IN THE PREVIOUS CHAPTERS
Squalo has become Lambo's favorite puzzle to be solved. However, that morning, Xanxus had left without even kissing his shark goodbye. What will happen next?
Everything went like in a dream. That talk with the judge? Done. The meeting they (or more exactly, Squalo) had with the President of M… Organization? Done, perfect. Everything had been perfect, way too perfect… Of course, something bad had to happen by the end of the day, thus destroying the silverette's mood, once more.
It was the end of the afternoon, at the interview with VR Co.'s US law firm. For that day, they had left the city and had headed to New Jersey. Lambo wasn't personally very accustomed to dealing with lawyers, but the young man knew that, now that their company. had gone "completely" legitimate (in spite of some not-that-legitimate activities here and there – Lambo himself was part of), it was something more than normal that they'd let a law firm manage the legal part of their business.
Mostly in that case, when they were to fight against one of the biggest companies in that side of the globe.
Anyway, they were in a very chic and tranquil office in the nth floor of a building complex in the middle of Newark.
It looked like Squalo already had everything under control and that that meeting was just a formality between VR Co. and the firm. Strangely though, the man who was talking with Squalo, whose age Lambo simply couldn't tell from the apparent white hair and big round eyeglasses, which were contrasting with the rather young features of his; the man was a Japanese man.
Squalo and he were seated in a private lounge, both occupying couches facing each other. As their assistants, Lambo and another man – a very 'everyman' wearing a dark suit but with a pretty peculiar taste in ties and gloves as they were both made with the same checkered pattern fabric – Lambo and that man were standing behind their respective superior, both handing every documents the latter would ask for.
It was basically everything the young Bovino could do in that kind of situation: when things came to paperwork, he was simply and purely useless.
Kawahira (that was his name), despite being rather amiable and helpful, was somehow upsetting Squalo.
"Mmh, VR Co.'s demands are quite realizable, Mr Squalo," Kawahira smiled a smile full of a gracious self-confidence as he was done reading a piece of paper Squalo had handed him earlier. "However, trying to achieve all of this… moreover only in two months… Shouldn't we revise the schedule downwards? For example, my team has already dealt with the Bertesca, the Difo and the Pesca Famiglia many times in the past, but due to many contradictories interests between them it had always been difficult to quickly come to an agreement between them."
The long haired man crossed his legs and tilted his head aside. "Voi, Signore avvocato. No one fucking told you to come to an agreement with those trashes. There's a reason why they'll remain fucking worthless trashes forever. What I'm asking you is to make them fucking bow. Fucking beat into those spineless motherfuckers' head that if they even think about going against Vongola on that case, they'll be wiped. Devoured. Three months later no one will ever remember their fucking name. And when that time comes no one'll fucking try to settle any fucking agreement with them."
The man behind Kawahira puffed lightly. Squalo was so absorbed with his discussion with the white haired man he didn't even notice it. Actually, the ambiance in the room was pretty awkward. And it all was coming from the silverette. It was as if, no matter how imposing he was trying to be, he still looked as though he'd never be able to beat that guy in that game they were playing. What game? Lambo couldn't precisely tell.
"Yes, we can try to do that…" Kawahira adjusted his glasses. It seemed like his dark brown eyes were thoroughly analyzing both Squalo's face and words in the same time. "I'll say it to you directly: Mr. Squalo, the problem comes from you." The silverette flinched. "Had the request – no, even the order – come from anyone else, from the Giordanos or the Vongolas… from anyone else, I would have worked it out. Mafiosi aren't particularly fond of being ordered around by rival families, but I would have found a way anyway. However things are different when the order comes from a man who bears the blood of a traitor to the cause."
A very unpleasant silence was now lingering in the lodge. Even if Squalo hadn't moved an inch from his position, Lambo could clearly see his jaw tensing with every passing second, his fist now clenching on the arm of the couch. And Kawahira was still smiling (always politely) at him.
Finally, maybe as a sign of capitulation, the silver haired man sighed.
"Che. Then what am I supposed to do now?"
"My, my. You don't have to look that beaten-"
"Vooooi don't push you luck, scum."
"I'd never want to do that. I'm not great at sarcastic comments. But can I interest you in a great advice instead?"
Squalo threw his hands in the air in disdain. He didn't have the strength to fight that white haired man anymore. "Yeah, since we've come to this…"
"I'm your lawyer after all!" Kawahira laughed.
"Hurry the fuck up." Squalo grunted.
"I'd advise you to have a small talk with the Girls' owner."
Squalo opened his eyes wide and glared at the other man. "The fuck what? You're telling me to go talk with the owner of a fucking strip club now?"
"Not just the owner of a strip club!" The lawyer was still laughing. "I'm telling you to ask for the protection of one of the most influential men in New York. If you only sent your lawyers to him, it may seem very tactless from your side. It sounds stupid but unfortunately, we're still dealing with this kind of people. The old-school type, you see?"
