Page 59 of Rotten Men

I’m about to plunge my fist in Silvio’s face when Selene halts my assault with her next statement.

“It was you. You’re the one who framed James all along. To make sure I came back so that you could set Vincent up. That’s why you waited to come see me. That’s it, isn’t it?”

“You always were the clever one,” Ciro replies, true pride in his gaze.

“You’re a monster,” she bellows, taking two steps away from him, and pulling me with her.

“Now,rosa, you know me better than that. We’re kindred spirits, you and I. I can assure you that, when I came up with this plan, you were always at the center of it; since the day I laid eyes on you at St. Mary’s, you always have been. I wouldn’t lay a finger on you,rosa. I swear it,” he says, sounding hurt by Selene’s insistence in putting distance between them.

I watch Silvio snap his head at lightning speed to face Ciro.

“What? You promised me, Ciro! You promised I’d get my revenge the day you got yours!” he shouts, his face reddening with rage.

“And you will. Just asIwill.”

“But—” Silvio begins to complain, but Ciro just rolls his eyes in annoyance.

“Shh, shh, Silvio,” Ciro whispers as if addressing an errant child, placing a finger on his lips, bridging the gap between him andThe Butcher. “Silvio, for a man like yourself, who has been one of the heads of the Outfit for so long, I thought you would be savvier in reading between the lines. Once I kill Vincent, you will have your revenge. But mine, however, was never against Vincent—it was against my father, andyou.”

“I don’t follow,” Silvio stutters nervously.

“Ah, poorButcher. Always so apt in delivering his cruelty to the defenseless, too arrogant to conceive that one of them might rise up to strike back even harder,” Ciro cajoles, placing his hands comfortably over Silvio’s shuddering shoulders.

“Enough with the foreplay, Ciro! Just end Vincent and be done with it! Selene ismydaughter, and I will see to it that she is punished accordingly for her traitorous ways,” Silvio insists, but the quiver in his voice gives light to his insecurity.

“Traitorous? What an amusing word, coming from you,” I growl, taking pleasure from watchingThe Butcher’sunnerved sweat fall into his beady eyes.

“In this instance, I have to agree with my cousin. You are a two-faced, backstabbing vermin who shouldn’t be allowed to throw rocks when you, yourself, live under a glass roof decorated with your own deceits,” Ciro snarls huskily in Silvio’s face.

“I have never betrayed you, Ciro! Never!” Silvio pleads, placing his trembling hands over Ciro’s, but the mere touch ofThe Butcher’sskin repulses him, and he slaps them away. Ciro walks behind Silvio’s desk, taking his seat at the throne, no longer willing to endure Silvio’s proximity.

“Not yet. But you’d figure out a way if the opportunity presented itself. It takes a snake to know one in his midst. Isn’t that right,cugino?”

“You’re no family of mine, Ciro. You killed the only family I had,” I state through gritted teeth, but Ciro just shrugs off the accusation.

“So did Silvio here, but you do make a curious point. Tell me, cousin, are both of us fit to receive the same level of wrath from you? I wonder. What hurt more? Silvio killing your parents or me killing Pietro?” he questions, hate and gratification tattooed on his distorted smile.

“You fucking, bastard! I’ll kill you for even uttering his name,” I yell, losing my temper at the mention of Pietro’s name. Selene pushes me back, like a wall preventing me from launching myself over the desk and strangling Ciro with my bare hands right where he sits.

“Hmm. That’s what I thought,” he provokes, pleased that he has finally got under my skin.

“Enough!” Selene wails, dampening my sour rage with her halting shout. She turns to face Ciro’s satisfied, slanted grin while protecting me with her back, and grabbing my hand for confidence. “I want to see my son, Ciro. I need to see if he’s alright. Where’s Jude? Where is my son?”

“He’s in a little time out. You remember what that is, don’t you?”The Butcherstates with a revived, sinister smile plastered on his face.

“Freezer,” she whispers to me over her shoulder, her face stricken of color while squeezing my hand to the point of pain.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Silvio. However, it does make my olive branch that much sweeter,” Ciro hums, shaking his head, disappointed.

“An olive branch? What do you think you could ever offer that would be appealing?” I spit out.

Ciro stands from his seat and starts leisurely walking toward the liquor cabinet next to Selene’s villainous father.

“That’s easy,cugino. I’m going to give Selene what you never could.”

“And what’s that?” I ask him dubiously.

“Freedom,” he replies nonchalantly, tilting his head to the two guards standing at the door, who immediately walk toward Silvio and force him on his knees with a brutish push to his shoulders.

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