That was it.
Just an affirmative that he did.
Shit, I hated them so much that I was willing to do anything to get away. Anything.
It had been my life, in my blood since I was a kid.
And now?
I just really wanted to walk into a room without looking for would-be assassins; I would kill to enjoy a hamburger in a public place without packing a weapon.
The room was dark. Tex Campisi, the relative godfather of the bunch, or the Capo dei Capi, was sitting behind a massive desk, hands behind his head, shit-eating grin directed right at me. Perfect. “You’ve killed a lot of people.”
“Yup.” I crossed my arms. Was that it? I’ve killed a lot of people? Did the man need a calculator?
“Deadly,” Andrei said to my right. The guy who had escorted me in, who was now the head of the Sinacore Family, my Family.
“Useful.” Phoenix Nicolasi tapped a black folder against his denim-clad thigh and shared a look with Nixon Abandonato and Dante, the new Alfero leader. Shit, all these guys did was just take things over and rule the world, leaving every pure-blooded Italian behind, not that they weren’t, but it still felt somehow wrong.
It was as if they thought the world owed them everything, and they deserved to take it from everyone who had to fight harder for it. At least, that was how I saw it.
“I’m not convinced.” Chase, the one I wanted to murder the most, stepped forward. “He looks too angry to leave with a clean slate. I say…” He pulled out a knife and held it to my throat. “You let me do a tiny little slit right here and hold him upside down by those expensive as hell Armani shoes and see how long it takes for him to beg for death.”
“Graphic.” Sergio Abandonato joined Chase. “As usual. Then again, last time we did that, it took way too long, so boring. I hate being bored.”
“It’s the worst,” I agreed. “I pray my death is a little bit more exciting than hanging upside down and counting the blood drops that hit the cement floor. Then again, if you hung me over sharks, that might be interesting.”
“I have piranhas,” Andrei pointed out.
I nearly choked at how serious he looked.
Dante took a step away and shuddered. “Creepiest little things I’ve ever seen; ate my sock once.”
“Just. Gone.” Nixon, the Abandonato boss, pointed out.
Who the hell were these people? To joke during this time? I’d heard the Five Families of this generation was different, that the bosses were even more different, that these leaders were ruthless, cruel, and hard, but that they weren’t like their fathers.
Did they beat their children?
Did they even have children?
I had so many questions. Too bad I was about to die.
Chase, the Abandonato Underboss, shoved the knife deeper against my skin until I felt the warm trickle of blood slide down my throat. “There is no out clause, brother.”
Brother?
Brother.
That word hit me harder than murder. I hated him even more for using something so sacred. “I’m not your fucking brother.”
“Listen, you little shit,” Chase was right in my face, his blue eyes cold yet blazing with fury. “The minute you work with us, you’re family; there is no out clause because you’re bound by blood, so yes, you will be our fucking brother. Deal with it!”
I swallowed, tasting bile in my throat. When would it end? I wanted to put the monster away, not awaken him, and all these dicks kept doing was make me want to show them just how angry I truly was, just how lethal I could be.
They would blink and be dead.
I was that good.
That revered.
Let them try.
Brother, my ass.
I ignored the way the word made me sweat, made me want. How pathetic. Had Dad truly not beaten my soul out of me? Had this life not done so?
I lifted my gaze to the men. “So? What will it be? Piranhas? Quick shot to the head after a nice stroll through Lake Michigan with cement?”
“You came a long way just to ask a question you already knew the answer to. Also, your imagination is entirely too disappointing right now. Lake Michigan is for amateurs.” Tex stood. “But you still came, which means you’re willing to do whatever it takes for us to forget you exist.”
Should I say it? Could I? To these men? This wasn’t the meeting I was expecting. It was the complete opposite, but I had nothing left to lose. “I want out.”
“Why?” His eyes narrowed. “You have the most kills any hitman has had in the last decade, and they call you the fucking mafia Grim Reaper because nobody can even hear you approach. You wanna throw that all away? For what?”
“A girl.” Chase guessed, slowly pulling the knife down from my throat. “It’s the only reason any of us would walk away. It’s a cute story, bro, this fantasy you’ve built up in your head that you can actually walk away from what’s in your blood, what’s poisoning your soul.”
He wasn’t wrong.
I didn’t give him the satisfaction of agreeing out loud, but I knew he could see it in my eyes; his grin was cruel. Ending him would be so satisfying. The great Abandonato executioner.
People compared us, me and Chase, for our willingness to do whatever it took to get the job done, for our love of blood, and spilling it for vengeance.
It was the one button I hated people to push.
Because I knew I was better.
He’d argue that point.
I’d get angry.
He’d get angrier.
I’d laugh, get punched.
A brawl would break out, and it would be useless because he’d be protected by every man in that room, and I’d have nothing but myself.
Not that I wasn’t completely used to that. Being alone. It was easier that way.
“One more job,” Tex said, surprising the hell out of me so much that I nearly knocked my chin on the blade of Chase’s knife. “We have a… situation.”
“You want me…” I burst out laughing. They didn’t. “…to work… for you guys?” I waved my hand between them. “Yeah, not happening.”