The Hidden Trillionaire Mafia Lord

Chapter Six

When Levi arrived, the gala had already began in full swing. He was dressed in a closed necked camoflauge shirt.

And as he made his way through the crowd of dancers; a hand, soft and cold, gently gripped and pulled him aside.

“Levi, there you are!” said a soft feminine voice. He turned to face her; and oh GOD! She was beautiful, the kind of beauty that would make Angels wish they were humans.

“I insisted on meeting you,” she said, breathing a little excitedly. “My name is Emilia Yugoslav, daughter of General Yugoslav. My father spoke highly of you today.”

Levi cracked a smile. He didn't know the General had a daughter.

Her auburn hair was decently pinned back and her gown, elegantly floral, such that it swirled with pride whenever she turned.

“Did you really suggest that strategy which my Dad and other Generals speak so much about?”

“Well…” Levi caressed the back of his neck.

Emilia laughed, warm and cascading. “My father called it the most tactical move he had seen so far. Too clean and precise.”

He shook his head modestly, he could see the admiration in her eyes. “I’ll just say, experience taught me a lot about situations like that.”

She hesitated. “My father believes you're an errand boy. Is it true?”

The question got him cornered. He was a low key wealthy MafiaLord of the Eastern Front who is setout to save Hogano's wife. It would be foolish to blow his whistle to a talkative girl he just met.

“I would choose to believe what your Father believes in.”

She smiled and nudged him on the arm. “How do you find our women here in Italy… or do you prefer brunettes?”

Women… Levi held back. Brunettes were okay, likewise Latinas.

The both laughed until a sharp crack pierced the air.

A wounded mafia stumbled into the ballroom, security trying hard to stop him. His cloack was bloodied and torn. He leaned against a pillar, gasping for breath, eyes wild and raw as he nodded to the assembled Generals.

“The men” he coughed, voice hoarse. “Our cover has been blown.” He coughed again. “They return… with the mafialord Hector Moreau.”

Gasps rippled and gasses dropped. The jubilation snapped like a taut cord.

General Yugoslav staggered forward, hand pressed to his chest. Levi's strategy had failed woefully. The men who went undercover as courier men to intercept the buyers, have been captured by the fierce mafialord who works for Bonanno and Gambino – Hector Moreau.

From a corner, General Griggs stared mockingly at Levi, the type of stare that meant “I told you so.”

Maurice's arms were folded with silent glee and satisfaction, he had waited all evening for this good news. Jennifer's lips curled in a soundless chuckle, she was glad her ex-husband’s idea had failed like an unprepared student in a scholarship examination.

They drew near Levi and unleashed their mockery.

“Well done on your brief triumph. Now how shall we grant you a second act of glory?” General Griggs mocked first, then Maurice followed.

“Our master strategist has failed again, but this time on a global level. What a brief success.”

Then Jennifer added, like insults into injury. “In marriage, you failed. In wealth, you failed. In keeping a woman, you failed. Even in rescueing a damned woman, you also failed. Are you and success sworn enemies?

Levi didn’t speak. He stared at them, gathering strength from his own rage and disappointment.

The crowd parted, murmuring, as everyone began heading towards the door.

Yogoslav turned to his daughter, “Emilia, go home, this isn’t your burden tonight.”

She nodded reluctantly, eyes on Levi as she began walking away in sympathy and fear.

Yugoslav turned to Levi. “You, I don't want to see you close to the command room. It was your strategy that led us into this mess.”

And with that, they stepped into their armoured cars and zoomed towards the command room.

Outside, Levi leaned on the cold stone wall. Then two figures came running down the walkway toward him, their legs rushing with urgency. Levi couldn't recognize their faces.

Damned, it was the disease.

One of the runners bowed when he came to a halt.

“Supreme mafialord! Urgent intel, Hector Moreau is back and our plan to intercept the buyers has been exposed. It is a matter of time before he blows our covers.”

Who are these people?. Levi wondered.

Levi was confused. “Who are you two and what are you talking about?”

The men looked at each other.

“We're the spies you sent earlier to survey the terrain… Sir.”

Levi squinted at them. The men’s faces were sweaty, disheveled and unrecognizable. His heart twisted. He knew he had sent spies, trustworthy men, but these faces struck no memory. Or was it the disease playing tricks on him again?

He couldn't risk it, now that everywhere was crawling with detty spies. He seized the two spies and they struggled.

“Supreme mafialord, wait!… you must hear us!...”

Levi clicked a handcuff on the first. “Silence. I’ll have to lock you up untill your identity is verified. No hard feelings though.”

The second agent tried to plead. “You sent us…you know our voices... My name is Eric… and this is my brother, Moore. We are loyal. Sir!”

Levi clicked the second cuff. “Why do you look like different?”

The shorter man replied, trembling. “We changed our camouflage, sir... Forgive us, we are yours.”

In that moment, Levi saw fear, loyalty, and desperation in their eyes. He also felt the weight of his failing memory.

“You will remain lockedup until I can confirm your identities. No freedom until then.”

They nodded, relief mingled with doubt.

Levi sank against the wall, closing his eyes a moment. His disease was getting worse by the day. Faces were becoming harder to pinpoint, nowadays.

His phone buzzed, it was Emilia Yugoslav

Hold on, how did she get his number?

Her message read:

I MISS YOU. WILL YOU COME TO THE KRITIANO PARTY TONIGHT?

Italy was a funny place; what kind of city hosted a gala and a party everyday?

Of course he would go to the Kritiano party, but the problem was recognizing her face. He didn't trust his brain enough.