Wiseguys

Sound of shattering glass was heard from Randy's flower shop as people walked past it. Someone had drawn the curtains together, making it unable for the curious eyes to look inside, where Randy was screaming for his life as two young men were breaking everything inside the shop while two more stood next to him, preventing him from leaving and making him watch everything that was happening that moment.

"Please, stop! I'll pay! I'll pay!" the mid aged man finally yelled, sobbing like a child.

"Enough." One of the four yelled, making the other two stop immediately. The tall, athletic young man with the long dark hair grabbed old Randy by the collar and made him look at him. "You hold us up one more time, and my two friends over here will use your face to break everything next time. You got that, Randy?" He said in a calm tone, making it only sound more intimidating. Not that it was necessary. The two muscles next to him were doing it already more than necessary.

"Please, Beck, it won't happen again. I promise!" Randy half cried.

"Give us the money." The skinny guy with curly hair and glasses spoke up now.

"It's in the box, under the pot over there." The scared man said, pointing towards the place with a shaky hand.

The black young man with dreads, who a minute ago was breaking everything, walked over there and picked it up, revealing the box in a hidden spot inside the table. He picked it up and opened it, seeing the cash that was in there. He brought it to the curly guy who took out a certain amount, yet not everything, before closing the box, which the other placed back where it was previously.

Beck let go of the scared man, gently patting him on the shoulder and fixing the man's collar.

"See? That wasn't so hard. So when we come back in one week, the money will be waiting for us, you got that?" Beck said. Randy only nodded. "Let's go." Beck said and the others followed him outside.

What you just saw us do was nothing special. It was only business, and old Randy didn't hold up his bargain. See, you don't make deals with the mob if you can't keep your word, and poor fella did exactly that. He agreed that we protect him from the other families while he would pay tribute every week. That's how it works, and it worked well for so many years, so why change it now? It's especially dumb to do that when the deal was made with Mr. West. Not only was he the caporegime in one of the most powerful organizations in our country, but he was the uncrowned boss of half of the West Coast, especially LA. And he was it for a reason. He owned most of the rackets the town had to offer, and the ones he didn't own weren't even important enough to be owned.

There was also a reason why he was the king of LA, and that reason was none other than the four of us. We, us four eighteen year old kids were the problem solvers. We were the guys who took care of things he couldn't be bothered by. Be it collecting the tributes from all the rackets or setting them straight when they couldn't come up with the money. Be it transporting some wares or stealing a truck that was driving something we wanted. Is it beating somebody up who crossed the family or protect someone from other families, it didn't matter, we did it.

The four of us were among many members of the family. Mr. West's job was to keep things under control on the West Coast and the money flowing. And boy did the money flow. I mean, come on, here's me, an eighteen years old punk who lives in an RV in front of his uncles place, wearing an two thousand dollar suit and thousand dollar shoes without even thinking about it. And I got a closet full of them after a year. This lifestyle was everything a poor sucker like me had dreamt off. I got the gift of good looks and the gift of the gab. I was the guy who talked to others. I knew everyone and everyone knew me. I was the guy who talked the deals, and I did it for a reason. I knew how to threat people, how to talk to them, how to let them know when you mean business. I loved this lifestyle. I loved the money, the women, but mostly, I loved the respect you immediately got once you are associated with the family.

And I knew that the others did to. Andre was the worst. He didn't care that he would be doing the muscle job in expensive clothes that would rip more often than they should. At least now he got used to taking the fifteen hundred bucks jacket off. But who could blame him? I mean, I know the guy since he was eight, and his grandmother had worked her back off trying to get food on the table and clothes on his body. But when she had her stroke three years ago he needed to take over not only the food and clothes dealt, but the hospital bills too. That was when the four of us joined the family. And now? Now he moved her into his new flat that was big enough for a whole family while the best doctors LA has to offer are making sure that his grandmother stays alright.

