Page 46 of Mafia Virgin (The Kings of Italy)

Franco and Dino, two of my men, were leaning against the wall, waiting. They straightened when they saw me. I went over and shook their hands. I made it a habit to know the men who worked for me, to know their families. I treated them with civility, with gratitude, something my father never did. “This is him?”

“Sì, Don Buscetta,” Franco answered. “He’s the manager.”

“Va bene. You’ve done well.” I slapped Franco’s shoulder. “You can both go now. Zani and I will handle it from here.”

“Of course,” Dino said. “Want us to stay nearby for clean up?”

“That would be helpful,” Zani said, ushering the two men out the door. “I’ll ring when we’re ready.”

I paid them no attention. I was already picking up the hammer.

“Wake him up,” I told Zani when we were alone. “Let’s get this started.”

As I waited for Zani, I twirled the hammer in my fingers. How many times had I done this over the years? Countless. Usually with Zani, but sometimes alone.

I learned cruelty at an early age. It was all I’d ever known, thanks to my father and brother. This was my place—receiving and inflicting pain. A soldier to follow orders and fall in line.

And I never failed.

The man on the hook was Mirabella’s director, Silvio Dimarco. My second cousin. He was the only one who knew Viviana’s true last name. I’d trusted him to keep our secret safe. I put Viv’s care in his hands. A stupid decision on my part. Even family turned against each other under the right circumstances. Didn’t I know that better than almost anyone?

Silvio disappeared on the day of my impromptu wedding, but my men tracked him down and found him hiding in a small apartment in Partanna. He wouldn’t leave here alive.

Zani held the smelling salts under the man’s nose and Silvio jerked against the bonds, his head arching away from the strong smell. His eyes fluttered, and I saw awareness creep in with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

“Ciao,cugino,” I said casually. “It’s good to see you again.”

He licked his lips, nervously looking at me and Zani. “What is this about? Your men took me from my holiday, brought me here and strung me up like meat. What the fuck!”

Holiday? Like hiding out in a shit hole in Partanna was a holiday. “You know what this is about, Silvio.”

“My shoulders are killing me, Giacomo. Let me down.”

“Who did you tell?”

“What are you talking about?”

I drew closer, thumping the hammer against my palm.Tick, tick, tick. . . . “I want to hear who you told. I want to hear how much he paid you to betray me and put my sister’s life at risk.”

He swallowed hard, the muscles in his throat working. “I’ve kept your sister safe. I would never betray you.”

Lies. “Cut his clothes off.”

Zani didn’t hesitate. Taking a switchblade, he removed Silvio’s clothes efficiently. When my cousin was nude, I said, “Now, explain to me how Don Virga learned of her existence after all these years. After all the effort I’ve gone to just to keep her hidden. How did that happen, Silvio?”

“I don’t know what you’re—”

I drew my arm back and swung. The flat head of the hammer smacked into his ribs. Silvio howled, the sound echoing off the cement walls.

“Hold him still,” I told Zani. Then I hit Silvio again on the opposite side. The noise he made wasn’t as loud this time, but it was hard to scream with two broken ribs.

“I want to hear it from your own mouth,” I said. “I want to hear what he offered you, what was worth betraying your own family.”

“I . . . didn’t,” he wheezed through labored breaths.

I shattered his knee cap next. He yelled as best he could, panting as he struggled against the pain. I walked around to his other side. “Should I break the other one, or are you ready to tell me?”

In the end Silvio held out much longer than I anticipated.

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