Angel Dust

His own men don't even call him that - Mr. Valentino - unless they're in deep shit or appearances call for more formal displays of respect; it's usually Val, sometimes Tino, but there's something about the way Anthony says the whole thing that makes Valentino want to reach over and grab him by the chin. Push his tongue past his lips to see if he can taste the way his name fits in Anthony's mouth.

Mista Valentino. Fuck him, honestly. Respectfully and disrespectfully. Valentino shifts his knee out slightly, the movement subtle but indicative of his... interest in Anthony. This is very clearly the start of a dangerous game, but Valentino wouldn't be where he is now if he didn't love the thrill of it.

The rest of the drive is easy and relatively quick. The apartment building they pull up to isn't overly-flashy, but it's well-kept and takes up a whole block. Valentino pulls up to the curb and parks, and then he turns to Anthony and lifts a hand to point a finger in his face.

"Listen to me." He doesn't sound too serious, like what he's about to say isn't a major concern, but just a possibility. Nothing for Anthony to worry about too much either way. "Anybody gives you shit? You let me know. Handle it if you want, or let me handle it for you, but you need to tell me either way."

Valentino doesn't expect his boys to cause too much trouble - they've been made aware of a new body in the building, and he can't fault them if having their boss's son occupying the same space makes them a little bit uneasy - but he's already decided that no one will fuck with Anthony and get away with it.

He raises his brows, and then smiles. "Understood?" He does not pause. "Fantastic. Grab your case and I'll take you inside."