CHAPTER 2 #2
“Fuck! Fuck, you’re a dead man, Alessandro!” Leonardo wailed as he fell, clutching his leg. Blood pooled under him. I turned to see Bruno and the others handling the stragglers, then watched Leonardo go limp.
“Well, what do we have here?”
Salvatore came up behind me and dropped a firm hand on my shoulder as he watched the body. Salvatore was another adopted brother — one of the best men I had. Legends. Brothers by name and by blood-in-bond.
“Take him to the warehouse and keep him alive. We need to talk,” I said, shoving the gun back into my waistband.
“You got it,” Salvatore said and dragged Leonardo out of the hallway, toward the stairs.
Hours later, after we’d kept a close eye on the bastard tied to a chair, I’d had enough. I told Salvatore to dig.
“Alessandro, this asshole’s clean,” Salvatore reported, scrolling through an iPad — the only light in the room. “Records show he worked with us, but nothing after that. No trail to D’Angelo.”
My fists clenched so hard I wanted to smash the screen.
We had everything set; D’Angelo should’ve been dead.
But the bastard moved, slipped to a new location we couldn’t find.
Five years of planning almost wasted because of one rat.
I swore to myself nothing would slip this time. I’d hunt him down. I’d kill him.
A groan cut through the room. Heads snapped to Leonardo.
Salvatore set the iPad down. Bruno handed me a gun and a knife.
Leonardo’s eyes opened. He was tied to a chair, ropes biting into him, his injured leg bringing fresh waves of pain.
He tried to move and winced. I watched him struggle, fists tight. Salvatore nodded.
“Don’t,” Bruno warned. “Sit still, tigrotto. The pain’ll get worse. We don’t want your dead body yet.” Bruno grabbed a fistful of Leonardo’s hair and yanked his head up so he faced us. I nodded and stepped forward, kneeling to watch his pale, disoriented face.
“You did good, Ferrazzo,” Leonardo groaned, teeth biting down to hide the pain.
I stared back with nothing but hate. It wasn’t just the betrayal — it was that he’d tied himself to D’Angelo, the man I wanted dead most. I wanted to end him fast, but I needed answers.
I’d make him suffer slowly when the time came.
“I told you to watch and learn, didn’t I?” I said, standing, watching his face twist with pain. “Do you know why you’re here, Leonardo?”
“No,” he retorted. “Fill me in, cazzo, because I really have no idea.” His voice was tired, laced with sarcasm — it made my jaw clench. I wasn't having it. He came here; he wasn't leaving alive.
“Well, you’re here because you had the balls to come to my brothel and cause havoc, so now you’re going to repent for your mistakes,” I growled. “Also — I want word on D’Angelo’s location.”
Leonardo laughed, head sagging toward his shoulder. “D’Angelo’s location? No chance.” He rolled his eyes and closed them.
“Wake up, sleepy fuck!” Bruno snapped, yanking his head back. “Now is not the time for beauty sleep. Answer the question before I shoot your brains out!”
Leonardo whimpered; sweat plastered his hair to his forehead, his clothes a mess, trousers stained. Bruno slapped his cheeks until the man’s eyes popped open.
“What the fuck is D’Angelo planning?” I asked, waving my gun inches from his face. He watched me, then laughed weakly.
“Ferrazzo, you really think I came here to tell you what D’Angelo’s planning? No. But there’s one thing I can tell you — something I should’ve told you when I got here. Would’ve given you time to prepare, to say the least.”
I straightened, glanced at Bruno, then shot Salvatore an asking look. Salvatore nodded and stepped away to check. I grabbed Leonardo by the hair and yanked his head back, nearly snapping his neck. He hissed; his eyes were bloodshot.
“Speak now, or so God help me, ti sparo alla gola,” I bellowed, staring into his lazy eyes.
Leonardo laughed again — tired, defiant. “Your brothel — the new business — should be up in pieces now. I planted a present for you there. Unfortunately, it couldn’t go off while you were there.”
“What the fuck...” Bruno muttered. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He cursed under his breath.
“He stole your merchandise and your club,” Leonardo continued, smug. “D’Angelo’s planning to open his own business. Hope you don’t mind?” His words stung. If I let this slide, my whole operation could be ash. I couldn’t risk that.
I raised my gun and leveled it at his face. Salvatore returned with the iPad and stood close.
“The motherfucker blew up the place and hacked our accounts,” Salvatore said. “Don’t worry — I froze the accounts and assets.” Relief tightened my chest; we’d have lost millions otherwise.
