Chapter 15
Chapter 15
Confusion fills Lucia Romano’s stare as she looks at me. “Family?” Swelling from last night still marks her eyes.
Such pain the Famiglia Rosetti have brought upon us. Worse pain they shall experience once my work is complete.
“Lucia, come,” I command, my stride carrying me forward without pause for her question.
“What brings us to this place, Santino?”
“Soon you will understand.”
The study door yields to my push, revealing men of varied builds filling the room. Suits clothe them all, their faces bearing mixtures of rough and polished features. Tattoos mark some, scars others, yet confidence radiates quietly from each.
“Santino! Home you have returned, my son!” booms an elder man, his voice embracing like warmth itself.
My eyes sweep the room with gentle acknowledgment. “Gentlemen.”
Wide grow Lucia’s eyes as she absorbs the scene. “These people - who might they be?” comes her whisper, her hand tugging my arm.
Her words I ignore, my attention fixed upon the men before me. “Our gathering’s purpose we must address. Much work awaits us.”
“Santino, dear boy,” speaks the elder again, his voice carrying gravel and depth as he approaches. His hands envelope mine, his grip speaking firmness. “Your parents’ deaths bring my deepest sorrow. Unpunished they shall not remain.”
Determination glints in my eyes as I smile. “For this reason I stand here - revenge!”
Approval gleams in his eyes as he nods. “Together we shall endure this trial, Santino. Payment from those responsible we shall extract.”
Toward Lucia I turn, coldness filling my voice. “Lucia, with Vito you must go. Your room he will reveal. Soon Ryker shall join our gathering.”
Pale grows her face, her eyes widening. “But Santino, I-”
Firm and loud rings my voice, cutting her sentence before completion. More pressing matters demand attention now. “Now, Lucia. A plan requires my attention.”
Forward steps Vito, sympathy in his eyes. “Come, Lucia. Settled I shall get you.”
Hesitation marks her before she nods, following Vito from the room.
“Gentlemen,” I declare, command filling my voice.
“Acquaintance we must make. Your identities reveal so the table may know you.”
Forward steps the first man, the same elder, burly with thick beard. “Alexandro Tarascio am I, head of the Tarascio family. The docks and shipping lanes under our control rest.”
My eyes lock with his as I nod. “Alexandro. Meeting you brings pleasure.”
Next speaks a lean, dark-haired man. “Marco Rossi I am, head of the Rossi family. The streets, drugs, and guns we command.”
Into a smile my face curves, approval glinting in my eyes. “Marco. Your… entrepreneurial spirit brings great reputation.”
Continue the introductions do, each man revealing name and family specialty. Carlos Morales exists, king of weapons and arms; finally stands the last man, a towering giant bearing a scar across his cheek.
“Sebastian Barnett I am, head of the Barnett family. Finances, money laundering, and dirty work we handle.”
My eyes lock with his as I nod. “Sebastian. A man who accomplishes tasks you are known to be.”
Smoke clouds form in the air as I release it, following my cigar’s deep drag. Around my face the smoke curls. “Gentlemen, the same page we all share brings gladness.”
“Santino Romano my name is, son of Don Antonio Rosetti and heir to the Rosetti empire.”
“No longer news the cause of my parents’ death remains. Yet unpunished it shall not stay. Together we shall work, as one team, to destroy our enemies and construct our empire.”
Silent falls the room, the men’s eyes fixing upon me with respect and fear mixed. My point has been made, I know. The new boss am I, and when I speak of not wishing disturbance, the message they shall receive.
“Enter!” I shout, my voice echoing from the walls. This moment already I was expecting.
Into the room one of my men pushes a battered, bruised figure, blindfolded and bound. The man stumbles and falls groundward, whimpering in pain.
“Ah, our guest meet.” With a kick to his abdomen, he groans, curling ball-like.
“This trash embezzled my father’s money, thinking escape possible after his death.” A laugh I cough out, pausing momentarily. “To Manhattan he attempted flight, but Dino uncovered his plans and caught him.”
With impassive faces the room’s men watch, their eyes cold and unyielding. To Dino’s eyes mine flicker and he nods greeting.
“You see, gentlemen,” I continue, menace dripping from my voice. “This shows what happens when the Rosetti family you attempt to cross. Caught you get, punished you become, and an example you are made.”
Down I lean, my face inches from the man’s terrified expression. “Everything you will tell me, and everything I mean. Where the money rests, who aided you, and who else involvement holds?”
Frantically the man nodded, tears streaming down his face. “I’ll tell you; everything I’ll tell you!”
“Good. Each other we understand brings gladness.”
Silent falls the room, only the man’s sobs and heavy breathing of surrounding men providing sound. Up I straighten, my eyes never leaving the man’s face.
“Begin we shall, shall we not?”
Hard enough I punch his face that blood he spits out.
“Roma it was. Roma helped me steal the money.”
Fuck. That asshole I had trusted, to think. Father had sent him here to help with Miami’s business.
Tight I grip his shirt and pull him closer to me.
“You lie!”
“On my father’s grave I swear, Roma it was who helped me. Together we stole the money and planned to run away before Dino caught me.”
“Where the fuck is my money?”
On his shirt I tighten my grip, taking a fistful of cloth.
“Gone it is. That bastard double-crossed me.”
In swift manner my fists connect to his jaw. No one fucking messes with my business. In pain he wails as my grip keeps him up.
“Lying I am not. Roma left me with nothing. He fucking deceived me.”
To Vito I turn.
“Roma get for me. Right now!”
More than betrayers working for me nothing I hate. This one an example for the rest I’ll make.
In fury’s fit, a frenzy of kicks I unleash, each one landing with sickening thud. In agony the man’s body contorts, his screams echoing off walls. Everywhere blood splatters, like gruesome painter’s canvas. The floors, furniture, and even my suit it stains. His head repeatedly I kick until like ripe fruit it bursts, splashing blood and brain matter everywhere.
Frozen for a moment the room is and the men watch with surprising expressions. Impressed they look. Still, dare to move or speak none do. Heavy with blood and death’s stench the air is.
A white handkerchief I pull out and wipe my face, smearing blood across my cheeks. Crimson stains the fabric, grotesque contrast to its original purity.
Motionless the man’s body lays, his eyes frozen in permanent scream and his face a macabre mask of terror. Over him I stand, my chest pounding.
“No one fucking messes with me.” Silent is the room as I spit on the dead body and the seated men now shift uncomfortably in their seats. “By my fucking rules everyone plays.”
In my pocket my phone rings as I walk from the room. Castor it is. The extra spy I hired to check on the Famiglia Rosetti while I build Miami’s empire. My revenge I will have at any cost, and I won’t stop, even if six feet beneath the ground I am.
“Hello, Castor, on Colina’s movements fill me in. Know I want what that backstabbing bitch is up to.”