Page 8 of Made to Sin

“Katarina, do you know all about the other families?”

As the words left my mouth, the other bosses perked up with interest. Women weren’t supposed to be mixed in with business, and while it was a dumb tradition, the mob never claimed to be progressive. Each boss wanted to see just how much Marco told her and estimate if she was a liability.

Her eyes glowered with pure dislike at the cheap shot, but she kept her poised stature as if I didn’t even affect her.

It was fucking hot.

“All is a strong word, Luciano. My husband knows how to run his business, I just prefer to keep the amicable relations while he does it.”

My lips tipped up at her whole load of saying nothing just to stick it to me. “And does he hire you as his consigliere too?”

Her mouth opened again, but before she could utter anything, Marco interrupted. “Let me apologize for my wife’s disrespect, Luciano. I haven’ttamedher enough.”

He didn’t outright say it, but from the discreet glare I caught him sending her, I could tell he would tame her by using physical means. Katarina didn’t bat an eye in his direction, suggesting I was wrong— unlikely— or she was used to it. For Marco’s sake, I hoped the former was true.

Despite being apathetic to him, I didn’t necessarily hate my father for much. It wasn’t the way he made me into a cold fucker. It wasn’t the way he never showed Sylvio and me fatherly love. It wasn’t the way he put the Beneveti name before us.

No, I understood the sacrifices he made as a don.

I hated him for the way he would treat Mamma. His idea of ensuring a docile wife was to beat the attitude out of her. It never worked, but those types of men never learn.

“Why apologize for her thoughts, Marco? I appreciate someone who knows what they want and isn’t afraid to speak up about it. It makes a usefulalliance.”

The boss didn’t respond to the indirect insult, but he looked away from her and glared at me instead. Good enough for now.

The tension around the table was palpable, but as the live orchestra strummed onto the next song, so did the chatters. Each boss had something else they wanted to get off their agenda.

It would be a miracle if I made it through the night without losing my mind.

—

I cracked my knuckles as I leaned back against the metal workbench filled with various sharps and blunts.

The room I was in was dark and empty. A single, blue light and an iron chair that was bolted to the ground stood in the middle. It was the kind of room that caused the hairs on the back of an unsuspecting visitor to rise as goosebumps prickled his skin.

My unsuspecting visitor of the night was a man, sorry, an idiot, by the name of Andrea. People were too quick to send rats back to the sewer, so sometimes, they landed in the Underworld by mistake.

“Did you think I was done?” I taunted, picking up a short pocket knife and watching it gleam in contrast to the illuminating white and teal.

After the gala, I drove to the prison warehouse to finish Andrea off. He had some fight left earlier and refused to talk, but I’d left him with a gunshot wound to each of his kneecaps long enough for any will to die out.

The coward whimpered like a kicked puppy as I walked closer. My footsteps tapped loudly against each wall beforebouncing back in smaller echoes.

“Please, Luciano. I—” The rest of his sentence was cut short by a scream when I shoved the tip of the knife into his right knee.

I twisted the blade. “Who let you say my name?”

“I’m sorry, please.”

“So you gonna tell me what the fuck happened to my grams of coke, or you gonna keep talking your shit?”

His whimpers turned into shallowed breaths and cries. I twisted the knife deeper until the thin flesh made asquelchsound as the fat layer was cut through.

“Fine, fine. Please, stop. I’ll tell you. Please,” he yelled, hiccuping every so often.

“If you talk fast enough, I’ll shoot you. If not, I’ll carve out your bones with this blade.”

With the threat hanging above his head and sweat dripping down the lengths of his bruised torso, he spewed like a fountain. “It was Carlo. He said if I sank some crates into the ocean, he would set me from theCosa Nostra. Please, Luciano, I was just trying to get my family away from this life.”

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