Page 5 of Mafia Baby

Life seemed like it was out to get me, until Vince saw the potential in me, I guess, and offered me a deal. He would take me in and keep me out of juvie— but only if I agreed to work for him.

It’s been seventeen years, and I have my freedom as long as I help Vince out when he needs it. My only rule is that I don’t touch kids or women, but any grown man is fair game. Especially if he’s a bad person.

When I walk up to Vince’s house, I’m greeted by a new doorman. I wonder what happened to the one I saw just three days ago, and hope he was allowed to leave alive.

He told me he had a little daughter at home. These guys usually don’t last long once they realize what goes on behind the closed doors, but Vince is careful about who he lets walk out of his house.

The doorman lets me in, and I make my way to the office, where I can hear loud voices.

“I don’t give a damn! I told you that Friday was your deadline,” Vince is yelling into the phone as I walk in. “I’m ending this call, but believe me when I tell you, this isn’t the last you will hear about this!”

Vince slams the phone down on his desk and gets up to hug me. He’s getting old now, and as ruthless as he can be, he’s always shown an odd fatherly affection to me.

Vince has three long-term girlfriends, but none of them have given him any children. They all now just live in their separate houses and entertain him whenever he demands it.

“Reaper,” Vince calls me by the name I’m known by in the industry. I doubt many of the other guys who work with us even know what my given name is – and that’s how it needs to stay.

“This fucker needs a reminder of why people don’t ignore me when I warn them about things. I need you to go and give him a nudge to deliver my money and the products he was supposed to bring. I don’t want him killed, though, but roughed up a bit is fine.” He hands me a piece of paper with a name and address. I look it over and nod at him.

“Okay. I’ll go now.”

“Perfect. How is everything else going, my boy?”

“Fine. I’ve taken a bit of a break recently when it comes to private jobs, but I’m thinking of maybe buying that club downtown for some more passive income.”

“Are they selling?”

“They’ve had some trouble lately with drugs, and they’ve attracted in some of the other crime families in the city by accident. I think they’re getting scared and looking to hand over the problems to someone else.”

Vince laughs. “I presume that you’ve offered to help them out by taking the place off their hands?”

“Not yet.” I shake my head. “I just wanted to make sure that you were fine with it first.”

“Have at it. The more businesses that are controlled by our family, the better.” There are times when I can’t understand what’s going on in the old man’s mind, but this statement makes perfect sense to me.

Another one of Vince’s men walks in and I can see things getting tense, so I excuse myself before it gets ugly. I’m wearing new pants, and I really don’t want to get blood all over them.

I leave Vince’s house and head toward the address that he provided to me. I storm up to the front door and shoot both of the guards posted there before they can even say a word.

I slam the door open and yell the name of the contact. I hear him calling for his guards from down the hallway, and I race toward the sound.

I crash through the door into an office and swarm over the desk, grabbing the neck of the fat man behind it and slamming his head onto the desk.

“Do you know why I’m here?” I ask the sobbing man bent over underneath me. He nods.

“Vincenzo sent you.” He’s gulping for air, so I push his neck down further to make sure he gets the message.

“Smart man. So, you know what he wants from you?” He’s crying loudly. I see a pool of blood under his nose, and there’s the smell of urine in the room. I realize that the rat pissed his pants, and I wrinkle my nose.

I let go of him and step away, staring into his eyes as he straightens his back. I start humming a tune, letting him listen for a minute. Everyone knows that when I’m about to make a kill, I start humming a tune. It’s always classical music, which is my favorite genre of music to listen to.

Humming helps me focus and makes it easy for me to clear my head so I can get to work. Anyone listening to me humming should feel their blood run cold.

“Next time I come here,” I tell him. “You won’t get a second chance. If you hear me humming again, your time is up.”

I leave him to cry and get back in my car. I want to go check in on my nightclub, and I don’t want to spend the rest of my night thinking about the smell of piss and fear.

***

---