*
Carlo Moretti sat in the dimly lit backroom of the Italian restaurant, the stench of cigars filling his nostrils. Across the table from him sat two men, known only to him as Frank and Joey, the suppliers of his latest drug shipment. Carlo had been in the business long enough to know when something big was happening, and he could feel the tension in the air.
"So, what is it that you have for me?" Carlo asked, his voice gruff and authoritative.
Frank cleared his throat and leaned forward. "We recently came across a large collection, something we've never seen before. We need someone we can trust to move it."
Carlo stroked his beard thoughtfully. "You know it's going to be difficult. The cops are on high alert, and my men are already spread thin."
Joey interjected, "We know that, but we're willing to pay top dollar. We need this done, and we need it done quickly."
Carlo leaned back in his chair, assessing the situation. He knew what he had to do, but he also knew it was time for him to step down. His eldest son, Sal, had been training for years to take over the family business, and this could be the perfect opportunity to see if he was ready.
"Okay," Carlo said, his eyes narrowing. "I'll take the job, but on one condition. My son, Sal, will be in charge of this operation. I want to see if he's ready to take the reins."
Frank and Joey looked at each other nervously before nodding in agreement. Carlo knew they had no choice but to agree, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the thought of testing his son.
"Good," he said, standing up. "Let's get this done."
As the suppliers gathered their things and left the room, Carlo couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension. This was a big job, and he wasn't as young as he used to be. It was time to see if Sal had what it took to run the family business and carry on the Moretti name.
*