Page 2 of Killer Daddy (Fendi Mafia Daddies #2)

Michael

It wasn’t meant to be like this.

Not now. Not ever.

This isn’t how father was meant to go…

Michael Fendi felt a tear build in the corner of his eye.

But a quick wipe and a tightening of his jaw made sure that no more weakness would be on display.

With the wind howling around the graveyard and the gathered great and good from the Fendi clan in attendance, Michael knew that his father passing was a big deal in more ways than one.

With his dark hair and penetratingly dark eyes, Michael felt the freshly pressed confines of his black suit give him the strength to stand tall and maintain his composure.

This wasn’t an easy day. But Michael lived a life that few would describe as anything like easy.

There would be more funerals in the future, that was guaranteed.

Although, of course, there would only be one funeral for his father.

Ever since he was a young child, Michael had been aware that his father carried great significance in the family.

From the street thugs, to the bodyguards, all the way up to the very highest echelons of the family, Michael’s father commanded respect.

It was true that people feared him, but Michael could also see that people respected his father deeply too.

Often, Michael and his brother Faustino would find themselves getting into scrapes out on the streets even in their early teens.

But even the mention of their father’s name would see any would be attackers fall back in retreat.

And often, these very same people would later befriend the two Fendi brothers and make peace for fear of crossing their father.

And it was this sense of universal respect that made his father’s death all the more confusing to Michael.

He might have been a young man, but he knew enough about the code of the street to know that you didn’t simply rob and murder a known family member on the street.

That wasn’t what happened. The very idea that his father was murdered in cold blood by a random street hustler didn’t add up.

He might have been feeling raw and emotional from what happened, but Michael had enough sense about him to see that something wasn’t right. Far from it, in fact.

It’s in the air.

I can smell the bullshit.

Deception. Lies. Fucking treachery.

As his father’s coffin was lowered into the ground, Michael kept his head bowed and offered comfort to his grieving mother.

But even in this moment, Michael was trying to figure out how the apparent murderer had been caught so quickly and killed without so much as any kind of interrogation.

After all, with his father being such a high profile gangster, surely there was a chance that this was the work of another family?

‘Hold me tighter,’ Michael’s mother said, weeping as the soil began to fall onto her husband’s coffin. ‘Your father loved you. And he saw great things in your future. Just don’t let this moment define you, Michael.’

Michael simply nodded. Now wasn’t the time for words.

All Michael could feel was a numbness over his entire body.

Death was nothing new for Michael. Growing up in the Fendi family, he had been around murder all his life.

In fact, Michael’s father had taken a major role in schooling Michael on the very brutal realities of what it meant to live in this world.

But there was something about his father’s murder that put Michael on edge.

He was sad that he would never see his father alive again, but this was something that Michael had always expected to come one day.

It was the deeply held suspicion that coursed through his veins that was making this death feel like nothing Michael had ever experienced before in his life.

‘Michael, I know that look,’ his brother Faustino said, leaning in close to Michael and whispering as the gathered crowd began to disperse. ‘We’re thinking the same thing, aren’t we?’

‘I think we are,’ Michael replied. ‘But we do nothing about it. Not now. And not here. We have mother to think about.’

‘Agreed,’ Faustino replied. ‘But one day.’

‘One day, we’ll figure this out,’ Michael said. ‘And when that day comes, all hell will rain down on this damned city.’

With that, Michael, Faustino, and their mother took one final look at the grave as the final shovels of dirt were patted down on the ground.

Michael was young, but he was far from stupid.

He would avenge his father one day. It might take weeks, months, or even years.

But Michael Fendi would have his revenge…

PRESENT DAY

Hurry the hell up.

Eat your meal, drink your wine.

And get ready to die…

Michael ran his hands through his hair and let out a sigh of impatience. There might have been silver streaks in his temples these days, but at the rate this hit was going, Michael might be totally grey by the time his intended target met his doom.

The truth of the matter was that at forty-one years of age, Michael was about as experienced a killer as it was possible to be in the world of organized crime.

Michael was able to complete the kinds of kills that other hitman struggled to see to.

He was quick, efficient, and if necessary, he could be wicked too.

Some occasions would require working a beating into the equation before the final kill, and Michael was more than happy to stick to orders when it came to this.

It was simply part of the life. The way Michael saw it, if you weren’t comfortable with killing and causing pain, then you had no place in this world and you should seek employment elsewhere.

‘I guess the steaks must be something else in there,’ Michael muttered, adjusting the radio station on his car’s touchscreen. ‘Fuck it. I’ll listen to a podcast. At least I’ll be learning while I wait…’

As Michael continued to play the waiting game, he caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror.

