Page 60 of Rotten Men

“What is the meaning of this?” Silvio shouts, turning as best he can to face his accomplice. “You can’t do this to me! We are in this together!”

My own grin widens at seeing the man subdued on the ground, pleading for mercy.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Silvio. Ciro doesn’t do anything that doesn’t benefit himself, and by the looks of it, you no longer serve his needs,” I tell him, committing to memory this wondrous image ofThe Butchersquirming and spitting out his pleas.

“Quite right, cousin,” Ciro affirms coolly, unbothered with the shrieking man’s cries.

“Ciro, this is not what we discussed! Think! If you kill me, no one in the Outfit will want you as boss,” Silvio bargains.

“But I’m not the one who killed you; Vincent is. Or at least that’s what I’ll tell them. Two birds; one stone. The final nail on both your coffins,” Ciro singsongs, pleased. Silvio crawls up to him, and sinks his fingers into his calves, begging for his own disgusting existence.

“Why are you doing this?” he hollers.

“Why? WHY?” He squats on his haunches in front of Silvio. “Look me in the eyes, Silvio. You andmastrolindocreated a monster, and you have the audacity to ask me why? I should kill you now for your arrogance, just as I killed him.”

“What?” I hear myself croak, gaining Ciro’s attention, as he stands and straightens his spine.

“Oh, I forgot. Apologies, cousin, but your dear uncle—my bastard of a father—did not go peacefully into that black night. I tore the light right out from under him. The last thing he saw was my face staring him down as I suffocated him with one of his pillows. A merciful death he was unworthy of, but a death just the same,” he gloats.

“I’ll fucking kill you, Ciro. Mark my words, tonight you die,” I promise, my hand balled in a fist, as my nails pierce my palm, making the oath a pledge in blood as it drips from my hand onto the plush, cream carpet below my feet. My nemesis, however, just rolls his eyes, unaffected by my proclamation of death.

“I really do hate this dramatic side of yours, Vincent. It’s tedious at best.”

“I’ll show you dramatics,” I spit out.

“All in good time,cugino,” he states, as he nudges his shoe on the man who is a blubbering, snotty mess bent on his hands and knees. This small kick is enough of a hint for Bianchi to lift himself off the ground, and he is once again held to his kneeling position by Ciro’s men. I watch as Ciro opens one side of thecapo’ssuit jacket, and retrieves from a holster a black, steel, thirteen-inch knife. He then bypasses the groveling predator and places himself in front of the woman I love.

“Selene, would you like to do the honors?” he asks, wielding the knife and placing it in her hands. “Come now. I know you want to. I see it blazing in your gorgeous, vengeful eyes. The same way he created me, he created you too,rosa. Be done with him,” he cajoles, his words spoken so softly it sounds like a lullaby, not a request to incite murder.

“All I want is my son, Ciro. That’s the only reason I’m here,” she answers him, but the small, covetous timber of her voice is clear enough for everyone in the room to know her true heart’s desire.

“No, it’s not,cara mia. You want to end this just as much as I do. You just can’t admit it. But I’ll teach you, my love. I’ll teach you everything you yearn to know. And we’ll start by ridding our lives of the devil who created us,” he whispers amorously, and the love and endearment in his voice shake me to my core.

Ciro takes her hand, and I lunge to pull her away from him. But one of the two men restraining Silvio comes to Ciro’s aid, holding my arms behind my back, incapacitating me from saving mytesoro.Gripping her like a mad man, Ciro stands behind Selene. He ushers her forward to the tormenting father, and brushing her hair to the side, places his mouth next to her ear.

“Look at him,rosa. You are about to strip away his power, his venom, and his days with one slice to the heart. Be the fearless woman I worship and end our strife,” he hushes while bending her down to the shackled devil himself.

“Please,figlia! Mercy! Have mercy!” Silvio prays between sobs and blubber.

“The devil doesn’t deserve mercy, only hell,” Ciro proclaims, as he holds Selene’s hand to grip the razor-sharp knife and helps her push it into Bianchi’s chest, while she watches the life slowly dim from his eyes.

Blood seeps from her father’s mouth as he falls to the ground, both in fear and surprise. The gurgling sound is deafening, as is the beat of joy my heart is making from such a scene. I no longer struggle with thecapobehind me as he lets me go, so I can watchThe Butcher’sdemise in peace without missing a single second. Silvio struggles to take the plunged knife away from his heart, just as manically as the life is leaving his body. The gleam in Ciro’s sadistic eyes mirrors the same satisfaction my owntesoro’semerald stare has at witnessing such brutality.

Ciro takes a knee beside Silvio’s head, leaning toward his ear, and says calmly, “I think it’s fitting you die this way. You’ve backstabbed every person that crossed your path, but your own death faced you head-on in the end. This is for my mother. This is for myrosa.This is for me.” He grabs the knife’s handle with both hands and plunges it deep into the dying devil’s heart.

Silvio finally loses the battle as his body slumps evenly on the ground in an almighty thump, announcing his righteous death. It takes me a few seconds to realize that I have grabbed Selene back to me and ushered her behind my tall frame. Transfixed on Ciro’s performance, we both watch the blissful, perverse demise.

Ciro takes the blade out of Silvio’s corpse, cleaning it against his white dress shirt, wanting to enjoyThe Butcher’sspilled blood a bit longer. He then places the bloody knife on the desk and takes a handkerchief out of his breast pocket, offering it to Selene to clean her father’s crimson liquid from her hands.

“Now tell me,rosa, is that enough of an olive branch for you?” He smiles.

Her words fail her, but not her feet. She steps away from my protection and walks over to her father’s body. She kneels down beside him and takes one long look at his face—facing one last time the man who tortured her and her mother for years and put Selene’s cruel destiny in motion. Disgust, anger, and joy play across her features as I spit onto the dead form on the ground.

“I hope you burn in hell,” she whispers, looking into his dead, soulless eyes.

“Good riddance,” I clip behind her.

“It is, isn’t it? Yet you never even tried to rid the world of him. Not even once. What kind of man are you, leaving such a delicate flower in the hands of such a vile fiend?” Ciro taunts back at me.

---