Of Barns and Mobsters

It is through Johny Felten, the shoeshine down by the old waterfront cinema, that Leo Rossini first learns about the incoming shipment of illegal firearms coming down the river to the Cascella mob. Whilst Johnny is the last link in a long chain of people that includes a pianist and a dancer, the first is Luca Cascella, the owner of the Ace of Hearts – one of the biggest and most decadent clubs East of the river – and brother of mob boss Nicolo Cascella. From this chain it becomes apparent that Nico is in desperate need of somewhere to stash the inbound guns.

It is simple enough to request that Johnny mention his name to the relevant people. Once his name is in the chain it'll eventually find its way to Nicolo himself. And so it does, quite quickly at that too. Within about three days Leo receives a personal invitation to the Ace of Hearts.

He holds the invitation tightly as he dives, headfirst, into the hubbub of the Ace. He’s swiftly directed to the front row of tables by the stage then instructed to sit down, wait, and enjoy the show.

The dancers are, as he expected, beautiful and talented, but they don’t quite manage to distract him from the dread bubbling up inside his stomach. Just as he’s gotten up to head to the restrooms, Nicolo Cascella miraculously manifests out of thin air.

“So, you’re Leo?” the mobster asks, voice creamy and rich. Honey and velvet comes to mind. He gestures for Leo to sit, which he does, before taking his own seat.

“Yeah, that’s me.” Leo expected the presence of Nicolo to be nerve-wracking, but the power that pours off the man is intoxicating. He’s choking on it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I’m sure it is. What are you drinking?”

“Whiskey.”

“Whiskey. Gotcha.” Clicking his fingers, Nicolo summons up a waiter, and without taking his gaze off Leo, orders a bottle of the finest red wine the club has. Italian wine, naturally.

“I’m hoping to be of some use to you tonight, Mr Cascella, you see –“

“Firstly, call me Nico,” the mobster cuts in, voice calm and dripping with sugar. “Secondly, we don’t talk business until the alcohol arrives. Enjoy the ambience, my friend. It might be the only time you get the chance to.”

The pair sit in silence, Leo nervously sipping at his whiskey as Nico leans back in his chair, hands resting on his broad chest, a smile on his soft lips as he watches the girls dance.

Once the wine arrives, and two glasses are filled, Nico finally turns to business. “I’m told you may have a solution to my little problem?”

Leo leans forwards so the conversation can be more private. “My grandfather owned a farm,” he begins. “It’s about a two-hour drive away, and it’s got this huge old barn.”

“A huge old barn you’d let me stash my guns in?” Lifting his glass, Nico swirls the wine gently, releasing the rich fruity aroma.

“For a price I would, yeah.”

Nico nods. He sets his wine glass down, leans forward, forearms resting on the table as his mossy eyes hold Leo’s. “How much?”

“Depends how long you’d need my barn for.”

“Roughly a month I’d say,” Nico states bluntly, so much so that he may as well be talking about trigonometry not contraband. His straight-forward attitude frightens Leo. He’s so calm, so at ease in his world of glitter, gunshot wounds and fragrant Italian wines.

“Eighty dollars per week.”

Leo can see thoughts racing through Nico’s head, expenses being weighed and evaluated. “Anyone else know about this barn of yours?” the mobster asks finally.

“My sister.”

“She trustworthy?”

“She’s the most trustworthy person I know.”

“She’d better be.” Swallowing another mouthful of wine, Nico turns his attention back to the dancers.

“I swear on my mother’s life,” Leo continues, a hand on his heart, “no one will know where to find your merchandise.”

After finishing his drink, Nico turns that sweet smile back to him, rises, and adjusts the cuffs of his sleeves. “I’ll be in touch. Have a good evening, Leo. Stay as long as you want.” As he passes Leo by, he rests a hand on his shoulder. “Enjoy the show.” And just as suddenly as he’d appeared, Nico Cascella vanishes into the throng of finely dressed mobsters, business men, bankers, and wealthy individuals that make up the clientele of the Ace.

The second time Leo meets Nico is far less intimate. They gather in the back yard of Luca’s house, accompanied by a few of Nico’s closest associates, to discuss the finer details of the weapon stash.

Nico sits in the shade of the veranda, a glass of homemade lemonade in hand. He leans against the railings as he talks to his brother, and every so often the sun catches in his cinnamon brown hair.

Leo says very little during the meeting, his only real form of interaction being a gentle nod of his head. Throughout, though, he keeps feeling Nico’s eyes upon him. Twice he manages to catch Nico staring, and he offers the mobster a gentle smile. Nico only returns one such smile.

Once the meeting is over, and Luca’s wife Emilie enters the picture, Leo fully expects to be sent home to await further instructions. Instead though, he’s invited to stay for a rather impromptu barbeque. Naturally he accepts.

