Page 105 of The Slayer
Chuito thought it was because he was pretty fucking efficient at sending one very clear message anyone would be able to read.
Don’t fuck with Nova Moretti.
Chapter Thirty
Garnet County
November 2012
Crime was a virus.
It was contagious, and no one was safe from it.
No one.
Once it infiltrated, it started to spread outward, from one hand to the next, insidiously sweet and easy. The rules of the underworld were much more primitive than civilized society. Law enforcement was just another obstacle. One of many enemies trying to break into the cave. Defying them wasn’t an issue when it was survival of the fittest. Protect home first, and the organization second.
The underworld understood that in a way the rest of society didn’t.
Most organizations had rules revolving around that one rule.
Do not fuck with women and children.
Ever.
A made man in the Italian mafia could get whacked for screwing with another member’s wife. If he touched one of his brother’s wives, the gloves were off. The wronged man could kill him, and chances were the other members weren’t going to complain too much.
A Latino gangbanger could get smoked for the exact same thing. Mess with another man’s chica, and it was a sure bet it wasn’t going to end well.
The Russians were different, but Chuito was inclined to agree with Tino about them. Not having families. That shit was just weird.
What the fuck were they here for anyway? If not to protect their caves?
Alaine would probably have a fucking fit if she knew Chuito thought like that. His mother would too. So would Jules.
But Jules wasn’t complaining about Nova taking out his father to save Romeo’s life.
Chuito’s mother hadn’t said a fucking word about Marcos and Chuito avenging Juan and Tiá Camila’s deaths either. She knew. She just kept her opinions to herself and let them go on being primitive cavemen.
Chuito wouldn’t consider himself sexist. He loved women. He respected them. More often than not, they were smarter, kinder, and undoubtedly the better half of the human species. One gave birth to him and another held his heart, which was why he felt like they deserved to be protected by the big, mean cavemen God stuck them on this planet with.
And that idea wasn’t unique to Chuito.
Most alpha males could be reduced to that pretty easily, especially if they’d already caught the crime virus without knowing it. There were different strains, some more infectious than others, and Chuito had been in bed with the Italians for a while. He knew their particular strain was themostcontagious.
There were a hundred mafia movies that romanticized them.
It wasn’t favoritism. The Cosa Nostra just made it seem so compelling.
Organized crime wastheir thing, and the way they did it was well aged and classy like fine wine.
There weren’t too many movies about Latino gangbangers unless they were the villains. That was because crime with the Italians wasn’t dirty the way Chuito knew it.
It was clean, in designer suits after big dinners that involved a lot of laughter and sibling affection. It was, at its core, designed to revolve around the basic principles humans evolved from.
Family above everything.
Protect the home front at all costs.
