AllFreeNovel
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I’m a man of principle and we don’t kill children. Children are innocents, and I do not buy into the bullshit ‘sins of the father’ adage. So I refused. Scarlett broke up with me shortly after that, claiming I didn’t have the “drive” or “commitment” to get things done.
She ended up having the playground shot up anyway, and the driver’s son was killed, much to her satisfaction.
Although our relationship is strained, I do respect Mario Rafa. He’s a vestige of the old guard, a link to the fading days of the Sicilian omertà. Mario does his best to restrain Scarlett’s more psychotic tendencies, but—as evidenced by the schoolyard massacre—he does turn a blind eye to them.
I get it. Sometimes it’s easier to just let Scarlett do whatever she wants instead of dealing with her consequences.
My bodyguards part and allow my guests entry.
“Uncle Vinny,” I say, refusing to stand up. “Mario. I trust we’re all keeping good health?”
The two men murmur similar pleasantries. I snap my fingers, and two more comfortable chairs are brought forward.
I study Mario as he takes a seat. He looks every inch of the classic Mob Boss straight out of another era. Now in his early seventies, his once-muscular frame has thickened with age, the finely tailored suit straining slightly against his barreled chest. His snow white hair is trimmed in a severe military style, slicked back from his lined face. Despite his age, Mario’s eyes still radiate an intense, cunning intelligence.
“I’ll get right to it,” Uncle Vinny says, plucking up a Cuban cigar and lighting it up. A cloud of blue smoke wafts toward the ceiling. “Mario needs help finding someone.”
I raise an eyebrow and turn my glance toward Mario. “Is this true?”
Mario slides a manila envelope toward me. I glance at Edo, who nods and takes the envelope and opens it to reveal a folded up piece of paper and several photographs.
Edo furrows his brow as he hands me the paper, and I skim the contents. It looks like a contract between The Brotherhood and some man named Mark Abernathy.
“What am I looking at?”
Mario leans forward. “Mark Abernathy is our latest recruit,” he says, his voice gravelly. “In order to show his loyalty to The Brotherhood and to initiate him as a full member, Mark promised us a young virgin. We fronted him a lot of money in order to ensure he brings her to us.”
While my face remains cool and impassive, I internally grimace. The Brotherhood is one of the richest crime families in the Chicago area because of their proclivities in human trafficking. It's a distasteful, nasty business and an area I refuse to get into.
Trafficking drugs? Sure. My customers choose to pay money to get high. Trafficking humans? Absolutely not. There’s no choice, no agency in the matter for those girls.
“Your first mistake was giving Mark the money before he gave you the goods,” I say, tossing the contract down.
Mario’s eyes narrow. “You got a problem with how I run my business, Damian?”
I shrug. “Maybe I do.”
Uncle Vinny holds up a placating hand. “Easy, fellas. Let’s not let tempers get out of hand here. We’re all friends.”
I want to scoff. Yeah, friends indeed. Rule number one in the Mafia world. You don’t have friends. You merely have uneasy truces, and one small spark will reignite a blaze of violence.
“Besides,” Uncle Vinny says. “I’m sure Damian didn’t mean any disrespect. It’s all a little misunderstanding.”
I scowl at having to acquiesce, but I understand the game we’re playing here. “Yeah, just a little misunderstanding, Mario. It won’t happen again.”
Mario studies me. “See that it doesn’t.”
What I wouldn’t do to put a bullet through his head right now. But instead of doing so, I wave a hand. “Continue.”
“Mark locked the girl up as apparently, the idiot told her what the plan was. He called us so we could come get our artifact. By the time we showed up, the girl had escaped.”
I raise an eyebrow. “How did she escape?”
“A window in the basement,” Mario spits out. “The idiot didn’t bother securing the perimeter.”
And this is someone you’re willing to let enter your organization? The retort is on the tip of my tongue, but I hold it back. It’s clear that Mario is already on edge.
“Mario needs your help in finding this girl,” Vinny cuts in, fingers curling around the armrests of his chair. “The Iacopellis have always been excellent in tracking people down.”
