Page 79 of Texting My Mafia Boss

“Being wild,” Ottavio mutters, with another cynical laugh. “What a highfalutin way to describe being a serial assaulter of women and kids, Bastian. What a way with words you have.”

Cesare leans forward. “Are you telling me your uncle was behindallof this?”

“Yes,” Bastian whispers. “He was careful. There’s no written evidence, nothing like that. But yes, he told me to do this. He wanted control, he was afraid of losing his foothold in Ettore’s operation ever since his wife passed. When he didn’t get his way, he sent me to push him into a new alliance. Of course, he couldn’t be seen to start it.”

“Look at him!” Ruggero snarls. “They’ve tortured the poor boy. They could make him say anything!”

“You don’t want to go down that road, Ruggero,” I warn him, standing and walking to the center of the room, where Bastian lies slumped. “I promise you, admit the truth now. Look at your men. They’re not stupid. They know you’re fighting a losing battle.”

“The testimony of a nobody!” Ruggero roars.

“A nobody you dressed all in black to honor. I suppose you’ll only love him when he’s dead. Let me help you with that.”

It’s ugly and vicious, what I do to Bastian in front of these men. It takes a piece of me. It strips me bare to my dark, burning soul.But I have to do it. Because he deserves it. He tried to hurt those I care about most. And these men only understand darkness, pain, primal punishment. I beat him the rest of the way to death, then wipe my hands on my trousers.

“Die with some dignity, Ruggero,” I snarl, staring at him. “Admit it.”

“There’s nothing to admit,” Ruggero hisses. “And you’ve just killed your only witness!”

I sigh, gesturing to my men. I can feel the energy in the room change. The rank and file are staring at me with a kind of brutal wonder. Ottavio and Cesare look impressed, knowing I did what I had to do.

Two minutes of tense quiet later, my men return. Ambra Calvi stands between them, Ruggero’s daughter, the woman they tried to make me marry. She’s a thin woman with blonde hair, a professional air about her. Nothing wrong with her, but nothing right either—not for me. Nothing but our names.

“Ambra?” Ruggero says, and he sounds terrified.

“Dad, I’m sorry,” she whispers. She holds her head high, purposefully avoiding looking at her cousin. “But I can’t do this anymore.”

“What are you talking about, dear?” Ruggero tries to make his voice sound sweet, but it comes out shaky with rage. “You’re confused.”

“I can’t be a slave to this life anymore,” Ambra says.

You and me both.

“I heard you and Bastian,” she goes on. “I heard you planning. I heard you talking about what you were going to do to that poor girl, to Sylvana Bellandi. I heard it all. I tried to forget it. Tried to pretend you were still the versions you showed to me. But you knew about this?—”

I expected more of a back and forth. I expected Ruggero to still have some love for his daughter, even just in his own messed-up way. But in his final moments, he reveals who he really is. Blind rage takes over. Hatred bubbles up in him.

He leaps to his feet quicker than I could’ve imagined, gun in hand. When he raises it, it’s not to shoot me or even one of my men. It’s to shoot his own daughter. That’s what he wants his legacy to be.

I take out my gun and empty the magazine into his chest and face. I keep firing until I hear theclick-click-clickthat means it’s empty. My ears ringing even worse than before.

Everybody has their guns out now, every soldier, both Dons. But Ruggero’s men aren’t firing at me.

“Get her out of here,” I growl to nobody in particular.

Ambra sobs as my men lead her from the room.

I drop my gun and raise my hands, looking at the Calvi men. “We all have a choice here,” I growl. “We agree that these Calvis were poisoned fruit, one of your high-ranking men becomes temporary Don, and you assign a new Don in due course. Or you shoot me down here. Kill as many of my men as you can. Kill some of their men in the process…” I nod at Ottavio and Cesare. “And we turn this city into a bloodbath.”

I always thought I wouldn’t be scared when the time came. And maybe that would’ve been true once. But now I’ve got too much to lose. A better relationship with my daughter. A chance at having a real partner, real love, real connection.

Hope—that’s what I never had before. And that’s what they could take away with a simple squeeze of the trigger.

“Know something, fellas,” I say fiercely. “If you do the right thing – if you accept this scumbag deserved it, and let me walk out of here – no one in this room will ever try to force me or my family to do a goddamn thing. No marriage alliances. No implications about my daughter. Nothing. If you’re not happy with that, then do it.” A pause. I slam my fist against my chest.“Fucking do it!”

Corrado Vescari is the first to lower his gun. “This ends here.”

Ottavio sighs dramatically, sweat beading his forehead. “Does that mean I can light another cigarette?”