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“Marcire All’ inferno. (Rot in hell.)” I slit his throat in one swift move. His eyes bulge out of their sockets as blood splatters from the cut. After a few seconds of repressed groans, his head falls open with the slit cut in sight.
I clean the blood on his body and move to the first that I had beaten up.
“Who is ready to fucking talk?”
My gaze shifts from each of them, giving them a minute to rethink their decisions and open their damn mouths. No one does. That’s the thing about mafia gangs—they’d rather die than be a ratto (rat).
“Fanculo a tutti voi (Fuck all of you)!” I drive the knife into his thigh, and he yells in pain, cursing in Italian.
“Pistola (Pistol)!” I command, stretching my palm out to one of my men. He hands over a pistol to me and I point it to the head of the man I stabbed in the thigh. I pull the trigger, sending a bullet through his head and I repeat the same for the two more by his side. I’m about to kill the last one when he stops me.
“Stop. Please fucking stop. Adriana is at her father’s house.”
I turn to glance at Daniel. He stares at me and walks out of the room immediately. The prisoner is breathing heavily, with sweat rolling down his face. He looks terrified, looking at me.
“He locked her in there. I swear. Please don’t kill me.”
“Too late, cagna (bitch).”
I send a bullet through his chest and spit on his face. “Get rid of the bodies!” Luckily one of my men's family owns a morgue, so it's just another body they can cremate.
Daniel has his back resting on the building when I walk outside. He has another lit cigar in his hand.
“Why did you leave?”
I join him by the wall, signaling to him to give me a cigar. He draws out a pack from the pocket of his brown leather jacket and opens it for me to pick one.
“I couldn’t take it any longer.” He grabs a lighter from the other side of his pocket and flicks it on. I fix the cigar in between my lips and bend to have Daniel light it up for me.
“You’ve become soft.”
He stares back at the lonely street, with only the moonlight illuminating the night. It doesn’t look like people still live around here.
“You’ve become just like your father.”
I take a drag and release the cloud of smoke in the air. A moment passes between us as we both stare into the dark, empty space, smoking our cigars.
“Did you kill him?” I ask, breaking the silence.
“What do you think?”
“I don’t know what to fucking believe anymore.”
Daniel turns to look me dead in the eye. His eyebrows are narrowed, and his green eyes are blazing with anger.
“I wish I did but whoever the fuck did it was faster. I should have put a bullet in his fucking heart a long time ago.” He takes a slow drag of his cigar. “E lui può anche marcire all ‘inferno (And he may as well rot in hell),” he adds.
I turn to him and pin him to the wall with my elbow hooked on his neck. “Don’t you fucking say that about him.”
“Fuck you, Ale!” He grunts and pushes me off.
“He’s gone now. You’ve got what you wanted.”
“It wasn’t my bullet through his heart. But yeah, I’m glad he’s gone. I just hate to watch you become like him.”
“What the fuck do you mean?” I’m restricting myself from lunging at him and delivering a punch to his fucking mouth.
“All of these. You fucking killed all five of them just to get what you wanted. I’m tired, man. There should be another way to go about business.”
