Page 162 of Vicious Addictions

Marcello’s words come out sharp and steadfast, his expression holding onto that same empty stare as if he were blind to everything around him, solely focused on his oath.

Now looking like a proud father, Gio takes the card from his pocket and holds it high for everyone to see. He then turns once again to Marcello and utters the same words he said to me not five years ago.

“This is Saint Jude, the Patron Saint of Lost Souls. As a member of this family, in this life and beyond, your soul isoursand therefore never lost.”

He then takes a lighter out of his pants pocket and flicks it, feeding the flame to burn the card’s edge, but not before passing it to the nearest capo as Marcello’s cue to pledge the omertà.

“As burns this saint, so will burn my soul. I enter alive, and I will only get out when dead. I will hold the rules of the Outfit above allman made.In my heart, first comes my syndicate brothers, followed by my God, my family, and then all else. I will care for my brothers, as I will care for their families should any depart nobly. I will show no mercy to traitors. I will lay no hand on a brother’s wife, sister, or woman. I will prefer death to snitching on any of my new-forged kin. And let it be said—after my death—that I, Marcello Adriano Romano, lived and died a loyal and honorablemade mantill the end.”

With so many men here, Marcello doesn’t wait for someone to hand him the flaming Patron Saint, stepping forward to snatch the card out of none other than Matteo Donato’s hand.

With the card more than halfway up in flames, Marcello fists his sliced hand with all his might, blood pouring onto the card until all its flames have been extinguished with it.

Everyone begins to cheer and clap, all eager to congratulate the new addition to thefamiglia,when my father walks down the two steps off the cabin’s porch until he’s standing in front of the Donato clan, with Marcello at his flank.

“You are now an intricate part of this great family, Marcello, and as such, you have a duty to defend it against any foe that is foolish enough to come for us. Do you understand?” my father asks, his eyes never leaving Don Carlo’s.

“Yes, boss,” my brother answers with the cruelest of conditions.

“Good. That’s very good,” my father retorts, pleased. “For now is when the real highlight of this day begins. Dominic! Jude! Bring Marcello…Carlo Donato… Junior!”

Chapter 28

Jude

I don’t think—I just move. All it takes is my father calling my name.

Confusion, mayhem, and bewilderment are my allies as Dom and I rip Carlo Donato Jr. out of formation, forcing him to his knees in the center of the circle before Marcello. Themade menaround us murmur, whispering among themselves, questioning my father’s intent.

My eyes sweep the circle, searching for Mina, making sure she isn’t lost or hurt in the chaos. But before I can even lock eyes with her, Mina’s already moved into action alongside her cousins.

Remus has Matteo Donato restrained, his arms pinned behind his back. At the same time, Rolo does the same to the other furious brother, Niccolò. Meanwhile, Mina stands behind us in the circle, one steady hand on my sister’s shoulder, keeping her still and ensuring her safety.

I watch as other loyal men grab hold of an aging Don Carlo senior, keeping him from stepping one foot inside the sacred circle.

“Vizenco!” Don Carlo shouts at my father, nostrils flaring, eyes wide in panic. “What is the meaning of this… this madness?!”

While everyone else looks like they’re losing their goddamn minds, my father is the epitome of calmness. He waits for complete silence to fall on these woods before uttering a word. Once he has everyone’s captive attention, he begins to conduct his practiced spiel.

“Trust is a fragile thing in our line of work. Once given, even the smallest infraction can shatter it,” my father says with disdain. “I doubt there’s a single man here who, knowing the history between our two families, would ever believe I could truly trust you or yours.” He pauses, letting the weight of his words settle before continuing. “Still, while blind trust was never an option, there was enough good faith that allowed us to coexist for the last twenty years. I put the name Donato out of my mind and let you conduct your business where my eyes couldn’t see. And yet, you mistook my willingness to tolerate your existence for weakness.” His gaze hardens. “Tell me, Don Carlo, what could I have possibly done to make you foolish enough to cross me twice in a lifetime?”

“Cazzo! I have no idea what you’re going on about!” Don Carlo spits, struggling against the men holding him back, desperate to reach his son.

My father holds his gaze for only a second before turning away, pacing slowly, ensuring every person in attendance is listening as he continues, “Yes. I’m well aware of your ignorance. Though, I admit, it took me a moment to realize you had no part in what was being plotted behind my back.” My father then turns his attention to his audience, his gaze bouncing off the hundred or so people here before continuing, “Most of you know that for the past year, the Bratva has managed to infiltrate Chicago again to conduct their business. They started with minor crimes like home invasions and burglaries, some panhandling and pickpocketing here and there, petty and small stuff. It was a nuisance at best, and not worth my time sending reinforcements to put them in their place. However, I kept a vigilant eye on the Russian syndicate just in case they got too big for their britches. But all that changed six months ago when onestronzothought that trafficking innocent women using my ports and docks was a smart move to make.” My father tsks like they should have known better.

“Madonna!” Don Carlo belts out. “This is the first time I’ve heard of such a thing. If you know the Bratva are behind your problems, then why us? We are not your enemy here. Deal with them! Go after them! And hand me back my son!”

“Ah, but that is where you are wrong! You are my enemy, Don Carlo. In every way imaginable, even if you are unaware of your crimes.”

“Porca puttana!” Don Carlo spits out. “I’m dealing with a madman.”

“No, Don Carlo! You’re dealing with your judge, jury, and executioner! Tread carefully with your next words,” my father reminds theCosa Nostra’sboss, his calm and collected demeanor beginning to wear thin. My father rolls his shoulders back and tilts his head from side to side, summoning whatever calm is left in him to rise. Once his stoic mask is back in place, he continues with his monologue.

“It didn’t take us long to discover that Dimitri Mikhailov, the nominated underboss to oversee Bratva operations in Chicago, was behind the trafficking. However, thanks to Lady Crane and the London Firm’s assistance, we discovered that Dimitri had gone rogue and conducted the illicit trafficking behind hisPakhan’sback. It seemed that someone was able to whisper words of grandeur in Dimitri’s ear, persuading him to believe that he could overthrow his boss if only he had the means and the packing to do it. Sex trafficking gave him those means. And by offering a percentage to his newfound mentor, he gave him his backing. We would have never been able to lift the veil of who was actually pulling the strings of the Bratvasoldatiwithout Lady Crane’s help. And for that, myfamigliais in her debt.”

My father makes it a point to stop his rant long enough to look over at Mina and give her a respectful nod. She stands tall as every man here follows my father’s lead and pays their own form of respect. In one move, my father just solidified how one woman can be more of an asset to this organization than ten men combined. A fact not overlooked by my sister, considering the tiny cocky grin that threatens to pull at the corner of her lips. But no one has time to see it, too enraptured on what theCapo dei Capimight say next.

“Once it was made clear to us that someone else was the brains of the operation and that they used Dimitri as a ploy to take the rancid stench of betrayal off themselves, we interrogated the Bratva villain into ratting out his partner. So you can imagine my surprise, Don Carlo, when Dimitri’s last words to us on this earth were a garbled version of your family’s name.”

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