5 - Lorenzo Matteo Mancini

*Lorenzo's point of view*

My name is Lorenzo Matteo Mancini. I live in Brooklyn, New York and I'm a gangster.

Let me start out by telling you, It sure ain't nothing like in the movies.

A typical day in my life starts at nine or ten am. I get up, take a shower and brush my teeth. As I arrive to the kitchen, a maid has already prepared my morning espresso – double shot. I had to let my old maid go, due to some.. personal issues.

After getting my daily fix of caffeine, I get dressed. Always black suit pants, always a white shirt, and always a golden chain. Around noon, I leave my two floor apartment to go take care of some business. The location is classified, obviously, so don't even think about fucking asking, got it?

Today is Friday, which usually indicates taking phone calls and laundering money with my uncle Ricardo.

My driver Ricky was already waiting for me, as I arrived on the main street. Ricardo was already in the car, as I got in. If I should describe my uncle with only two words, I would say that he was a maiale acido – an angry bastard. He gets the job done, I'll give him that. But fuck, he could use a vacation.

Our first stop is at an ice-cream store – I told you it's not like in the movies. The owners are already expecting us, as we walk in. I enjoy their facial expressions as they greets us, they look so terrified. So does the owner at the bagel shop, the local laundry and the café that sells terrible sandwiches that they proudly say is Italian, on fifth.

They know the drill – easy in, easy out. Fortunately, most of the clients obeys us. But there is always that one fucking bastard who tries to scam us for money. Yesterday, I had to cut off a finger of a doughnut shop owner. What a pity.

They give us clean G's, we gave them dirty back. That's how it works. Usually, it's our bagman Tony who picks up the money, but he just went on a two week's fucking vacation to Bali with his fam. So today, Ricardo was the capo.

Are you wondering why the poor bastards are cooperating with us? Well, I've got two answers for that.

1. If they accept our deal, we'll protect them from scum.

2. If they decline, then the Russians motherfuckers will take them. And we wouldn't want that, would we? No.

Let me tell you a little story about the Russians. They run a, well I wouldn't call it a mafia but if you will. A mob called d'yavol, referring to the word devil – I know, fucking embarrassing, right?

Their territory is mostly in New Jersey. We've been at war with them for decades. It all started when my grandfather Matteo moved to Brooklyn. He previously ran the business back in Palermo, Italy, but wanted to expand his success.

He got himself an apartment with his wife, my grandmother Lucia and they started a new life here in Brooklyn.

Not long after, my grandmother gave birth to my father Pedro. It was a difficult birth, and I remember my grandmother telling me that he was as stubborn coming out, as he is stepping out of business. Just like my grandfather was, bless his soul.

Not many years after, my grandmother had yet another child – Ricardo. Ricardo and Pedro grew up together, and not long after, they had a little brother named Dante. So now my grandfather and grandmother established a life with three kids in a whole new country as immigrants.

The business was glooming. They gained many members, and by dictating my grandfather's proud words, they owned Brooklyn and most of Manhattan.

But that was about to change. After world war two, many Russians immigrated to America. Some of them moved to New York. The story could have ended there, but it didn't. It wasn't just refugees. There was also uprising mafia leaders on the ships. And they invaded New York, and tried to take over our empire. Which my grandfather luckily wouldn't accept.

The previous leader of d'yavol, Vladimir Ikowski tried to bargain with my grandfather. He wanted to share their earnings 50/50. My grandfather knew it was a scam, but he played along. Two weeks later, my grandfather was shot dead on eighth avenue, in 1947. By Vladimir fucking Ikowski, allegedly. After that, shots were fired everywhere.

No one was safe, everyone with a red passport was at stake. So my father, Pedro, did what he had to do. He took over the business, as a twenty year old punk, and killed Vladimir's son Yegor on his own. Put a bullet right between his eyes, allegedly.

Today, eighty years after it started, we still haven't come to terms. My grandfather would turn in his grave if we did. But we've found a way to control our temper. Otherwise the feds would be up our asses. Not that they have caused me any trouble yet, I have several moles inside. One officer in particular, Jones as I like to call him, has come in handy.

Each time I've ''stepped over the line'' – he is the man you call. I pay him large, so I wouldn't expect any less.

When todays job was done, I went back to my apartment. I had some dinner with my family first. A new nightclub opened down town, and I was intrigued, so I called the guys, and asked them to join me.

As I got ready to leave, I put on my favorite cologne. I always make sure to smell nice, dress nice and look nice. I've experienced that people seem to trust you faster, if you look decent. I also stay strapped, just in case.

There has been silence the past year with no incidents between us and the Russians, but you can never be too sure.

The club was packed. Me and the guys walked straight to the VIP section where a table was already prepared for us. Cocaine, bottles and hookers – if your into that stuff, was waiting patiently. I don't like to fuck around.

Not that I haven't had sex. I've had so much sex, that a brothel in Amsterdam would look like a Disney movie. But never with hookers. I don't like to pay for sex.

