3. Massimo
Chapter 3
Massimo
T he man jerked against the ropes that bound him tightly to the metal chair, the only piece of furniture in the dank basement beneath the Camorra bar. Upstairs, Gian and Enzo would be longing for their turn to prove themselves, probably tossing and turning in their makeshift beds in the back room that we’d made our home for the last four years. The brothers were as eager as I was to become camorrista. We’d paid our dues and run errands for the Bernardi clan—everything from selling their product on the street to carrying out minor robberies, usually for booze.
Tonight, it was my time to become a man. Their opportunity would come soon enough.
The captive man was rail thin, with visible track marks on his skinny arms. His dirty clothes hung loose on his scrawny frame, but I couldn’t see his face. Someone had shoved a black hood over his head, and, judging by the muffled sounds coming from beneath it, he was gagged.
Cesare Salerno loomed behind his captive, cold black eyes glinting with amusement at the man’s predicament. His thin lips were stretched into a semblance of a smile, but there was no warmth behind it. In his impeccably tailored suit, he might’ve passed for a suave gentleman, if you didn’t look too closely at his maniacal expression.
We all knew to tread carefully around the notorious sadist and sociopath, who was renowned for making his enemies suffer before they died. He was a powerful man, and one day, he would probably be head of the clan. He was vicious and ruthless, with a cruel streak that made him one of the most feared men in Le Vele.
Salerno’s dark eyes flashed beneath the spare lightbulb that barely illuminated the concrete space, his inhuman gaze cutting straight into my soul. “I have a job for you, Massimo.”
“Anything,” I replied eagerly, ready to carry out any task he demanded of me. This was the first time I’d ever been alone with Salerno—well, alone except for his captive. He’d called me down here, and I’d known that this was my chance to make an impression. To become one of his brothers in blood. I would get out of this shitty bar, out of this shitty neighborhood. Gian and Enzo would get out with me. We’d made a pact, and none of us would leave the others behind.
Salerno fisted the hood and jerked it off his captive’s head. Just as I’d suspected, the man was gagged, a dirty length of cloth drawn tightly between his yellowed teeth. Sweat drenched his sun-weathered brow, and his eyes were wild with panic.
“Do you know this man?” Salerno asked.
I studied his fear-twisted features. “No.”
Salerno gripped the man’s hair, yanking his head back so that I could see his face clearly. “Look at him. Memorize his face. Burn it into your mind.”
I nodded, obeying. I studied the dirty man as though he was an insect I would grind beneath my boot.
“You’re going to kill him.” Salerno’s cold command froze the blood in my veins.
My heart stuttered, but I kept my face impassive. I’d never killed anyone before. I waved a gun around to get people’s attention when I needed to, and occasionally, I drew blood with my knife. But I always avoided killing.
My mother’s empty, caramel eyes flickered through my mind, the memory of her final look of horror tormenting me.
I straightened my shoulders and faced Salerno.
“Why?” I asked, jerking my chin at the bound man. “What did he do?”
A hint of a smirk played around the corners of Salerno’s mouth. He was enjoying this.
“You’ll never know. You’ll kill him because I ordered you to. Won’t you, Massimo?” The last was a snake’s challenging hiss.
My mind churned, and I struggled to force down the macabre images of my parents’ dead bodies. They’d been innocent, and the gang had gunned them down for no reason.
I’d forsaken my father’s pacifism long ago, but the prospect of turning into the same kind of monster who’d murdered him turned my blood cold.
I tipped my chin back and met Salerno squarely in the eye, knowing better than to show a moment of weakness. “And if I don’t?”
With the swiftness of a striking viper, he drew the gun that was holstered at his side. It trained directly on my heart, and I stopped breathing.
“Then you’ll die tonight instead.”
I swallowed hard, but I kept my shoulders straight. “I don’t know this man. Why should I kill him? He hasn’t wronged me.”
“This isn’t about right and wrong,” Salerno sneered. “This is about loyalty. This is about doing what you’re told. Only one of you is leaving this basement. You get to choose who is breathing when we’re finished here. It’s you or him. Camorrista or death. You want to be one of us, don’t you?”
“Yes.” My answer was immediate and vehement. I’d longed for this moment of acceptance. I just hadn’t realized what I’d have to do to earn it.
“Then prove it,” he snapped. “I’m getting bored, and I might just shoot you both if you keep asking stupid questions.”
He was still pointing the gun at my chest, but I knew better than to hesitate. I boldly strode toward him, closing the distance between us in smooth strides. I took even breaths and willed my hand not to shake as I lifted it to accept the weapon.
He offered me a savage grin and gave me the gun. My fingers felt numb, but I’d handled a weapon often enough that I could hold it by muscle memory.
I stepped in front of the bound man and pressed the barrel to his forehead, right between his eyes. I could at least make this quick for him.
