Page 71 of Vicious Redemption

And after, I’m taking Don Guerra’s head.

“On it,” Johnny states.

I hang up, releasing a heavy breath as I stare at the furniture decorating my office.

I’m not going to make Tia watch her father die. As furious as I am with her, I don’t want to break her. But her insistence on her father’s innocence, her willingness to lie to me so she can stay in contact with her family—it tells me one key thing. Her loyalty will never truly belong to me. Which means I can never fully trust her.

I don’t know how I’m supposed to move forward from here.

Because her father is going to die today.

And as deeply as I’ve fallen in love with her, I don’t see our relationship recovering from this final blow. Strength and authority through iron control. That’s what my father taught me, and it’s time I learned my lesson.

Tia’s soft-spoken words about mercy and ruling through respect and love were all a fairy tale.

It’s time for me to take my throne.

The only sure way to show the powerful families of Piovosa that I am the undisputed ruler is to kill the don who dares to question my claim.

Luigi has the house in order within the hour, and my men gather solemnly in the ballroom as the time draws close. Their energy is charged, their fierce loyalty on display as they wait for my ascension to the head of the family.

Then, the dons begin to arrive. Each bears a grave, tight-lipped expression that tells me they’re resigned to their fates, though they don’t relish the thought of pledging an oath to me in front of my entire family.

“Welcome,” I say as the last of my men arrive, flanking Don Guerra.

From their posture, I can gather that he wasn’t easy to bring in. All the more reason to make an example of him.

“In the wake of my father’s tragic and untimely death, I find a new level of responsibility thrust upon my shoulders. And I assure you, I will take up my new place in this family with the proper sense of responsibility and honor. So today, I ask that you each pledge your loyalty to me. An oath that you will live and die by the gun and knife to protect the Moretti name.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd, a hushed excitement. It’s been well over a decade since the last don was named, and the rite is a sacred one that binds each member’s life to the family they serve.

Each of my men will do it. Of that, I’m sure.

But Piovosa has never seen one family rule over the other nine with a blood oath to bind them to their word. Until now, I have permitted them to swear loyalty and maintain their pride. That ends today. I want every man in Piovosa to hear the message loud and clear.

Live by my rules. Or die.

And from the dons faces as they come to stand along the pathway where men will line up to pledge their loyalty, I can tell they are less than excited. My lips lift into a smirk at the color on Don Guerra’s face. He looks about ready to have an aneurysm.

Not yet, Don Guerra. I won’t let you take the satisfaction from me. I intend to kill you myself.

Johnny steps forward. As my underboss, he has the honor of swearing loyalty to me first. “Don Moretti,” he says formally, coming to one knee before me and bowing his head. “I swear to live and die by this gun and knife.” Pulling each from their holster and pocket, he sets the gun on the ground before me and opens the knife. “I swear to protect the Moretti name and to serve you with honor until the day I die.”

Slicing the tip of his trigger finger with his knife, Johnny then sets his blade aside to accept a small square of holy paper from Luigi. Pressing his bloody fingertip to the pristine white, he infuses the paper. Luigi sets a corner of the paper alight with his Zippo, and Johnny cups the burning slip in his palms.

“May I burn in hell if I betray any members of the Moretti family,” Johnny finishes his oath as the holy paper crumbles to ash in his hands. Without a single flinch in pain, he retrieves his knife and gun, holstering them before rising before me.

I grasp his shoulders, giving him a nod of recognition.

And when he steps to my right, taking up his position beside me, Rasco steps forward to perform the same rite.

My men perform their oaths admirably. Each step before me to confirm their life-long service and loyalty. As the procession continues, I can see the color slowly draining from the dons’ faces.

They’re facing a far larger act of subservience. One they’ve never had to perform before. But Don Guerra is the one I can’t take my eyes off of. I can see him squirming in his skin.

The humility of bowing before me appears to be more than he can swallow.

Perhaps he should have thought of that before he tried challenging me.

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