Not that I needed too, women seem to love the way I look. And I love women. The way they talk, walk and dress. I especially love when they wear my shirt the morning after. The innocence in their eyes who exposes their need for more. More of me.

The second we walked into VIP, I noticed scums sitting behind our table. The Russians. I recognized several, but one in particular was missing. Dimitri fucking Ikowski.

The air got colder as we walked towards them. I could see them clenching their jaws and tighten their knuckles, but I wasn't afraid, not one bit.

First of all, they were outnumbered, second, this was our territory and they knew it. But we couldn't cause a scene here, too many witnesses. But I still held a tight grip on my gun, in case one of them would be stupid enough to try.

Not long after we seated, Dimitri walked in. He wasn't alone. A girl, probably a couple of years younger than me walked next to him. Fuck, she was beautiful. Her hair was blonde, thick and wavy. It were bouncing as she walked.

She looked like she was around 1.60, and her body was perfect. She was wearing loose jeans, which I usually didn't like on women, but they suited her curvy body.

Her breasts were perfectly shaped in an strapless black top, that she matched with several silver chains that were hanging around her neck. Her skin tone was olive and it looked so smooth. She looked like she knew how to take care of herself. I liked that.

As they walked past us, Dimitri gave me an odd look. He was smirking. I could feel the Italian blood boiling inside of me, I knew exactly what he had planned. He had a reputation. The rumor says, that he picks up young women in clubs, seduces them with his money and – hate to admit it – good looks, and then he drugs them.

He drugs them, r*pe them, sometimes with his scum-ass friends, and then he pays the girl for keeping it a secret. I know this, because a girl once came out in public and told her story. She was found dead from ''suicide'' the next morning, and the Russians paid off the press to keep it from the news.

He was a sick coward, and I was about to witness him repeat his selfless act. I could have ignored it. It was probably for the best, not to interact with him here. But there was something about this girl, that kept me on guard. So I seated myself right behind her, so I could listen to their conversation.

She wasn't talking much. He on the other hand, couldn't shut up. He went on and on about his job – as a headhunter, come on? Luckily, she didn't seem impressed at all. I couldn't help but smile at her responds to him.

He asked her about her life story, so I leaned in a little to ease drop.

''I grew up with both of my parents. I still see them very often, we have a very special relationship! But, they both moved out of New York a couple of months ago. They wanted to pursuit their long-life dream of being campers, so I live alone now.''

Why are you lying, baby? I know a lie when I hear one, I've been trained for that. I was both intrigued to know more about her, and yet amused that Dimitri was so incompetent that he didn't pick up on her lie.

My head was filled with questions. Within an hour, I've learned more about how big an idiot Dimitri is, but I still know nothing about her. Something about her annoyed me, yet invited me in for more. I needed to warn her about him, I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least try.

You see, if there is one thing that my pop told me, it is women is the most sacred thing. They are also the most dangerous, not only because they can kill you with their hearts, but because It'll kill you if you don't let them give it to you.

I must admit, I've not always been the best gentleman. I've been a real shit to women before, probably still am sometimes. But I would never allow anything like this, not in a million years.

''I can't wait to hear more. Five minutes, I need to piss.''

- What a fucking charmer.

Now was my chance. I turned around, and saw that she was trying to call someone. Maybe she had a clue herself, that he was bad news? Or maybe she was a cop? Fuck, she could be a cop. But she looked a bit too young, so I took my chances.

''You need to leave.''

She looked at me, then my friends, then back at me.

''Sorry, I think you have the wrong girl. I don't know you?'' she replied. She turned her head back to face her own table, which annoyed me. I got up and walked past her and seated myself across from her. I leaned in, and signaled with my fingers that she should do the same as I said:

''This is not a joke, you need to leave. I won't tell you again.''

She led out a laugh. What a brat.

''Look, you can see my ID if you want? I can assure you, I'm twenty-one and the doorman led me in here'' She said, still with a flabby laugh on her lips.

I clenched my jaw, and caught her staring intensely. Her eyes were blue, but her right eye had a little brown in them. She was so beautiful, yet so annoying and disobedient. I had to go back to my friends, I didn't want the unnecessary explosion that would occur if Dimitri saw me with her. I got up, and walked towards my own table.

As I walked past her, I leaned in and said; ''don't tell me I didn't warn you.''

I reseated, and noticed that Dimitri re-entered the room right after.

I tried to let It go, and just have fun with my friends. They all looked at me strange when I returned.

''What the fuck, Lorenzo? Do you even know her?'' Vance asked me. We're not related by blood, but he is my brother. We've known each other since birth.

''Shut up, and mind your own business, jackoff,'' I said, as I bottomed a glass of gin. He knew me well enough to know, when I wasn't playing around, so he changed the subject.

Twenty minutes or so later, from the corner of my eye, I could sense that Dimitri had gotten up and seated himself next to her. He whispered something to her that I couldn't hear, but it made her move away from him.