He might have been into his forties, but there was no denying that he was still every bit as good looking as his younger self.

In fact, it could be argued that he was aging like a fine wine.

The silver streaks in his temples gave Michael a sophisticated charm, and his olive skin might have had the odd crease in it these days but it only served to add to his appeal as far as women were concerned.

Michael turned his head and watched as two boys in their early twenties walked by.

Dressed in short sports shorts and with tiny sports bras on top, the boys were undeniably cute.

But this was no place for them to be walking around like that.

It was a far from reputable neighborhood, and even in the early evening danger was usually lurking around the corner.

Those boys need a Daddy.

A Daddy to keep them safe, show them how to behave.

And a Daddy to spank some God damned sense into those peachy assess…

Michael allowed himself a wry smile. He might have been a Daddy, but there was no sign of a boy on the horizon – and there hadn’t been for some time either.

Michael was ready to meet a boy to settle down with and call his Little.

But finding a boy who could live with his very dangerous and murky lifestyle was a whole other thing.

As Michael figured it, he was always going to struggle to find someone who worked a normal job or lived a regular life.

After all, what could they possibly know or comprehend about how he lived?

Michael lived so far outside of society’s norms that he was even beginning to think that he might have to forget all about finding a Little to settle down with and stick to the occasional hookup in a kink club.

But there was one Fendi man who had found his boy, and that was Michael’s cousin Matteo. And speaking of which, Michael looked at his car’s touchscreen and saw a message from Matteo flash up…

MATTEO: I assume that you’re still at work, so I’ll keep this short. We’re meeting at Emperor Bar tonight. Whisky, chat, and future plans. Faustino is confirmed already. I know you won’t need an excuse once you’ve completed your task. Later.

Michael smiled and swiped the message off the screen. Matteo might only have been a couple of years older, but there was a wisdom to him that had always made him feel like an older brother rather than a cousin.

And now that Matteo was settled with his Forever Boy, it was like his maturity and clear thinking had hit even higher heights. That said, Matteo still enjoyed a drink, and Michael knew that the chances of him getting to bed before the very early hours were low to zero.

‘But what does he want to discuss?’ Michael asked himself, his mind wandering for a moment.

There had been plenty of rumors in recent months that something very serious was going down in the upper echelons of the city’s crime families.

There was always a threat of war, even in times of peace.

But this felt different. It was like there was something simmering underneath the surface in a way that Michael hadn’t experienced at any time over the last twenty years.

Father would know.

He always had an answer.

And maybe he just knew too much for some people…

Michael grimaced as his thoughts went back to his long deceased father.

Even twenty years after his death, Michael was still searching for a single clue as to what really happened.

Michael was still convinced that his father’s murder wasn’t at the hand of some low-down street hoodlum.

It just couldn’t have been. His father was too streetwise, too feared, and altogether too brutal to fall to some lowlife.

‘Fuck. Mind on the job. Focus,’ Michael grumbled, knowing that now wasn’t the best time to let his mind wander, even for a moment.

And it was a good job that Michael did manage to bring himself back into the world of the living. As he cast his eyes across the street, Michael saw the intended target walk out of the restaurant, a woman on each arm and a big, stupid smile on his face.

Hey, it’s not the worst way to go.

Two ladies, a stomach full of food.

And a bullet to the brain…

Michael put the car into gear and rolled out from his spot.

Making sure to keep his eyes on the target, Michael swung the car round and began to creep up behind him.

The city’s nightlife was beginning to kick into gear and amongst all the beeping horns, drunken revelers, and general hubbub, Michael knew that the sound of a silence pistol wasn’t likely to draw too much attention.

But a blood-splattered body collapsing into a heap on the sidewalk was a whole other matter of course…

‘Time to say goodnight,’ Michael said, slowing down and keeping one hand on the wheel while he turned and aimed the pistol in the man’s direction. ‘I’ll see you in hell.’

Michael fired off two quick shots, both of them hitting the man in the head.

There was a moment where time seemed to slow down and there was nothing but total silence – but just like that, the two women began to scream and shriek as their gangster date’s dead body twitched on the ground beneath their thousand dollar high heels.

Michael knew the job was done and dusted.

This was the way it always went when it came to Michael Fendi.

And with nothing left to see, Michael simply put his foot down on the accelerator and eased his way through the traffic and into the dark night ahead.

It was time to meet Matteo and Faustino and seek solace in some of the finest whisky that the city had to offer. And maybe find out precisely what it was that his cousin Matteo was so keen to discuss too…