Page 4 of Deception

He knows who he’s dealing with. Everyone breaks for the Diamantes.

“Get it done. Now.” That's all I have to say to snap them back to attention, crossing my arms and turning away.

Adriano usually keeps them on task for me, but Iamin charge. Even if I’ve only been the boss for a few years now, in practice. It’s official, now that Uncle Giancarlo kicked it last week. Well, now that someonekilledhim.

Which also marked the start of shit going downhill.

Truth be told, it started when Aunt Eva died. Dom’s great-aunt, married to my grandfather’s brother. The ties holding the age-old families of the Diamantes and the Viperas together.

Tensions are rising in the family and with our allies and our rivals. Several prominent members of our “community” have gone missing, disappeared. All of it reeks of an inside job.

Intimate knowledge of our business, the way we move our people.

And Dom? Gone without a trace.

It all seems to be aimed at one thing: making me look incompetent. Weakening my rule. So naturally, I suspect him.

“Who killed Don Giancarlo,Griko? Did someone hire your people to do it?” Adriano asks again.

“Fuck yo—Ahh!” A sickening pop marks another finger pulled out of the socket. “D-doesn’t matter. You’re all screwed. Nobody crosses the Lysis!”

“Oh well, in that case…” Ciro rises, rolling his eyes. He spins unbelievably fast, his hand lashing out. The poor bastard doesn’t even have a chance to scream, can’t make a sound when he sees his own eyeball bounce off the floor ahead of him.

The screams start a second later.

We picked him up trying to recruit on our turf. It’s out of place for one of the Greeks, the Lysi hitmen. The Greek order is supposed to be neutral, weapons for hire.

If they’ve taken a side, it’s a real fucking problem.

Fiero is convinced every infraction lately has been made by the same group. A new gang.

If he’s right, they’re subtle. They’ve got good leadership, too.

These new gangbangers are scraping away at our flanks, wearing us down. Like it’s their mission to see us fall.

“All we need is a name. Who took him out? Or should I sic my little brother on you; he’s not nearly as nice as I am.” Ciro flicks little splatters of blood into the guy’s face. We’ve always called Fiero the youngest, even though they’re the same age.

I’m pretty sure Ciro came out last, actually. He’s been trying to make up for it ever since.

“I-I’ll tell you … just please?—”

“Maybe he can’t see what I’m tryin’ to say, Ero. Should we feed him back his eye, maybe then he candigestthe situation?”

“Your jokes are the real torture,” Ero grumbles.

“How about this…we’ll let you go if you promise to take a message back to the shitbag who killed our uncle. Tell him we’re gonna find him and chop his fucking head off,” Ciro sings, flipping his knife.

“O-okay…” He raises his head, a sliver of defiance, hope.

“Just make sure you leave us a forwarding address when you go.” Ero is deadpan, ice-cold.

“W-why?” The man is delirious.

“So we can mail you back all your body parts.” Ero takes the guy’s middle finger off at the knuckle, the pliers clacking in a sickening squelch. “Shit. he blacked out.”

I inhale, trying to keep my cool. My hands twitch, eager to do the deed myself. My brothers should see what a real master can do to get information. But I need to let them do their jobs.

“Wake him up,” I snap.

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