Page 186 of Mafia Kings: Valentino

Rocco looked like he was about to shit a bowling ball.

To be honest, as soon as I’d realized what I’d done, I almost shit one, too.

Don Vicari looked absolutely astounded –

And then he came stomping around the desk, shoving Rocco out of his way.

This time, though, his hands were balled into fists.

He bellowed like a bull and swung at me –

But I stepped out of range.

He swung at me again –

And I stepped back once more.

At which point he reached into his jacket and pulled out a revolver –

Which he aimed directly in my face.

Fuck this.

If I was going out, I wasn’t going out like a bitch.

“All I said was, ‘Never call me a faggot again,’” I snarled. “Is that the kind of pussy you want in your family? Somebody who’ll let another man call him that? Somebody who’ll just drop his pants and bend over?”

Vicari glared at me over the barrel of the gun –

And then he started roaring with laughter.

He doubled over, both his hands (including the one with the gun) braced on his knees, and proceeded to bust a gut.

I’d only ever heard him laugh in that psycho way of his, or maybe chuckle a little –

Nothing like this.

Neither had Rocco, apparently.

He looked like he’d just seen aliens walk out of a spaceship.

He kept glancing between me and his father like,Am I on drugs?! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!

I had no clue.

I thought about trying to disarm Don Vicari and take away the gun –

But then I’d have to shoot my way out of a compound surrounded by a hundred Sicilians with guns.

No thanks.

I decided to ride it out and see what happened.

When Don Vicari stood up 60 seconds later, he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

“Fuckin’ hell – when I said you had balls, kid, I didn’t even know the half of it,” he said, snorting with laughter as he put his gun back in his jacket.

“I don’t like being called a faggot,” I said casually, like it was all just a funny misunderstanding.

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