I could see her trying to get up, but she collapsed half way. She said something, with a slurred voice but I didn't understand what she was saying.

Something was wrong, I was sure of it. My friends had noticed too, as we all turned around and looked straight at her and Dimitri. He had his hands on her thigh, and he looked almost animalistic.

And then I saw her mouth shape the word no. And that was enough for me to get up and walk straight towards him.

''You fucking stronzo!'' I pulled him up by his shirt, and smashed him against the wall behind him. I could tell that he was shocked by my sudden approach. His friends were already ganging up behind me, I could sense their presence. Suddenly, I could hear screams from the other guests in the lounge.

The next thing I heard was the sound of a gun that was pulled out. I could feel it on the back of my head.

''Don't even think about it!'' Vance yelled from somewhere behind me. The gun was removed from my head, and a sudden movement made me turn around.

Vance had stabbed one of Dimitri friends right in the stomach, and he was now laying on the floor drenched in his own blood. Vance looked at me with a smile on his face and said; ''that bitch had it coming.''

''I will kill you!'' Dimitri yelled, as he tried to escape from my hands that still held a tight grip on his shirt.

His friends were surrounded and they had nowhere to run. Dimitri's eyes turned black, as he used all of his strength to fight me off. He managed to punch me right below my eye, which would surely give me a blackie tomorrow. I wish he hadn't done that.

I pulled out my gun and ordered him to kneel down beside me. Him and his friends protested, but a second glimpse at their friend who was minutes away from bleeding to death silenced them.

''I know what you're thinking right now. I know you want to kill me so badly, that every bit of your body is craving to see my blood. But I simply can't give you the pleasure of doing so. And you know why? First, because I'm simply stronger than you. Second, you have to be punished for what you were about to do to that girl – '' I used my gun to point at her direction.

She was still laying on the couch, blacked out.

''I just wanted to take her home, there's no crime in that, you psychopath'' Dimitri answered. I could tell by his eyes, that he was scared. I loved that.

''Well, you see, I know that's not true. You and your little friends over there had planned a whole night of activities, right? And Dimitri, please don't lie. I know I lie when I hear one.''

''We just wanted to have fun? She told me she wanted to go ho-''

I hit him hard with the tip of my gun. His eyes blackened for a moment, but he quickly regained consciousness. He now had a wound the size of a coin on the left side of his forehead.

''I thought I told you not to lie? Try again.'' I said.

''Okay, maybe she never told me directly that she wanted too. But look at her,-'' he pointed at her, while taking deep breaths. The blood had reached his mouth, so his teeth was now dark red. He continued: ''with that top, and those hungry eyes of hers, she's asking for it.''

I hit him again, the exact same spot as before. His eyes shut, so I had to pull his head back by his hair. He opened them again and looked at me flickering eyes.

''If there is one thing I hate more than you Russian pieces of shit, then it's men who's disrespecting women. Don't you have a mother? I just don't think I can let this one go.''

''What do you mean? You know what would happen if you decide to kill me, don't you? You and your Italian mobsie friends are just puppets. You will do anything your daddy says, right? I don't think he would like it very much, if you killed me. And you wouldn't want daddy to be angry, would you?''

He looked so smug. He spit on my shoe, and as I looked down, I could see the red spit drip onto the floor.

''Who said anything about killing? I would never!'' I replied, as I smashed his head down, with the shoe he just spit on. I could hear the bump as his head met the stone hard floor. The rest of the Russians already left, probably to get the big boys. But I didn't care, that was the last thing on my mind.

You see, my mind was elsewhere. I'd like to call that state of mind, the color red. Cause that is all I see – red. There was nothing I wanted more, than to put a bullet between Dimitri's blue eyes and see the soul leave them as I spit on his face. Just like my father killed his father Yegor. But I had to restrain myself. I couldn't be the cause of war, not now.

''Come on,'' Dimitri whined as he coughed out blood. ''I know you want to. Just remember that you'll have your whole families blood on your hands, if you pull the trigger.''

Red took over. I kicked him in the stomach until my leg went into spasm. My friends stood next to me, they were laughing. So was I, while the blood from Dimitri's mouth, stomach and chest sprayed the walls with blood.

''That's enough, Lorenzo!''

I stopped and turned around – my uncle Dante was standing behind me.

''What the fuck are you doing? Who the fuck is that?''

I coughed and catched my breath. I looked down, and realized that I probably killed him.

Fuck.

''That's Dimitri.''

''Dimitri who?''

I knew that what I would say next, would break hell loose. But I didn't care.

''Dimitri Ikowski, fucks sake.''

His facial expression changed. My friends who stood right next to him backed away. Cowards. My uncle Dante is known for his creative ways of punishments. And him and Ricardo is the underbosses, below my father. Maybe they fear Dante, but they fear my father even more.

I guess that makes sense. My father is the leader of the Italian mafia.