Years of training with the FBI and my own crime family kicked in, I hit Dante’s forearm with my hand, the knife fell to the floor as I shoved him against the wall and pulled both hands behind his back, rendering him incapable of doing anything except giving me a backward head butt.
“Let’s speak plainly, hmm?” I slammed him against the wall harder. “I will not hesitate to end you. Really, you should take it as a compliment. I have over 40 kills to my name. I am a trained assassin. I will not hesitate. I never hesitate. You’re a damn child, a pawn in a man’s war. Pull a knife on me again in front of your sister, and I’ll use that same knife to cut out your tongue. Piece. By. Piece.”
Dante didn’t flinch, but he did smile.
And I, honest to God, wanted to slit his throat for it.
“Don’t test me.” I grunted releasing him from my grip. “I’ve killed people for less.”
His eyes finally averted as he stepped away from me, briefly touching the spot on his throat where I’d placed the blade.
It wasn’t two seconds before I felt the tip of a gun pressed against my back.
“Nobody comes into our home and threatens our blood!” I wasn’t sure which of the old men it was, but I was sure of one thing.
Frank.
He was watching.
And laughing.
What the ever loving hell?
“I really don’t want to send you into a nursing home, old man.” I shook my head. “Put the gun down.”
Frank crossed his arms and leaned casually against the wall. Should I offer popcorn? The bastard was enjoying every minute of the show!
The gun pressed harder.
“What do you think, Frank?” I nodded toward him. “Six seconds?”
He grunted. “You losing your touch?”
I shrugged. “I was trying to be humble.”
“Hah.” His shoulders shook with laughter. “You don’t wear humility well, son.”
I grinned. “Don’t I know it.”
“One.” I elbowed the man in the ribs and ducked to my right as I pulled the gun over my shoulder and flipped him over my body, he fell against the ceramic tile just as I slid my foot across the floor taking another one of the men down. Dante surged toward me. With another kick and then a punch to his jaw he was down.
“Four!” Frank called out.
“Kinda busy!” I yelled, as the last man charged me. I used his momentum against him; the minute he hit my body with his, I slammed my hands against his chest then lifted him into the air and threw him to his back on the floor.
“Five.” Frank nodded, approaching on my right. “Impressive. But next time, try harder.”
“Maybe next time you can help,” I snapped.
Frank cracked his knuckles in front of him. “Arthritis is acting up.”
“My ass.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing.” I rolled my eyes as the groans of the men filled the room; I had to give them credit, they were already starting to get to their feet, ready to die for their own damn pride.
“Stop this.” Frank held up his hands. “We came to discuss family matters.”
“The hell you did!” Dante yelled. “You don’t come into our home, attack my family and—”
Frank held up his hand again. “This was merely a… demonstration of what will happen if you refuse to listen. Listen, and we’ll be on our way. It’s as simple as that.”
The old men helped each other to their feet and shared thunderous looks before one limped forward and nodded. “We agree, but first.” He pointed to me. “Who the hell is that? Because we all know he isn’t your grandson.”
Frank smirked and slapped a hand on my back. “Why, I thought after the last few minutes you’d have simply put two and two together, apologies.” His voice lowered. “This is Sergio…” He paused dramatically, the freak. “Abandonato.”
Cursing followed.
And I could have sworn each of them clenched their fists.
Because if there was anything the Alferos of New York hated more than Frank and the rest of the Chicago crew… it was the Abandonatos, the family that owned Chicago, that forced them away from their homes.
The family that took over when they had lacked the ability to do so.
I should duck my head.
Offer my sincerest apologies.
Possibly shake one of their hands and say something nice.
Instead, I responded with, “And if things don’t go well… your future boss. I’d show the respect I’m due. Starting now.”
A sweet face man a proper man, as one shall see in a summer’s day —A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Valentina
IT HAD BEEN an hour since my uncles had disappeared, I was worried. I was trying not to be paranoid, but they loved parties. The last time we had a party — which was last week, mind you — it had raged until two in the morning. There had been several cases of wine, and somehow, during the party, a goat was brought in while someone offered to slaughter it for more food.
More food.
As if they didn’t already have enough.
I later found out it was owned by one of the party goers who lived in Upstate New York, a gift, he said.
My uncles politely asked for the goat to be dead first.