Page 70 of Vicious Impulses (The Capo and Ballerina)

Stepping the rest of the way into his office, I slam the door shut in their faces.

Pa’s crumpled onto the floor. His drink’s spilled around him. The chunks of ice begin melting into the carpet. He clutches his swelling jaw and curses me out.

“You fucking stronzo. You put your hands on me again, and it’s death by firing squad.”

“As opposed to what? Death by medical malpractice? You think I’m not onto what the fuck kind of games you’re playing? You’re desperate enough to try and off me? Your own son?”

He pushes himself off the floor and back onto his wobbly legs. “It sounds so uncivilized when you say it like that.”

“What’s your end game with this, Pa? You eliminate me and then what?”

“You’re causing nothing but trouble for me. For relations with the Vorones. I chose you above the others and what did you do? You spat in my face!”

“This is about the fact that I wouldn’t be your mouthpiece?”

He hobbles over to the minibar to make himself a fresh drink. More shoe polish has slid down the side of his face, leaving a faded black stain on his skin that he seems unaware of. “You know what this is about. This is about the ballerina. You need to give the girl up.”

My fists are tight enough that my nails bite into the palms of my hands. “Tell me what you did with the doctors. You are the one who introduced me to Gerber—don’t fucking tell me you’ve been sabotaging me!”

Pa waves a hand, bringing his drink to his lips. “Don’t be so dramatic, Caelian. This was a one-time deal. You refused the treatment in Zurich. Everybody has a price.”

“I’m guessing the sharpshooter that came after us was you too? I should’ve known. The attempt was so sloppy.”

“I should’ve gone with the more expensive assassin. He guaranteed results.”

“What could be so important that you’d be willing to go through so much trouble for a ballerina?” I growl. My patience dangles by a thin string that’ll snap in half any second.

“She is property of Nero’s. What have you been missing? We piss him off, then everybody’s screwed. He’s gonna kill us all if we don’t obey. Then he’ll take her anyway.” His thick, lumpy throat works overtime as he slops down more liquor. “Beats me what’s so special about her. I’ve never seen the importance of those little dancers some like so much—need more ass in a woman I’m gonna fuck.”

I lose it. I launch myself at him in a violent tidal wave of rumbling grunts and flying fists. He winds up on the floor again with a mouthful of blood.

I’m being pried off him by a third party. Somebody almost as big and strong as I am.

“Caelian, you drunk or something?” Carmelo asks, holding onto me tight. The other two have arrived with him, Coreno and Cristian standing off to the side.

I could throw Carmelo off me, though I refrain for the moment. Seeing Pa’s blood decorating my knuckles is enough to sate my violent urges.

“What’s the matter with you?” Carmelo asks. “Both of you? Father and son coming to blows? Is that how we do?”

“That’s how our family does. Where have you been, cousin?” Coreno asks Carmelo. “Stop acting like you’re above the rest of us.”

“Caelian’s mad ’cuz I might’ve tried to give him a procedure. He thinks to kill him. I was trying to help him along like the loving and devoted father I am.”

I wrench myself from Carmelo’s grip and take a warning step forward. “And I’ve repaid you in kind. Keep it up and you’ll be spitting up more blood.”

“If this is how we’re going to fight the Vorones, we’ve got a problem,” Carmelo sighs. He’s hardly any better for the criticism he gives—his hair gelled, his muscles squeezed into a crew neck shirt that’s too tight, his repeated checks of his phones to message whatever bimbo he’s fucking—he’s just as bad.

“This is why I should’ve been chosen,” Coreno says. “I would’ve already handled it.”

Cristian scowls at him, his chubby-cheeked face extra petulant. “Hissonshould handle it. That son being me.”

“Alright, alright,” Pa says, gripping the back of the sofa in his office to pull himself to his feet. “I might’ve reacted impulsively, Caelian. But don’t act so surprised. I’ve tried to kill my brother, your uncle, at least a dozen times.”

Carmelo nods. “It’s true. I remember the cut brakes in my pop’s car when I was twelve.”

Pa coughs out a bloody laugh. “That was one of my favorites.”

“You are both fucking insane pieces of shit,” I spit. “Leave me out of your games.”

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