Lately, I’m the one putting her in danger because something has changed between Lucy and me. I tell myself I didn’t noticewhen it happened. That there wasn’t a specific moment. But that’s a lie.
It was three months ago. Lucy came downstairs for dinner wearing a dress Mom had bought her for a family event. Just a simple black dress that made her eyes look as bewitching as jewels.
She smiled at me, the same smile she’s given me a thousand times. She was still the same Lucy who holds my hand during thunderstorms and steals food off my plate, but I couldn’t breathe.
I stared at her, frozen, while universes exploded into existence inside me. She wasn’t my little Lucy anymore. She’s never been just my little Lucy.
I left the room before anyone saw my face and the way I was looking at my stunning, sixteen-year-old sister.
I’ve been trying to kill these feelings. I date other girls, though never seriously, and never anyone who matters. Lucy thinks I’m pulling away and being evasive because I don’t care anymore, but that’s not true. Every time she touches me, every time she looks at me with those trusting eyes, my thoughts go to dark, heated places. I want things that are dangerous.
I want to make her mine. And that makes me a monster, because as far as Mom and Dad and everyone in Malus knows, she’s my blood.
Emilio, the man on his knees before Don Carlucci, has broken his oath. Last night he got drunk and ranted about the Sokolis, a newer, rival crime family in Malus, boasting for everyone in the bar to hear that Don Carlucci was going to crush them. It was a stupid, nonsense rant, but it will bring Sokolis to our doorstep. They will hear about the drunken threats. Probably they already have.
There’s a fireplace in Dad’s office, and a fire crackles menacingly in the grate despite the warm day. A fire iron is buried in the hot coals, its tip glowing red.
Dad pronounces Emilio’s sentence. “For your broken oath, you will be banished from Malus for the rest of your life. You are no longer part of this family.” He nods to two of his men, who rip the shirt from Emilio’s back.
“But I have nothing without you, Don Carlucci,” Emilio begs. “My family has nothing without you.”
The pleas fall on deaf ears. Dad turns to me. “Will you do the honors, Damiano?”
I look at him in surprise. Me? He’s never asked me to dispense justice before, but I know better than to argue with the don. I make my way over to the fireplace and pull out the iron. The end has been flattened into a square, and it glows red-hot.
My face betrays nothing, but my heart races and stomach churns as I look at the glowing tip. This is a sign that Dad is putting more trust in me. Giving me more responsibility. I have no choice but to show him that I’m worthy of his trust.
I walk around behind Emilio and contemplate his bare back. His Barone viper tattoo is coiled across his shoulder, and it’s over a foot long. He’ll be wishing he chose something more discreet in a moment. My own viper tattoo is curled around my forearm. I got it the day after I swore theomertà.
“Hold his arms.” At my command, two capos seize Emilio by the shoulders and wrists on each side.
I press the red-hot iron into Emilio’s flesh. He screams and tries to thrash from side to side, but the capos have a tight hold of him. His flesh sizzles and smokes. The acrid scent fills my nostrils.
I keep my face impassive as I work my way from the tail of the snake right up to its flickering tongue until the tattoo is completely obliterated.
When I’m finished, I toss the fire iron back into the grate and turn.
Bile burns the back of my throat, but I swallow it down. I don’t feel sorry for Emilio. I’m disgusted. He’s a fool for running his mouth. You couldn’t drag my secret out of me under the cruelest torture.
Emilio is shuddering and gasping, but his tears have turned to fury. He slowly lifts his head and glares at my father. This idiot still hasn’t learned his lesson.
“Fuck you, Don Carlucci. I hope you burn in—”
He doesn’t have the chance to finish the sentence. Francesco Conti, one of Dad’s capos, draws his gun and shoots Emilio in the back of the head. He slumps forward and lies motionless as blood pools across the floor.
Emilio’s stupidity is a bitter taste in my mouth. His wife and his children are now unprotected because of his actions. He’s a pathetic excuse for a man.
With a nod from Dad, a couple of soldiers come forward and drag the body from the room.
Francesco notices me staring at the bloodstained wooden floor and claps me on the back. “Are you going to lose your guts, boy?”
I heard a whole house full of meth addicts screaming in pain as they burned alive, along with my sister Liliana. I hear their screams in my nightmares every night. I held a bleeding Lucy in my arms, terrified she was going to be taken from me as well.
A short, sharp death like Emilio’s isn’t going to rattle me.
I examine my bare forearms for red spatter. “Is there blood on me? I have a date now.”
Behind his desk, Dad smiles and lights a cigar. As smoke wreaths his head, he says proudly, “That’s my boy.”