The conversation lightens, Emilie’s bold French personality helping tremendously. Laughter drifts into the neighbouring gardens, and Leo can’t help but let his gaze wander to the ever enigmatic being that is Nicolo Cascella. At one point he sits beside the mobster, and the conversation turns to family and home life. Nico is one of those people Leo can feel listening to him. His eyes are always so attentive, which is surprising given how much status Nico has compared to Leo.

By the time the barbeque is over, and Leo is heading out the garden gate to head home, he feels some form of connection has formed between him and Nico.

“I’ll see you round, Leo,” the mobster says upon his exit. “Don’t get into too much trouble.”

“I’ll try my best.”

The third meeting is the most intimate of them all. He’s called to the Ace after hours – some form of business needs discussing before the guns can be delivered. Leo dresses in his best, expecting to meet with Nico and Luca at least. But when he arrives at the Ace he is greeted by the sight of Nico sitting alone at the bar.

The conversation is pleasant and has absolutely nothing to do with guns.

“Sorry for the impromptu invitation,” Nico begins. “I needed the company of someone who isn’t always trying to appease me.”

“Do you get tired of your men often?”

“Sometimes. Don’t get me wrong, they’re good lads, loyal to a fault the lot of them, but there’s something different about you.”

“Different?”

Sighing, Nico locks eyes with Leo and smiles. “You’re easy to talk to, Leo. I like that.”

Over the course of several drinks they talk, through which Leo learns about Nico’s home life, his parents, the joy that is his sister Bianca. As they sit side-by-side, sipping on champagne and smoking cigarettes, Leo decides he quite likes Nico. Sure, he’s a dangerous and violent mobster, but there’s such charm to him that cannot be denied.

High on the rapture created by the alcohol that flows through their veins, the pair walk back to Nico’s place. They talk some more, Nico showing off his record collection as some soft jazz buzzes out of the wireless. The evening is relaxed, playful.

And then they kiss.

It’s like fire, forbidden and dangerous yet warm and tender. Leo never wants it to stop. Nico’s hand rests on Leo’s thigh as the pair kiss on the sofa. The mobster isn’t nearly as fierce as Leo had expected. He’s soft and gentle. He lets Leo lead any and all interactions from that point on. He seems content to simply smile and watch.

In the morning, as he’s lying alone in Nico’s bed, Leo is very much aware that the events of last night have to remain secret, not just for his safety but for Nico’s too. If word were to get out he doubts that either of them would be free to walk the streets.

He’s also aware that he’s got a shipment of guns heading to his barn. He dresses rapidly, forgetting one sock under the bed, and rushes out into the street.

It isn’t love per say, no, more a fondness for the mobster. Perhaps something more will grow from this, but right now Leo needs to focus on getting to his grandfather’s farm to supervise the transfer of the guns. Money comes first, no matter how pleasant the kissing was.

He arrives at the farm with ten minutes to spare. Perching on a stack of hay bales, Leo watches the truck roll up the gravel track towards the barn. He does little more than give direction, pointing mobsters to various parts of the barn, the places where sawdust packed crates of guns can be best hidden.

The men Nico sent are professionals, they know what they’re doing, so Leo spends most of his time watching them stack crates.

He can’t stop thinking about the smell of Nico’s cologne in the morning.

It started out as a last-ditch effort to make some money, but now it is something more. Not only is Leo hiding Nico’s guns, he is also hiding the mobster’s feelings from the world. He needs this to stay a secret. He needs this to succeed, because if it all gets found out, then the man he may soon come to love will be arrested. So the guns, along with their love, must remain hidden.

“Leo.”

Gaze flicking to the truck, Leo can’t help but smile at the sight of Nico climbing out of his car. “Nico. What are you doing here?”

“Came to check on my boys,” Nico replies as he approaches. “How they doing?”

“Yeah, they’ve got it under control,” Leo says with a nod. “Your guns will be safe here.”

“Good. Good.” Rubbing the back of his neck gently, Nico shades his eyes with one hand as he watches his men unload the truck. “Look, about last night –“

“You don’t need to worry. I won’t say a word. Not to anyone.”

“No, it’s not that.” Shoulders dropping, Nico lets out a sharp breath as he shakes his head. “If you’ve got some free time, you want to get dinner with me?”

“Dinner? Won’t that look a bit suspicious? Suddenly you’re talking to me a lot, just when some guns come in?”

“Nah, it’ll just look like dinner between friends. Am I not allowed friends now?”

“No, I… is that what we are then? Friends?”

Nico’s gaze falters for a moment, his brows furrowing into a soft frown. Slowly, he nods. “I can call you a business associate if you’d prefer?”

“No.” Shaking his head, Leo smiles gently. “No, friends works fine by me. And yes, dinner sounds great.”