We were planning to do this on New Year’s Eve.
Usher in a brand-new year with a brand-new leader and a new way of thinking.
If Paulo is where I think he is, I am all out of patience, and I suspect I will be moving those plans up to tonight.
“What was that, Francesca?” I ask, drilling her with a look that lets her know exactly what I think of her. “I couldn’t quite hear it.”
“You think you’re so smart.” Her snide tone rolls off me like water off a duck’s back. “I don’t know what you’re holding over my Paulo, but one day, you’ll get your comeuppance.”
“Not unless you get yours first.” I waggle my brows and grin at her. “Speaking of the degenerate, where is my husband?”
Gaia glares at me, poking her insipid husband in the ribs. “Are you going to let her talk about my brother like that? He’s Don Conti! No one gets to disrespect him, especially nothis wife.” Her husband looks at her with an expression that says yes, he will totally let me talk about Paulo however I like. Tomasso might be bland, but he’s not stupid. He knows I run the show. He knows most of the men are loyal to me. He’s not about to cross me. It will pain me to kill him, but I can’t leave him alive because he’s not loyal to me, and I can’t be sure he won’t go to the authorities.
“Out with a decent woman, if he has any sense,” Francesca hisses.
“That’s a no then,” Renzo deadpans, swallowing the cheap whiskey in one mouthful.
“You know where he is.” I storm across the room, jabbing my finger in her face. I see where my husband got his priggish looks from. His mother is as ugly on the inside as she is on the outside. “You know what he does, and you have stood by and said nothing. Done nothing.” All the blood leaches from her face. I have never been this blunt before, but the gloves are off now. D-day is approaching, and I have zero fucks to give anymore. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”
Since I discovered the truth, I have been torn to shreds with the knowledge. Wanting to turn my husband in but knowing I can’t. The harsh reality is most made men would not care, and a lot of the cops are on the Conti payroll. I haven’t had a chance to earn their loyalty yet, and I know they would bury the evidence in return for a cash bribe. So, I can’t do anything about it. Not without collapsing the empire I have painstakingly built.
I have to remember my end goal. That goal will ensure no other child suffers at the hands of the mafia. Women will no longer be treated as second-class citizens. When I am president of The Commission, I will enact real change. Not talk about it endlessly and only go halfway with measures, like the current president, Bennett Mazzone.
Until then, I do what I can for these girls and boys. I get them as far away from my husband as possible, and I keep him locked up for as long as I can without drawing suspicion.
But no more.
It ends now.
“What is she talking about?” Orsino asks as I stride from the room, my resolve set.
“I’ll call in the troops,” Renzo says when we are out of earshot, already reading my mind.
“I’m sorry to ruin your Christmas Eve, but this has to happen now.”
“Agreed, and no apologies are necessary.”
* * *
“Where were you tonight?” I ask the instant my husband steps foot in his bedroom. I kicked him out of the house he bought us the second I had ammunition to use against him. We haven’t lived together for years. The pathetic prick moved back in with his mother, and he has never been to the house I purchased when we effectively separated. Flipping the lock on his bedroom door, I step out of the shadows, ready for this final confrontation.
“Get the fuck out, whore.” He doesn’t bother to look over his shoulder at me as he starts undressing.
I press the pre-typed text and send it to Renzo, letting him know it’s time to set this in motion. We have teams all over Philly, ready to strike at Paulo’s loyal supporters at the same time. No one will be expecting us to attack tonight, so I’m confident we will have the element of surprise.
“What have I told you about raping little children, Paulo?” I deliberately soften my tone as I pad quietly toward him. “What did I tell you the last time I caught you?” I have used various threats and incentives over the years to stop him from targeting young girls and boys, and I have surveillance on him. But he still has men loyal to him. Men who aid him in hurting children. I will celebrate their deaths later tonight when we have taken complete control. I won’t waste a single second feeling any remorse.
Today we expunge some of the vile monsters who prey on the vulnerable.
Paulo whips around, shirt open, exposing his grotesque swollen belly and the smattering of curly gray hair on his wrinkled chest. He was forty-five when I was forced to marry him, and he’s an old man now. I laugh as he points a gun at my chest. “We both know you won’t pull the trigger.” Doing so will sign his own death warrant and that of his family.
“The worst day of my life was the day I agreed to take you off that bastard Salerno’s hands,” he snarls, spit flying from his mouth. “He knew he was selling me a dud. That you couldn’t give me an heir, and he didn’t care.”
In a lightning-fast move, I steal the gun from his hand and pistol-whip him across the face. He loses his balance, and his legs go out from under him as he crumples to the carpeted floor. I kick him between the legs before pressing my booted foot under his chin, tilting his head back, and restricting his air supply. Tears leak from his eyes as he curls his legs up, and a strangled whimper escapes his mouth.
“I can’t have children because of men like you.” I press down on his neck as he claws at my foot with both hands. “It’s poetic justice you leave no heirs, and I really like the irony of you dying at my hands,” I say, removing the pressure from his neck and stepping back. There is no fun in killing him like this. While I don’t have time to linger, I intend to make this as painful as possible. I point the gun at his head. “Get up on the bed, you disgusting piece of shit.” I kick at his leg when he doesn’t move.
“Fuck you, whore.” He swipes at me with a dagger he had tied to his leg, but he really should know better.