Because there wasn’t a choice at all. This was about more than becoming camorrista ; this was about survival. And I’d always done what was necessary to survive. Salerno would kill us both if I hesitated. I wasn’t willing to end up dead for the kind of foolish principles that’d ruled my father’s moral compass. There was no point in both of us dying here tonight.
“Wait.”
My heart leapt into my throat. For a moment, I thought I’d passed the test, and Salerno would let us both go.
Then he removed the man’s gag.
“Please don’t kill me. Please. I have a family. I have three children. They need me to put food on the table. Please, don’t do this.” The pleas left his bloody lips in a panicked stream. I had no way of knowing if they were true.
He could be lying.
Or his children might starve without him to provide for them.
I glanced at Salerno. For an insane moment, I considered turning the gun on him and shooting a bullet into his black heart.
But then I would be an enemy of the Camorra. Gian and Enzo would try to protect me, and we’d all be hunted down like dogs. We’d die in the squalor of Le Vele , and no one would mourn us.
I wouldn’t allow my friends to die because of me.
I looked directly into the bound man’s eyes. They were dark green, turned almost black by his dilated pupils. He continued to beg for his life, but his pleas were drowned by the ringing in my ears. I burned his face into my mind. Not because Salerno had commanded it, but because I owed the man that much. I would remember this until the day I died. I would remember him and carry the burden of his death forever. It was a twisted sort of tribute to him, and it was all I could offer.
It took the barest movement of my forefinger to squeeze the trigger. It shouldn’t be so easy to kill a man.
I should’ve used a knife. Having his blood on my hands might’ve made everything feel more real. I should feel his death in every way possible. Such a violent end should be visceral. And a man should have a chance to defend himself.
I’d shot him right between his eyes and ended his life in less than one of my own selfish heartbeats.
Salerno was laughing quietly. He clapped me on the back and took the gun from my numb fingers.
I followed him out of the basement, leaving the dank space as a man. The half-starved, desperate boy who’d descended these concrete stairs only minutes ago had died in the same instant I’d ended my victim’s life. I’d just attained everything I’d ever wanted, and my soul was screaming because of it.
“Massimo.” Evelyn’s soft voice soothed my wounded soul like a healing balm. “Massimo, wake up.”
I buried my face in her silken hair, breathing in her floral scent to ground myself in the present. I wasn’t that weak boy anymore. I’d killed plenty more men since that night I became a man. I’d lost count of how many had died by my hand.
But unlike that night, I always killed with a purpose. I had my own code of honor and sense of justice, something that Salerno would never understand. He was my boss now, as cruel and conniving as ever. But Gian, Enzo, and I had become powerful enough that he didn’t often command us to cross our own moral lines. Even the most loyal dog would bite if cornered.
We were loyal to our clan, not Salerno personally. But until the day came when we were able to overthrow the bastard, we had to owe him our fealty. The day of reckoning was coming soon now that we’d made this deal with Duarte and Rodríguez.
“What are you thinking?” Evelyn murmured, trailing her soft fingers through my curls. The light scrape of her nails over my scalp sent tingles down my spine. “Tell me about your dream.”
I shook my head. I would never tell her about that awful night. There were some darker details about my past that she didn’t need to know. She would turn from me in revulsion, and I couldn’t bear that.
“Look at me,” she cajoled, tugging lightly at my hair.
My eyes locked on hers. They glittered through the darkness of the night, capturing the city lights that shone through the dimmed floor to ceiling window. The stars in her eyes were stunning, hypnotic.
“I’m not a good man,” I heard myself confess, the truth drawn from deep in my soul. I’d always known it, but I’d never allowed myself to contemplate it. I was unapologetic of my violent lifestyle because I knew the darker truths of the world.
But my parents would be ashamed of what I’d become. And now, I clung to precious Evelyn with bloodstained hands.
“I can’t change what I am. But I will be good to you, farfallina . I swear.”
She caressed my cheek, and I leaned into the tender touch. “I don’t want you to change,” she said in a fierce whisper. “I accept who you are, Massimo. All of you.”
“You don’t know all of me,” I admitted.
And she never would. I would shield her from the cruelest aspects of my life.
The stars danced in her eyes. “I’ve seen who you are. You’ve shown me so many times. You always do what you think is right. You’re loyal to the people you care about, and you protect innocent people. You’re not cruel or callous.”
“I’m a dangerous man,” I warned her.
“I know,” she replied evenly. “That doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
I placed my hand over her heart.
How do you feel about me? I barely kept the question locked in my chest. I loved this woman, and the prospect that she didn’t share the depth of my feelings unnerved me. In time, she would love me as I loved her. I wouldn’t settle for anything less than soul-deep devotion. She was already addicted to my touch, and I knew she felt affection for me. That was enough for now.
Soon, we would start our new life together in Italy. I would help Gian and Enzo with their coup. And I would be powerful and wealthy enough to keep Evelyn safe and blissfully happy.
She would love me. She didn’t have a choice.