26. Salvatore #2
“As long as you abide by the rules of your master.” I extend my vision out in the room. “Take it from me, boys, as someone who is probably the most hated person in this room—you never win.”
“Not when you fall in love,” adds David.
Laugher follows as David wins over the crowd, doing what he does best. Acting.
“Running a public campaign about orphans may have been too close to home,” continues David. “But it worked. Nothing beats a good adrenaline rush.” He narrows his eyes down on me. “Tell me, Salvatore, when was the last time you felt the adrenaline of doing something dangerous?”
The adrenaline faded a long fucking time ago, the second I realized none of this was worth it.
“Sticking your cock into your assistant’s pussy certainly doesn’t count as adrenaline.”
The Crows laugh, a horrible high-pitched chirping sound echoing through the room. Some of these kids haven’t even fully hit puberty.
They’re too young to be here. Too vulnerable and easy to manipulate.
Anger heats my blood, but I contain it for the time being. David will be paying for these vulgar comments soon.
I know how to contain the fire, to keep it burning without getting burned in the process.
David will be burning, and as I murder him, he will beg for forgiveness.
“What was the deal with Lenny Foster?”
“One of my Crows took care of that lanky fuck.”
Ophelia shifts in my peripheral vision, her eyes widening. Of course. She was under the impression at first that I murdered him. David staged the whole thing, raising money in front of the cameras, paying doctors off behind closed doors.
I shake my head, trying to understand how David could get away with something this big. “The hospital would never go ahead and euthanize—"
“Even when I fill their pockets with millions?” A smile crawls onto David’s face. “I promised to take care of any scandals or lawsuits, should any come their way. Hospitals can be fragile places. All it takes is one small human error, and the entire establishment could go up in flames.”
“Same as your reputation,” I say.
I walk over to Ophelia, removing the tape from her mouth. Her eyes are wide with fear, tears slipping down her face as I approach her.
“Salvatore,” she whispers, grabbing my attention. “Stop. You have no idea what you’re doing.”
“She’s right,” says David, walking over.
“Ophelia gave you quite the scare, didn’t she?” I fold my arms over my chest, watching David approach me. “You remember what Renato told us about that ladder.”
“Oh, the ladder,” he drawls. “He loved his analogies. You can’t knock something down when it is already on the ground. That is why I built my base underground.” He gestures to the trap door.
“Clever.”
Ophelia breathes heavily beside me, still trapped to the chair. Her gaze shifts from frightened, becoming something harder. “You are pure evil.”
“Thanks for the compliment,” quips David, walking back out into the room. “You can leave the tape off, Salvatore. I would quite like to hear your little sparrow scream.”
Anger judders through my body, but I contain the rage, encouraging my men to stay back, including Robert.
David follows my gaze, tipping his chin at an old friend. “Rob, nice to see you made it to the party. You were always a follower, weren’t you?”
“Seems like you’re the same,” he says. “What do you want?”
“Let’s make this simple.” David turns to his Crows, snapping his fingers.
One of the boys steps forward, his eyes full of hunger as he produces a document, handing it over to his leader.
Poison swims in his eyes, his face twisting into something cruel as he looks at me. I must be popular around here.
These boys will be fighting over who gets to kill me first.
And I don’t blame them. I stay away from the cameras. I don’t donate to good causes or present myself in likeable ways.
Like Vivian Bennett said, I sit on my throne of dead bodies, and I only fill my own cup. There are no good causes. Everything is tainted, nothing is genuine. Being liked just means you’re a good actor.
Why should I pretend to do good in the world when I know I’m bad?
David steps forward, handing over an official document and a pen.
“Sign your empire over to me, including Moretti Global and the rest of your assets.”
“And what happens if I refuse?”
David looks pointedly in Ophelia’s direction. Two Crows appear, each holding a gun at her temple.
I would give my life, every last fucking cent. But what happens when Ophelia and I leave here? Who do I become? How do I protect the sun when I have no means to my name? No power?
This doesn’t end in victory. If I sign on the dotted line and hand everything over, I lose everything.
David will never stop pushing. He eats away like a parasite until nothing remains, and if I hand everything over today, he will return and take Ophelia away.
He has never played fair. He never sticks to his word.
With no mafia, how do I defend Ophelia? How do I promise her a safe life if I have nothing?
I might win the battle tonight, but a war is coming.
The war commences tonight, and I claim victory.
