Page 153 of King of Obsession

My crew materialized like shadows at my back, their sheer appearance and might an unspoken threat.

The Don’s brows arched in surprise.

For an uptight moment, no one breathed.

The world narrowed to this - two factions on the brink of war, waiting for the other to flinch first.

The tension ratcheted up, the atmosphere crackling with it. My people, too, tautened, ready to unleash hell at my command.

I broke the impasse with a slow, deliberate movement, raising two fingers to my lips. ‘Umiltà, Don Caputo,’ I rasped, my voice soft, almost gentle. ‘Humility, in the face of the Omertà.’

Lorenzo appeared at my side, mirroring the gesture. ‘Umiltà per l’omertà,’ he murmured. ‘Humility for the code of silence.’

The color drained from Caputo’s face as understanding dawned.

He stared at us, mouth agape, for a few more moments before he spoke. ‘We caught wind of rumors that the Calibrese and the Omertà Alliance were in Australia,’ he whispered, shock and something like fear in his intonation. ‘But we never dreamed -’

‘We are,’ I said, my growl hard-edged. ‘Our presence here can be soft or hard, depending on your subsequent actions.My advice is to take your men and fuck off this area, for it’s under our protection. Leave and never return, not even to the farm next door or even the entire freakin’ region. Do this, and we’ll be ghosts, nothing more than specters haunting your dreams. Choose the alternative and start counting your days and those of your children on Dio’s green earth.’

Caputo’s eyes iced over. For a split second, I wondered if he’d be foolish enough to challenge us.

The silence stretched between us, taut and razor-thin.

The Don’s eyes darted from Lorenzo to me, calculation warring with self-preservation in his gaze. The gears turned in his head as he weighed his options.

The mafia leader’s jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. For a long moment, he stared at me, his expression unreadable. With a sharp jerk of his head, he raised his hand in surrender.

‘Va bene,’ he ground out, the words like shards of glass in his throat. ‘For I’d be a scemo to cross the Sons of Honor.’

He lifted a hand, asking for permission to step forward.

Lorenzo granted it with a raise of his chin.

Don Caputo moved toward him and, in old-fashioned tradition, bowed one knee before him, head down.

It was his sign of respect, capitulation, and a request for forgiveness.

He reached for Lorenzo’s hand, fumbling a kiss on his Omertà signet ring.

My brother glanced at me, narrowing his eyes.

He loathed all the godfather shit, but he had to play a role to maintain peace and order.

Lorenzo placed his hand on the older man’s shoulder.

‘Rise, friend, all is well.’

The Don pushed up with some effort. He gave Renzo and me a sharp, relieved glance, nodded, and turned on his heel. Moving fast, his hand whirled in a tight circle to call back his men.

They, too, had a new measure of restraint and respect in their gaze as they eyed us in cautious retreat.

They obeyed with alacrity, melting back into their vehicles as the helicopter fired up.

I glared, unmoving, as the Don and his guards disappeared into the sleek machine. It lifted into the sky, hovering for a moment as if the man inside was still trying to comprehend what the fuck had just happened.

My crew emerged from the shadows, clustering close, our hands crossed over our chests.

Behind us, silhouetting our badass figures, were the flames burning off in the still-smoking barn.

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