The Boss (2P!Italy x Reader)

Chapter 13

Luciano

THE EXPECTED KNOCKING came just as I finished buttoning my vest. I picked up my jacket from the bed and greeted Flavio with an irritated scowl. He had changed out of his white suit and into something less flashy. Unlike me, he seemed excited for tonight.

He gave my form a quick scan, and I sighed when he didn't even bother to hide his disapproval. "What?" I said with a tired grunt. He shrugged.

"Nothing. It's just that didn't you wear that thing to the last meeting?"

"That was over a month ago"

Another shrug "Do as you please." He turned on his heel and motioned for me to follow him. As we made our way towards the conference room hidden beneath the ground, Flavio suddenly asked "Do you know the focal point of tonight's dinner party?"

"I'm assuming you're going to tell me"

He chuckled "And that's where you fail to know me"

I raised an eyebrow. Flavio was whimsical so I sort of saw this coming. "Fine, don't tell me"

"That's not something the next boss should be saying"

I couldn't care any less.

"If you don't know then I won't tell you."

We had already reached the door leading to the conference room. The two guards bowed their heads in respect and then let us in. Inside were figures in suits seated around the large wooden table.

Dinner party was a fancy term we used for a meeting between the underworld lords with their respective consiglieri and underbosses present. That applied to the Americans and most European houses, but everyone, including the Asians, had a similar ranking system.

In my family, I was the underboss and Flavio was the second counselor, because like it or not, my brother was one manipulative son of a bitch who knew exactly when and who to strike. There were protests from several of our men, but the boss' voice silenced everybody else's. Looking at it pragmatically, disowning a gifted negotiator like Flavio just because he was gay wouldn't be a smart move. That's why so many respected my grandfather, he may be the leader of a gang with a notoriously xenophobic and sexist history, he himself wasn't.

Flavio and I took our spot behind my grandfather's chair, next to the family lawyer, Klaus Beilschmidt. He nodded at us in silent acknowledgment.

Our older and first consigliere, Klaus wasn't even Italian, he was a German. However, he was our grandfather's childhood friend and easily grandfather's most trusted subordinate outside the family. Maybe not even that, maybe he's trusted even more than either Flavio or me.

I glanced around the room and saw an empty seat. Instead there was a man in a suit standing beside it.

If I recall correctly, he's the second-in-command to—

My grandfather rose from his chair to welcome the guests. One of them was Maria's father. He didn't look too pleased.

There was no stopping the satisfaction that tugged on my face, but I restrained it into a small smirk. I knew why he was so pissed. He spoiled his daughter rotten, but he was probably more angry that he lost the chance to overtake the Vargas House than he was with my breaking his precious princess' heart.

"It seems like we are all here, except . . ." My grandfather glanced at the empty seat.

The young man beside it bowed and then proceeded to explain "I'm afraid Miss Rosewater cannot attend tonight's dinner party. She is currently handling a personal affair." Wren Charleston. Secretary to the Rosewater CEO by day, professional killer and personal bodyguard by night. His boss was said to be a complete nightmare, but he never seems to have a hair out of place. "She sends her sincerest apologies"