Leonardo still smirked. “We’ve had a good catch-up,” I said. “Unfortunately, you’re not reliable anymore. It was fun while it lasted, traditore.” I stepped closer for a better shot.
“You wouldn’t,” he laughed, but his bravado died when I shoved the gun into his mouth. His eyes widened; his body tensed.
“Ci vediamo all’inferno, Gusto,” he cried, incoherent. I clenched my jaw and pulled the trigger. The bullet drilled from the back of his throat out his head. He spasmed, then slumped. Blood sprayed across Bruno. The gunshot echoed in my ears.
Bruno made a face, wiping the blood off. I smirked and looked back at Leonardo, probably dead.
Enemy blood satisfied me, especially when it ran under my boots. Leonardo’s slumped body bled into the chair and the floor; his white shirt soaked through. The sight would horrify some — to me it was routine. This is how we stayed alive. This is how the mafia stayed alive.
“Ragazzi, my work here is done. Handle the rest,” I said, grabbing a towel to wipe my hands. “Salvatore, be generous — deliver his body to his family in one piece after you’re done.”
“One piece? You sure?” Salvatore asked. I nodded and headed for the door.
“Got it!” he answered, and Salvatore and Bruno untied the body. Leonardo fell to the floor. I clenched my jaw, stared at him from a distance. D’Angelo was going to regret ever testing me.
I’m going to make him feel what he put Ariana through.
It’s a promise. I’ll keep it — for Ariana’s peace.
***
“COME IN,” I ANSWERED as a knock hit the door. Salvatore stepped in; I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my temples.
“Is it done?” I asked.
“He’s finished, and so was the job. His body was delivered with one of his men,” Salvatore said. “However, he caused a lot of damage. What are we going to do about it?”
“That’s not my biggest concern right now, Salvatore. We need to think about what we’re going to do next. The fucker already jeopardised our plan once and I won’t let him do it again.”
“What do you mean it’s not your fucking concern? This is our territory and he came here to ruin it!” he growled. “Seriously, Alessandro — you need to move on this fast, because things aren’t looking good for us.”
“I’m fucking working on it, you know that. What we need right now is a fuckton of men so when we find where the bastard is, those men can hit him.” I stood and walked to the window, voice tight with frustration.
“What if I told you we can do something about it?” Salvatore said.
“Salvatore, now’s not the time to fuck about.” I turned from the window, glaring. “What is it? Spill.”
Salvatore smiled, smirked even, and sat in the chair opposite my desk. I watched him move, impatient. This cunt loved testing my patience.
I leaned on the table, arms folded. “You know, it’d be helpful if you told me what we can do about this situation,” I said.
“Oh? You wanted to know? You could’ve just asked,” Salvatore replied, making my jaw clench.
He cut me off before I could snap. “I know D’Angelo’s going to Italy to seal a business deal.
I don’t have the exact date yet, but I’m working on it.
” He paused as I nodded for him to continue.
“If he leaves America, the assassination gets easier — especially in Italy. We get him there: clean, cut, run.”
Realization hit. Salvatore had a good plan. I stopped glaring and sat back in my chair.
“Now... that fratello, isn’t such a bad idea,” I said. “Find out when he leaves for Italy. Until then, stay put and stay cautious. We just killed his bitch; the cocksucker will definitely be looking for us.”
Waiting for D’Angelo to go to Italy made sense. Killing him here would only escalate things; in Italy we could catch him off guard — and he’d already caught me off guard. I’d spent years building this; I’d sweat and bleed for it. I’d do it for Ariana.
“Alessandro, one more thing.” Salvatore pulled me back from my thoughts. I looked up. He continued, “When we were disposing of Leonardo’s body, we found his phone. We went through it and found texts between him and D’Angelo.”
My brows knotted. This was impossible. My ears burned with a slow, rising rage. “Vicenzo?” I heard Salvatore say, and the word hit harder than I wanted. Vicenzo had been the previous Italian mafia leader before me — a fraud in many ways.
“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Salvatore asked, dragging me out of my head. I shook my head, refusing to accept it. I already had enough on my plate.
“Vicenzo?” I shook my head again. “I don’t think he’s involved with him. He wouldn’t be a traitor to us.”
“You never know, Alessandro. People change behind our backs. Look what Gusto did and look where he is now.”
As much as I didn’t want to believe it, I had this strong feeling it would be.