Page 8 of Vows of a Mobster
I returned my attention to the men gathered at the table and surveyed the scene. All five of the family heads argued and blamed each other for the leaked information but there was only one culprit. One greedy fucker that almost cost me twenty million dollars, jeopardizing the entire shipment of goods and my family.
“Enough,” I spoke up. There was no need to raise my voice because everyone halted immediately, their eyes turning to me.
“Francesco, tell us, where were you going to sell the goods if you succeeded?” His eyes widened, fear and truth in them. There was no escaping it, it was written all over his face along with the realization that I knew he was the guilty one. Antonio, my right-hand man, had our guys sniffing around, and it was enough to spook one member of Francesco’s family. He ratted on his cousin. He saved his own life, although he’d be closely watched going forward.
My focus returned to the man that betrayed me. There wasn’t a point of lying to Francesco by telling him he might be spared by revealing that piece of information. I never spared anyone, and I wasn’t going to start now. It was the only way to rule and ensure you didn’t get fucked over or stabbed in the back.
I sat back in my chair, seemingly relaxed when I just wanted to slice his throat and be done with this bullshit. He deserved nothing better for trying to betray me. Bringing war to my doorstep.
“M-Mateo, it was bad judgement on my part,” he tried to justify himself.
Bad judgement on your part… you are fucking right!I thought to myself but said nothing.
There was no need for threats. My name and attention alone was a threat to him. He squirmed in his seat, hoping against all odds that he could get away with it. He didn’t even notice that two of my men were already behind his chair, waiting on my signal.
“Tie him,” I told them and before Francesco could even blink, he was secured. Not that he could run. There was nowhere he could go where I wouldn’t find him.
I slowly stood up, taking my blazer off, leaving me in my vest; my holster secured. Casually strolling towards him, I spoke up, “Tell me who was in on it, and where you were going to sell the goods?” I stopped mere feet from him, tied up to the chair. “I can make this painfully long or quick. Your choice.”
Bastard was lucky I was giving him a choice at all. There was no way out; the only reprieve he could possibly get was a quick death.
I watched the young man and waited, giving him a chance to think through. Two extra minutes won’t make a difference to me. He was stupid to get greedy. If he’d been smart, he could have waited ten years, or even less, then get appointed to become my heir. Francesco and Giovanni had been the top possibilities for my heirs, to take over the reins as the head of the famiglia once I stepped aside.
My brother would never enter this way of life, and I had no children. I had no intention of getting married or having children. One of these fuckers would lead but this stupid bastard had to get greedy.
“It was just me,” he decided on the quick death. I observed him for any hint of untruth but there was none.
“And?” I urged him to reveal who was willing to buy the goods behind my backs.
“The Russians were going to buy it,” he spat the words out.
Damn Russians, always aiming for a cheaper price. Thrifty idiots!
I pulled out the gun and pointed it at the young man’s head.What a fucking waste!But I knew, showing any kind of mercy would be perceived as a weakness.
Without another thought, I pulled the trigger. His body slumped over, life extinguished out of his eyes.
What a damn waste,I thought again.
“Clean this up,” I ordered my men, then turned towards the table, putting my gun back into the holster. “Anything else you want to bring to my attention?” I asked the other famiglia heads. They shook their heads, murmuring their negative responses. “Then this meeting is adjourned.”
I grabbed my blazer and left them all behind, with Antonio trailing me. We exited the villa, my car waiting at the front of the entrance. The driver scurried to open the door for me as soon as he saw me.
I slid into the seat; Antonio followed me in. The door shut behind him, and soon the driver got behind the wheel.
“Aeroporto,” I ordered him and immediately lifted the divider, blocking him from us.
I loosened my tie around my neck, grabbed myself a glass and poured scotch.
“Want some?” I offered Antonio.
“No, I’m good.”
I downed it, the bitter liquid burning my throat. Just like this damn betrayal.
“You did the right thing, Mateo,” Antonio spoke low.
I poured myself some more scotch. I would need a damn bottle to wash this fucked up situation out of my mind and conscience.
