“Wha-what. No. No, I wouldn’t—” He starts but goes silent, backing up a step when I take one in his direction. With a raised eyebrow, I shift the package back and forth between my hands. “You have to understand, Romeo! I—I wouldn’t betray you. I had to think of my family!”
My upper lip curls in disgust as he drops to his knees at my feet, sobbing with snot and spit dripping down his ugly mug.
“What did you do, Marco? Be honest, and I might let you live.” I let my facial expression smooth out so he can’t get aread on me and crouch down in front of him with the package between my hands.
“Vic—Victor approached me, threatened my family, and threatened my life. I didn’t have a choice! I’ve only been telling him when the shipments come in! That’s it, I swear.” he screams, sobbing like a fucking baby, but stops when he sees my face.
I feel like a black cloud descends over me as Marco keeps babbling, but I hardly hear him. I’m seething inside; it makes my vision blurry. This motherfucker. Victor.
The head of the Bratva Russian family.
Why must that piece of shit always show up whenever I’m planning a shipment? Do I have a rat in our midst? I don’t have time for this; I’m supposed to be preparing to leave the States in a month with my bride.
“Now, why did you have to go and make friends with the Russians, Marco? Have we not treated you kindly, like family?” I ask him, snapping the fingers of my left hand towards my cousin, and feel the press of cold metal meet the flesh of my palm.
“No. I mean, yes. You’ve treated me like family! I swear.” Marco whimpers in fear, watching with dilated eyes and sweat dripping from his hairline as I slowly tear the cocaine package open until white snow is spilling from the top.
“Then why did you think it was a good idea to betray me and the family? Did you not consider that it wouldn’t come with consequences for turning on the family?” I say in a deep tone, finally letting the hate and disgust seep through my voice as he squirms while looking everywhere else but at me.
“I-I’m sorry! It won’t happen again,” he stutters, crying, and snot runs down his sweaty, red face.
“No, it won’t,” I calmly say, moving swiftly as he opens his mouth to reply. I shove the package of cocaine in his face, smothering him in it until that’s all he can breathe in.
I hold it there, watching as he stops struggling. After a minute, his head drops forward as his shoulders slump. Taking the package away, I grip his greasy hair and pull his head towards the ceiling. His pupils dilate as he stares at nothing, mumbling random words under his breath as the drugs flood his system.
“Keep giving him doses until he’s bleeding out of his nose and eyes, got it?” I stand and toss the package on the ground at Tony's feet, staring at my cousin with a raised brow until he nods in acknowledgment, his expression grim.
“Yeah, I got it. Do you want me to dispose of the body, or should I leave it as a warning?” Tony asks, already taking my place as I move away, dusting my hands together. I pull out a cigar, and Enzo appears out of nowhere with a lighter.
“Let’s give Victor a positive message: ‘Fuck around and find out.’ Removing attached limbs is optional, but ensure his tongue is cut out so he can’t speak, and also remove his fingers just in case. It doesn’t matter too much; either Marco will bleed out or Victor will kill him for ratting him out,” I mumble around my cigar, take a deep breath, blow the smoke out, and tip my head back to look up at the ceiling while thinking of the outcome.
“Anything else, boss?” Enzo mutters quietly, patiently waiting for my reply as I take some slow drags off the cigar.
“No. Just keep me posted. I have plans,” I say, flicking the cigar at Marco before checking my Rolex on my wrist. “I’m fucking late. Ciao.”
“Questa nostra cosa,” Enzo, my capo, mutters with a smirk in his voice, but I ignore him as I walk out of the building.
I hate being late for my special appointments.
It’s the only time I can relax and know she’s being kept safe until the time is right.
Hopefully, that time will arrive within the next few weeks.
Excitement crawls through my veins, settling deep into my bones, which leaves me feeling very… possessive? Obsessive? Probably both. I’m a sick bastard. I have done many terrible things and will continue to do so without her knowing. For years, I have been hiding in the shadows and watching her live her life without me.
Well, that’s about to change.
“What do you have for me?”I hold my hand out towards Vinny as I lean against my dark grey Rolls-Royce and remark how empty the streets are. Most people are probably already in bed for the night.
“Nothing really to report. The same old shit as usual, boss. Beat the shit out of a motherfucker who said some words to your lady. She ignored the people running their mouths, as she always does. The caretaker pretended not to notice anything.” Vinny places the folder in my open palm, cracking his knuckles as he watches me silently flip through the pages of reports of Iris’s day-to-day life and the photos taken.
I like photos.
They really capture a moment that most don’t bother to see in person, face-to-face.
Like how her cheeks are flushed from the walk around the park, or the vibrant red ribbon tied around her eyes that hides so much. I want her to uncover just for me, sliding the silk away and letting me see her scars. She’s still fucking gorgeous with or without the jagged tissue around her eyes. Her face is usually stoic and expressionless when she’s out in public. She considersit a shield so people don’t look past the mask they see. I can understand that. I wear my mask every single day as the Don.
My favorite moments are the small twitches of her blush-pink lips when something amuses her before her mask quickly falls back into place, but the camera always catches it for me to admire.
