Page 85 of Resisting Royal

Which actually, was a bit of a lie. His crimes making front-page news meant he did have some control over the situation. “You can contribute to them, though.”

“Did you come here for something, Russo?” he barked. His eyes began to glaze over as the feel of his missing fingers set in.

“Did you kill Frank Moretti?” I asked again.

“Did you? Last I heard they were dragging you into the precinct on murder charges.” He looked proud of his response, so I took the knife from my pocket and stabbed it into his shoulder. He howled in pain as I laughed.

I waited until his shrieks calmed before I told him, “I was cleared. Video footage of the wife and me on a weekend trip.”

“Wife?” He looked a bit shocked like he hadn’t heard the news. “Yes, wife. Formally Bianca Moretti.”

If horror was an expression, Alfonsi suddenly wore it. “I—I didn’t know he was your family.”

“But now you do.” I pointed out while swinging my gun around loosely. “Now if you didn’t kill Frank, who did? I’ve combed the city searching, and all fingers point to you.”

“I—I.” He fumbled around for his words. “I didn’t know you were family, or else I would have never touched him, never gave him a dime.”

“So, you admit you had him killed.”

“He owed me over a hundred thousand, I was just doing what any of us would have done.” He held his hands up in front of himself defensively, his bloody palm on display.

He spoke the truth, and before Bianca, the thought wouldn’t have bugged me so much. But now, now that I knew there was more to life than murder and money, to power and reputation, I didn’t want to go back. Not fully. I wanted the family, the honorable life. When I died, I wanted to die as a man that Bianca would be proud of, not a man she would be ashamed to call her own.

“I used to be like you, Alfonsi, but I’ve discovered there is more to life than money. Sadly, you never got to truly figure that out for yourself.” I cocked the gun in my hand, knowing that after tonight, after I paid Alfonsi what he deserved for hurting my family, I wanted nothing more from this part of my life.

Was I giving up the fighting ring? The building? The money? No. But what I was giving up was the notion that money was more significant than life. I was gaining a moral code, a limit, a boundary, and for once, I could say I was proud of myself.

In front of me, Alfonsi laughed. “You think you can best me? Does your wife know how pathetic you are?”

Considering she left me weeks ago, I believed she did, but I wasn’t going to voice it. He was trying to get in my head. “I believe that despite my qualities that evoke pity, she still finds me acceptable.”

“Acceptable. What is that shit?” he roared. “Look, you and I both know Frank was a useless bag of bones. Just a breathing waste of space. I did everyone a favor. Hell, you should be thanking me.”

Thanking him? Hell, he single-handedly broke my wife’s heart, caused trust issues in her, made her leave, and ruined my damn life for weeks. Thank him? No fucking way could I thank him.

My finger pulled back with that thought, causing my gun to kick back slightly as the sound roared through the room, then there was nothing. Alfonsi’s body slumped over in the chair, blood falling to the ground, making an echoing drip against the industrial cement flooring. I stepped forward and grabbed a handful of hair, pulling his head up.

Dead.

A bullet right through the forehead and for my last kill, I confess that this one had to be the most satisfying. I let go of his hair and took a step back, examining my work before backing out of the room and back through the kitchen.

As I passed, I knocked over a vat of cooking oil. Alfonsi didn’t deserve to just die; he deserved to burn, to disintegrate all of his sins, and purge his evil from the earth. It wasn’t my right to judge, but this was my last act before becoming a better man; it was going to be big.

I grabbed a rag from the counter, holding it up over the stove as I turned the knob, igniting the piece of cloth in flames before tossing it into the oil. The oil burst into a billowing flame, spreading wide across the ground, catching tables and equipment on fire as it went.

I stood, entranced by the sight, enthralled with the way the yellows and reds danced together in perfect harmony. I appreciated the way the colors danced fluidly against the walls, climbing up as the fire reached for the highest point, the crackle as heat consumed and ate everything around me and sent a shiver of satisfaction through my body.

If I had to retire from part of this life, this was definitely the way to go.

I pulled open the metal door and stepped into the dark alley, the smoke from the fire behind me already billowing out into the clean outside air. After looking both ways, confirming that the alley was clear and no one had spotted me, I strolled down the worn pavement, leaving the life of murder and substantial crime behind.

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