Page 1 of Vicious Vows

ONE

Marchello

Scars,bullet holes, tattoos…they’re just reminders of who we are, where we’ve been, and where we’re headed.

If only I had stopped to look, things might not have gone to shit.

I ran my razor under the stream of water flowing into the bathroom sink before gliding the blade along my lathered jawline. Gazing into the mirror, I took in my most prominent tattoo. The work in progress I was most proud of.

When I had the tattoo artist sketch the smoking gun and apply the design to my chest, I knew I would always add to the artwork. The check marks under the gun would be on-going because that’s who I was.

Each mark represented a bullet. One that had come from my gun and ended up snuffing the life from someone else. The first was supposed to be the hardest, but it wasn’t that bad. After that, it all became second nature.

Why?

Because that was where I was headed.

The September sunheated the stifling warehouse, making it difficult to breathe. The stench of the Hudson River seeped into the old building just off the port. Sweat trickled down my back and soaked through my Armani suit jacket.

The guards held up a badly beaten man by his arms so he had to look at me through his swollen and bruised eyes. He had no fight left in him. My father had him brought here so he could answer for his crimes.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

I aimed my gun at his chest. My hand was steady. Too steady. My heartbeat was barely above resting as I stared at the piece of shit who had just admitted to blowing up the Accetti family’s whole world—the reason we were a family.

“This is the man responsible for killing your mother, Marchello,” my father said. “He’s the reason she’s no longer with us.”

Rage brewed in my chest as I positioned my finger on the trigger.

“Patience.” My father touched my shoulder. “Let him anticipate it. Let him remember the look in your eyes for all of his eternity.”

“When he’s burning in hell for taking her from us?” I asked. “For taking her unborn child?”

“My unborn child.” My father spit in the man’s face, but he was too weak even to flinch. “Your life should be ending by my hand, but instead, I’m going to allow my son the honor. Do you know why?”

The man tried to shake his head, but his neck was too injured for that. Bright red blood dripped from his nose and mouth as he looked me in the eye.

“Because his first kill should be memorable. One that he will never forget.”

The interrogation had been over for thirty minutes. The man hadn’t given us much, but he did admit to being the one who placed the explosive device in the car. The device that ended my mother’s life.

“Please,” my mother’s murderer managed to say. “I’ll do anything you want.”

“I want the name of the man who hired you,” my father said. “But you already said you can’t give me that. Is that still true?”

He nodded.

“Well, then I’m afraid you’re out of time.” My father’s voice was controlled and low. “You’re of no use to us, are you?”

“I’ll help you find out who hired me.” The man coughed, and blood spattered onto my white shirt.

“How are you supposed to do that when you have no idea who contracted you?” my father asked. “Isn’t that what you said?”

The desperate man nodded again.

“As I said…” My father walked around me and stood next to the man. “You’re of no use to us.”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

---