Squalo's grimace had stretched even wider on his face now. It was more than obvious that the perspective of having to talk with that man in that club wasn't overly rejoicing him. Lambo wondered why. Would it be too much to ask the silver head after the meeting? It was funny how reluctant the silverette was to have to see anyone in that city, be it Giordano or even a mere cabaret owner.
"Why the fuck are you even getting paid eight hundred bucks for."
"Oh, I won't make you pay for your hours at the strip club."
"The fuck no, you won't!"
"Come on, come on." Kawahira looked at the watch on his wrist. "If you leave now, you may arrive there before the opening. You'll have plenty time to talk. Isn't that great? Ah, Ii-pin!" He suddenly called. Then, to Squalo again, "I'll have her accompany you. It'll be easier for negotiations, I think. Ii-pin!"
"Yeeees!" A light and high-pitched with a strong Chinese accent replied from outside the lounge. Almost immediately, a young Chinese girl appeared at the entrance. She had two long braids hanging on both sides of her neck and was wearing a very formal white suit that fell flat on her rather curve-free body.
Ii-pin rushed so fast she almost hit her infant-like face on the door. She forgot to greet the visitors, immediately went to Kawahira, but when the latter pointed that detail out, the poor girl, flushed red, apologized profusely, her head bowing down over and over again to Squalo who simply couldn't care less.
After she calmed down, Kawahira could finally explain her mission: just introduce them to the Girls' owner (she blushed again), tell him that he was the one who sent them, they'll understand.
"A-all right." Ii-pin nodded obediently, she then turned to Squalo and bowed again. "I hope I can be of any help for you, Mr. Squalo. I'm a junior attorney, you can call me Ii-pin. If you need anything else-"
The young girl rose her head and froze when she saw Lambo. Her eyebrows furrowed and her forehead darkened slightly, but that was all of her reactions. She lowered her head again and presented a card to the silver haired man. Lambo took it. "Please, call me."
…
"It seems like there has been a small commotion in the stairs, but things have calmed down now." Xanxus' hostess stated as she placed the raven in his luxurious private box at the opera.
Xanxus being his usual self – the expensively dressed and cash-scented bastard par excellence – the raven didn't reply anything and, without a single thanking, he sat down on a smaller version of his usual throne, right facing the stage many meters lower, his ruby eyes now staring blankly at the arena beneath him (he didn't even pay attention to all the peasants stacked in the galleries).
All that ostentatious red and gold splattered around the place, the profusion of lavishness in the hangings, the molding, and the blinding light, since an early age, Xanxus had learnt to live in spite of them.
Yet, God, he hated all that pompous crap.
If the change of setting suddenly disturbs the reader, and in the case you're wondering why the Vongola heir, instead of indulging in his favorite hobbies namely getting drunk and passing out in the middle of the afternoon, why such a man is now waiting for the beginning of the representation of Puccini's infamous work, La Bohème, then just wait for few minutes for one of the causes of the previous 'commotion' to reach the tanned man's location.
And there she is now, entering the box, some lingering hints of annoyance still spread on her lips, still looking as gorgeous as she was just few days earlier in Roma.
"I swear to the Lord," Bianchi hissed as she readjusted her majestic chignon. "You can't expect to find some decency in male human beings anymore! And here I thought, oh, this place is rather fancy, it's not as if I was in a crammed subway, you understand this? Oh, but no, you still get groped by some pervert. The only difference is that pervert is wearing a tuxedo instead of sweaters. I'm starting to lose faith in humanity. Oh, my bad, Xanxus, I didn't want to make you wait."
She apologized and took a sit next to the raven, who didn't look like he had listened to any of Bianchi's ranting. Of course, no, Xanxus doesn't listen.
"Thank God, the prelude hadn't started yet!" The ginger head put her glasses on and glanced at the stage. She unconsciously stretched her neck to get a better view. "I'm truly impressed you could find places! I thought tickets were sold out. I've played most of those songs on the piano back when I was living in Estonia. There were all above wonderful. I'd have never thought I'd be able to listen to them here, even with Father's influence… Oh."
Bianchi finally noticed Xanxus' raising – skyrocketing – annoyance. Even if he wasn't saying anything, the look on his face was worth thousands curses and death threats.
"I'm sorry." Bianchi apologized again, then sighed. "I guess you didn't come here to enjoy this everlasting work. Very well, Xanxus Vongola. What is on your mind now?"
The raven sank in his chair like the spoiled brat he had always been. "You motherfucking bitch, don't you fucking make it sound like a fucking therapy session."
"That's basically what I'll be doing, though. If you don't like it, just see it as talking to a friend."
"Since when am I a fucking friend with you, trash?"
"Wait a minute. Even now you don't consider me a friend?"
"Why the fuck should I consider you a friend. A friend is someone you choose. I literally pay you to be here."
"Then see it as a therapy session, then. What do you want me to say?"
Oh yes, the raven was starting to get on the young woman's nerves. She had just slapped someone hard enough to make him lose consciousness just because his hand brushed against her breast. She didn't want to deal with another self-interested insensible jerk.