Rob wasn't a sucker either. He was the guy who got us into this life and we were more than thankful for that. His father had been a long time friend, lawyer and right hand of Roy West himself. Unfortunately, when another family tried taking over eight years ago, they made the mistake of shooting Mr. Shapiro while he was getting into his car. Out of loyalty, and the need for replacement, Mr. West took Robbie into the family, providing him a way of taking care of himself and his mother, who hasn't been the same since the day of her husband's murder. Rob changed too. The former weird, shy kid now was the brain of our quartet, taking care of numbers and knowing how much money each racket made, how much tribute it owed and when it was due. He knew who was working there, how long, where they lived and all that. He also knew a lot about the other families, what businesses they did and where the flaws were in their organization. He knew what rackets made profit and were worth extorting. Without him, this whole thing we did wouldn't run at all.

Last but not least was Adam, the five foot ten two hundred pounder with short black hair and a thick goatee. He and Andre are the two guys you want on your side during a fight, although Adam would be enough by himself. Imagine this, his family moves from somewhere to LA, and then leaves him on the street when he reaches the age of six. Since then, he learned how to take care of himself and, more importantly, how to take care of others. Life on the streets thought him how to evade the police. It also introduced him to the ugly side of LA's streets, having worked small jobs for drug dealers, done deliveries for some black market merchants and many more things. He didn't talk much, but when he did, others listened. When he told you to shut up, you better do so and you better keep it shut. When he told you to fuck off you better fuck the hell off. People were scared of him, but that was just how he wanted it. His presence alone, especially when Andre was there too, was more than enough to change peoples mind about anything we needed them to change their mind. And more importantly, when those two are around, the other families won't try anything stupid.

The four made their way into one of the bars that were under Mr. West's control, being one of his earliest rackets he got. It was a place full of wiseguys ranging from the West's to associates and allies. When they entered, they proceeded with the standard routine of greeting everyone. It took a while before they sat down in their usual place and ordered their drinks.

"What's next, Rob?" Andre asked. The day had just started for them.

"The plan for today was to collect the tributes from the east part of town. And we did finished it with Randy's place." Rob told them before taking a long sip of his drink.

"That was easy enough. The east rackets rarely make problems, unlike the north ones." Beck said before taking the papers Rob had put down and looking them over. "What's this?" He pointed at a paragraph while looking at Rob.

"A new hotel opened a month ago. It's making quite some money." Rob answered him.

"Anyone took care of it yet?" Andre asked.

"No, not yet. But we don't have the time to go there. It's on the other side of town and we got our hands full for the week already." Rob answered him.

"And by next week one of the other families will have taken it themselves." Beck said.

"Let's go get it now." Adam spoke up, getting the others attention. "Why take a chance of loosing it to the Mavanos or Goleros?"

"I have to take the tributes to Roy. Can you do this without me?" Robbie asked. There were two things Mr. West loved, and one of them was money. Naturally, he hated having to wait for it.

"Sure. The three of us can take care of it. How much is the racket worth?" Beck asked.

"Offer him the usual partnership deal. It's not worth buying out completely." Rob answered.

"Alright, let's take care of it then." Beck said before throwing some cash on the table and getting up, the others finishing their drinks before following him.

Rob took one of the family's cars and drove off towards Mr. West's house while Beck, Andre and Adam drove towards the other side of town where the hotel was. It took them a while as it was rush hour, but after half an hour they finally arrived. Andre parked the white Cadillac, which was the trademark color of the family and the three got out of it. As they began walking towards the hotel entrance, Andre suddenly stopped, making Beck and Adam do the same. They noticed Andre's expression change to an angry one. When they looked where he was looking, they understood why.

"Look at those morons." Andre said as he looked at the five guys that were walking towards them. They were members of the Golero family, a rival mob. Still, they were at peace for now. None of the leaders wanted a war, especially not with the West's.

"We got here on time." Adam said as he lit himself one of his Cuban cigars.

"What do we have here? Three of West's dogs. The racket is ours." One of them said. The guy was in his thirties and wore a green tuxedo with a fedora hat.

"Are you sure? I don't see any Golero worms guarding it." Beck said, a smirk forming on his face when he their angry reaction.

"We are taking this one, so fuck off Beck!" The leader shouted. The folk passing by made sure to walk a long circle around them, knowing very well to stay out of the mob's affairs.

