason Americans worshiped youth but those in power only respected age.
Alessandro smiled as Kenneth walked the length of the room. “Kenneth.” He said rather warmly, “What do you have for me there? Surely not some type of weapon to kill me, eh?” The old man looked pointedly at the ledger in Kenneth’s hand.
Kenneth looked down at the ledger and offered it to the man sitting behind the desk without a word.
Alessandro looked hurt, “It was a joke, why the sour attitude?” Alessandro didn’t touch the ledger on the desk.
This was a game that he was just not in the mood for. “Alessandro, we both have better things to do than sit here and banter with one another over japes and nuance.” Kenneth sat down in one of the chairs without invitation. “The night is still young and I for one would like to get on with the things that I have to do.”
Alessandro arched his eyebrow. “And what might that be, Kenneth?”
Kenneth allowed a little fire to show in his face at being questioned and at himself for losing his temper. “Checking up on my contacts within the police organization for one.” Kenneth said coldly. “I’m not like you Alessandro. I actually have to work to maintain my power over these people. If I let them go too much or too long on their own, they start to think that they are better than me and can run things better without me. Cleaning up those situations are always messy… and time consuming.”
Alessandro held Kenneth’s gaze for a long minute. The older man’s brown eyes were heavy with years and knowledge. There was even a crafty sort of wisdom there. At moments like these he was reminded why Alessandro was the head of his house and what he had had to do to gain his position.
Suddenly the old man dropped his eyes to the ledger on his desk. He opened the casing and pulled out the documents and forms and receipts that Kenneth had brought to him. He shuffled through the papers in rapid order. In just under a minute Alessandro had reordered all of Kenneth’s papers and had them back in the thick ledger. Alessandro regarded his subordinate.