On the other hand, that was true, what could she do against that? That was her part of the contract, the price she had to pay to take her father's place in their family business: playing buddies with Xanxus.
Mostly because the only person the raven could actually make a friend of, he ended up fucking him; that wasn't exactly what friends do, ordinarily. But also because, even if Xanxus raised his pay twice, Iemitsu would never go back working for him. The old man was now enjoying a peaceful life of retiree, crying everyday for his beloved yet long-lost wife.
And now, even Bianchi wanted to join the old consigliere to cry after his wife. Anything would have been better than staying in the same room with the Vongola for two hours long.
"Very well then. What has happened in the Vongolosphere lately?"
"Che." Xanxus spat, and after some time, groaned. "What do you know about the Bovinos?"
The question took Bianchi off guard. What did she know about an old Italian family which barely had any active members anymore?
"Mmh… Not much. Only that they're an allied family. Well, they were one, since now the clan has been totally dismantled by the previous generation Boss of Vongola. Is there a problem with them?"
Xanxus remained silenced for some time again before replying. His dark and ominous orbs were still lost in the void before them. On the stage, Marcello and Rodolfo were talking (more exactly, singing) to each other some futilities bout love and body heat. None of the two people that truly had a part in our story, though, noticed that the opera had already begun.
"There's one of those trashes working for us now. Here, in New York." Xanxus said, and at his appearance, Bianchi somehow understood that that piece of information was coming with another one the raven wasn't particularly fond of.
"Yes, so what?"
"That scum is working as a liaison officer between us and the NYC families. He's working with Squalo for SLW's affair."
"So far, I hear nothing strange. We have liaison officer in many countries, we just can't let the local organizations doing as they please."
"This morning I was at his place. At that trash's (Squalo's) place. That motherfucking cuntbag is sharing a fucking apartment with that Bovino scum."
Bianchi was desperately (or at least she was trying) using all her cognitive skills to try to figure out what was the meaning behind all of that. A Bovino? Vongola's spokesperson? And that man was with Squalo now?... She was analyzing Xanxus's gradually darkening expression while putting things together in her heads. Unlike Squalo, she wasn't used to guess what the hell was in Xanxus' mind. And she didn't want to. Just what could be so upsetting Xanxus to have his boyfriend staying with that guy…
'Oh.' She finally realized.
No matter how mad she was, nor how inappropriate her behavior was at the moment, she couldn't help it, Bianchi just looked at Xanxus' irate face and burst in laugh, loud enough to make the people in boxes next to theirs turn their heads in anger.
TBC
~The author addresses her readers~
Hey people! I somehow want to thank you all for still reading and following this story. It took so long to get updated, and with my job and my other activities (I have just too many hobbies DX) I can only write stuff late at night. So I'm never really sure how the things will turn out. I'm way too sleepy and physically tired to care. OMG should I be saying that? OMG, I shouldn't. But it's almost midnight here and I think if I leave my PC now I can get about 5 hours of sleep. Such luxury.
But forget this! I'm so happy you decided to spend some time of yours to read this very humble work. I kind of understand the plot may get a little too complicated and I'm adding more and more characters. But i've always wanted to write an XS fanfiction like this. I didn't have that opportunity with Brothers and Of capes and swords: back then college was literally trying to kill me. So now I'm pushing myself to reach (try to reach) that goal. I hope you'll be patient; I will try not to disappoint you!
And lastly, another thing I wanted to say... I don't know if you've noticed it yet, but for most of the characters here, I got most of my inspiration from many other stuff. Just ot name a few: Vito Giordano (the main antagonist in this arc) is loosely based on Vito Corleone, the godfather in Mario Puzo's book.
Also, since this time Xanxus has become a very active character in the story, unlike in my other fanfictions, I had to develop him more than what I could see in the manga. My main inspiration for Xanxus was Charlie Harper, from the sitcom Two and a half men. I think all the drinking, the womanizer part... well, all those things made of a Charlie perfect muse to "create" this Xanxus. There's also Tommy DeVito from the Goodfellas, Tony Soprano from the Sopranos... and aallllllll those mafia bosses I've seen in documentaries on TV. I think Xanxus is truly the one I had much fun writing about.
Moreover, music holds an important part in this work. I simply can't write anything if I don't have the right piece of music to listen to while I'm writing. If you've read I need a child, you may remember that I'm a big fan of Olivia Ruiz (I got the idea of the fanfiction from her song, I need a child) and I think I mostly have developped Squalo's personnality from all of her songs (Thérapie de groupe, La renarde, Mon corps mon amour, Petite fable, etc). However, nothing would have been possible without blasting in my ears for almost eight hours a day each album of The decemberists. I just think they're perfect.
There are so many sources I can quote for this work... But most of them I don't even quite remember. If you're on instagram, you could try and check Mafia chronicles. i got some of them from that account.
And... That's pretty much what I wanted to say. Worry not, I won't be this talkative in the next chapter (since I certianly would be too tired for anything).
Thank you again! And see you next chap!