I glance at Ophelia, catching her eyes. I need her to trust me.
“Some of us want to get some sleep tonight,” says David, hurrying me along. “What will it be, Moretti? The empire or the girl?”
“Both,” I say, barreling straight for David without hesitation.
My men act, bullets exploding. They charge toward the two boys, knocking the guns from their hands.
I sigh with relief, my Ophelia safe for the time being.
Robert and the rest of my men enter the room, heading over to the rest of the Crows.
Gunpowder smoke fills the room, distorting my vision. I squint through the haze, watching boys fall to the ground.
My heart flips, guilt slowing me down as I see multiple helpless boys fall.
They’re sacrificing themselves for a man who doesn’t even care.
Gunshots fire around me, my heartbeat drumming as time slows right down. I can still hear the young girl screaming, the past returning as I visualize David in the alleyway dripping innocent blood onto the floor. Nothing is too outrageous. If there is a line, David will find a way to cross it.
I shove the bastard to the ground, pushing away the guilt, focusing on the task at hand.
But every gunshot rattles me, sending me back to that place. The dark times never truly went away, not until Ophelia walked into my life, like the sun breaking through gray clouds.
I grip David’s shoulder, pinning him to the ground. A body thumps beside me, the crow tattoo gushing blood from a wound.
I zero in on the wound, on the boy who just wanted to survive.
David catches me off guard, the most gut-wrenching smile crawling onto his face.
“You murder your own kind.”
I curl my hand into a fist, punching him in the face.
But I’m dragged away before I can keep going with the damage.
Climbing to my feet, I turn around and see three Crow boys looking at me hungrily, ready to feast.
“Killing me won’t cure the hunger,” I tell them.
“You kill David, we kill her,” says one of them, gesturing to Ophelia.
My heart wrenches when I glance over at her. Two new boys have assumed their position, taking over after the others. They kick their fallen aside, blood smearing across the ground as they push their deceased friends away like they mean nothing.
Some seem to handle death better than others. The boy closest to me looks like he wants to go home, but he’s never been there. The closest he gets to that place is in his dreams, if he is lucky enough to close his eyes at night and have pleasant ones.
“Listen to what I said. You will never survive this. Your friend shot himself in the head the other day. This man sees you as a weapon, not a human being.”
“I would rather be seen as a weapon.”
“Being human is a fucking death sentence,” says another, glancing over at Ophelia.
“And you think working for a conman will give you everything you desire?” I rip off my shirt, ruining a thousand-dollar garment to make a point. After screwing up the shirt, throwing it away, I gesture to my chest. “The past fades, but it never goes away.”
“Full of inspirational quotes, this one,” chides one of the other boys, raising a gun to my head.
Ophelia’s screams fill my room, drowning me in sorrow.
“Please,” she sobs, knowing I won’t retaliate or defend myself when it comes to these boys. “Stop.”
I stare right down the barrel of the gun, waiting for the boy to shoot.
“Kill your arch nemesis. Pass your final test, seek your revenge, and wake up tomorrow full of confidence, ready to take on whatever life throws at you next. You can do anything, kill enemies, defend yourself. But try looking at yourself in the mirror.” I stare deep into the boy’s eyes, holding his soul accountable.
“See who you will become in decades to come.”
The boy averts his eyes, finger trembling over the trigger.
“Look!” I command. “Look into my eyes and see yourself. See your worst enemy. Your arch nemesis.”
Fear flashes across the boy’s face. He gulps, lowering the gun, flashing his two friends a nervous look.
I sigh, relief swimming through me. Am I finally starting to get through to these kids?
I turn to Ophelia, seeing her relax a little. The Crows are no longer holding her at gunpoint.
I look around the room, surprised to find other Crows lowering their weapons. Realization settles on their face.
Fuck, how many of them were listening in?
Not all. But enough for me to actually make a difference and save some lives tonight.
An arm grabs me from behind, shoving me to the floor. I retaliate, grabbing David, throwing him over my shoulder.
He rolls onto his back, but quickly climbs back up to his feet.
More Crows barrel forward, and in the corner of my eye, I see one of the enforcers lunge forward.
“No more boys die,” I shout. “Take your hands off him.”
The Crow smirks, using this to his advantage.
The room splits, some boys disappearing down the trapdoor; others retaliating.
I see the bloodlust shining in their eyes. Some of these boys won’t stop until they’re painting the walls with my blood.