"And if I don't fuck off? What are you going to do Pete? Go cry to your boss? Are you going to suck his dick until you feel better?" Beck provoked, pushing his berserk buttons. It was what he wanted. He knew how to push someone to do something stupid. As long as they don't start the fight and act in self defense, there was nothing anyone could tell them. And as long as Andre and Adam were close, a fight would always be the best option.

"You son of a…!" Pete began as the five began charging towards Beck, but they stopped once they saw that Andre and Adam were blocking their path. Adam dropped his cigar before stepping on it. He then looked back at the adversaries in front of him.

"Out of respect, I will give you a chance to back off." Adam told them. The five Golero goons heard about Andre and Adam before, and none of the stories was a pretty one.

"There are five of us, and there are three of you!"

"Adam and I will be more than enough." Andre said in a cold voice. Behind them, Beck mockingly shrugged.

"So, what will it be?" Adam asked, waiting for any of the five to make a move.

After a long pause, Pete and his gang slowly began walking away. They knew who they were up against, and that they stood no chance.

"Dumb fucks." Andre snorted as the three walked into the hotel.

"Where is your boss?" Beck asked the young girl working on the counter. She looked up at them, a nervous expression replacing the former carefree one.

"M…Mr. Goldstein?" she called, her gaze never leaving the three.

A few moments later a man in his fifties walked out of his office.

"What is it Annie?" He asked her before finally noticing the three standing there. He immediately understood the situation. "Please, come inside." He told them in a nervous tone as he motioned towards his office. They followed him inside as he sat down behind his desk while Beck sat down in front of it, Andre and Adam standing behind him.

"H…how can I help you?"

"My name is Beck, and the two gentlemen standing behind me are Andre and Adam." Beck said in a calm voice as he motioned with his hands towards his two friends.

"Of course, where are my manners?" The older man said with a nervous laugh. "My name is Larry Goldstein, and I am the owner of this hotel."

"Larry, let's get straight to business. We are here to offer you a deal in Mr. West's name. Do you know who he is?" Beck asked. Larry only nodded nervously. "Good, we want to buy a share of this place and become partners."

"Partners? Okay, I understand. Business. What does your partnership offer?" Larry asked, trying to calm down. He knew they would run him over if he kept being nervous and scared.

"That's a great question many never even try to ask. You are a smart man." Beck said as he reached for something in his inner pocket. Larry grew nervous, the idea of being shot on the spot rushing through his head. Beck took out a large bundle of cash and placed it on the table. "On the table are ten thousand dollars. That is my offer for a share of your hotel. For that, we get the top floor and ten percent." Beck explained. Larry looked at the money and then at him.

"Can…can I ask what you need the top floor for?" Larry asked, calming down a little.

"You should be asking that. Partners don't keep business secrets, do they? The top floor will be turned into a small casino. Nothing too big, but it will be good enough for the quests in that will stay here."

"A casino? What about the police? If they find out that there is illegal gambling going on in here, they will shut me… I mean us down."

"That's not for you to worry about and for us to take care off. The police won't be a problem. And neither will the other families. By tomorrow, a few of our guys will be here and watch everything, so don't worry, there won't by anyone else to try to do something."

"Alright." Larry sighed. "It… sounds like a good deal. But… do I get a piece of the casino earning. We are partners after all." Larry asked.

"You really are a smart businessman. I like that. Okay, how about this, I give you my word that more people will come here, rich people, so you can raise the prices a little. Also, you can count on our help should you encounter any problems. You know, someone not paying his bills, trashing a room, whatever. Give us a call and we'll take care of it. Our main interest is our tribute and the gambling upstairs. Of course, you continue to run it your way." Beck finished, waiting for Larry's response.

"Alright. We have a deal. Anything else I should know?" Larry said, nodding.

"We will come every two weeks to pick up our tribute. We." Beck said, pointing at himself, Andre and Adam, who haven't said a single word since entering the office. "No substitutions. If none of us is there, then don't give them a single cent. You understand?"

"Yes. I do."

"Good. It's great doing business with you." Beck said as he got up and extended his hand, offering the handshake. Larry took it and shook his hand, then Andre's and Adams as they left the hotel.

"Easy business." Beck said as they got into the Cadillac and drove off.