DeLuca (Mafia Romance)

Lonzo was resting on his knees, one hand holding himself up, the other had obviously been injured and was cradled to his chest. I brought my right foot up and slammed it down square in the middle of his back causing his good arm to give out and his body to fall onto the broken appendage. His startled cry was cut off when I kicked him onto his back and brought my foot down again, this time on the elbow of his broken arm effectively dislocating the joint there. The room was filled with screams of pain from Lonzo and wheezing interrupted by a wet choking sound coming from Frank.

I took a deep breath, the scent of blood filling my nostrils, and turned back around to face the men still seated at the table. Not a single one of them had moved an inch, all stoic and unflinching. If any of them was disturbed by the scene in front of them they didn’t show it.

“In case any of you think for one fucking minute you are smart enough to betray me and get away with it, I want you to remember this,” My voice was low and demanding, all eyes in the room glued to where I stood at the head of the table.

“Antonio, Enzo,” I snapped, nodding to the men at my feet.

They came forward and lifted Frank onto the table, sliding him to the middle. I took off my suit jacket and laid it over the back of a chair. I proceeded to remove my cufflinks and rolled the sleeves of my white oxford up my forearms. I did this slowly and methodically, maintaining eye contact with at least one of my men at all times.

When I was finished, I nodded to Antonio who rolled over a catering cart with a countless number of weapons. I picked up the large hunting knife and climbed onto the table and stood over Frank’s broken body. Looking up once more I spoke to the men still seated at the table, my voice harsh and loud, “I am smarter, I am stronger, and if you betray me, I will make you wish you were in Hell before I end you.”

They may have feared me before but by the end of the day they would be irrevocably terrified of the horror I could unleash. For the next three hours I tortured the treacherous, loose-lipped men before letting them bleed out on the board room table in front of everyone.

…

Unfortunately, the lack of communication from their informants must have tipped off the Russians because by the time I had made it down to Portland to deal with them personally the Kashnikov clan had closed up shop and left town. Of course since they had no sense of loyalty they had fled in the night leaving their men as sitting ducks for the taking, and take I did.

…

The bell above the door chimed as I walked into the Deli that acted as a hub for the Kashnikov’s business, with Antonio, Enzo, Sal and Jimmy trailing behind me. The smell of onions and vinegar permeated the air. The man behind the counter stood up straight from where he’d been leaning over the counter reading the newspaper.

“Where are they?” I demanded, raising my gun to his face. His hands immediately shot up in a placating gesture, the universal sign for ‘don’t shoot, I’m unarmed’ as if that would stop me. He pointed to a door at the back of the store. “Jimmy, stay with the clerk,” I called as I made my way to the door that would lead me to answers.

Pushing through the door, we continued down a narrow hallway. It was dimly lit and the forest green walls made it feel even smaller. Silently we came to another door at the end of the hall. Enzo intercepted me when I reached to open the door, shaking his head once. He positioned himself in front of me and pushed it open, Antonio following him in immediately before I was even able to cross the threshold. There were two men at a small card table playing poker in the center of what appeared to be a storage room. Both the men jumped up when we entered, reaching for their guns.Têxt © NôvelDrama.Org.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” My tone ice cold.

The men looked at each other as if the other had the answer of what to do next. This gave Enzo and Antonio time to position themselves in front of the men, guns drawn, eliminating their decision.

“Tell me where Vitaly is,” I commanded. When neither of the men spoke I continued, “Why are you looking at each other? I’m the one with the gun, I’m the one asking questions, you should be looking at me. Fucking idiots. Now tell me where he is!” My patience was growing thin, I wanted this done with.

“We don’t know who you’re talking about,” the shorter and rounder of the two said. He was wearing a zip up track jacket and running pants that made a swishing sound every time he moved, it was annoying as shit.

Way to keep the stereotype alive, asshole.

“So you’re the idiot of the two, good to know. I only need one of you to tell me where he is anyways.” I said, aiming my gun and letting two bullets fly into him, one between the eyes and one in the chest. “Back to my original question,” I turned to the other man in the room, his face was blank but I could see the fear in his eyes. “Where?” I demanded.

When he still didn’t respond I moved closer, “Are you fucking deaf? I asked you a fucking question.”

“I tell you nothing,” he said, spitting at my feet.

“Wrong answer,” I said, shooting him in the left knee. He fell and a tortured cry ripped from his throat. Impatient to get this over with I holstered my weapon and stood in front of him, gripping the back of his neck and pushing his face into the concrete floor. With my free hand I reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet. Straightening, I gave him a vicious kick in the side, causing him to collapse completely to the ground.

“What do we have here?” I asked pulling his ID out of his wallet, “Kirill Sokolov,” I read aloud, “8213 SE 86th Ave. Portland, OR 97266. And look there’s even a family portrait.” Flipping the picture over, I read the inscription, “Alina age nine, Dimitri age seven, and Natalya age four. Now Kirill, it would be a shame if anything were to happen to them. If you tell me what I want to know, no harm with come to your family. However, if you continue to fuck with me I will make sure they each die a painful death, am I understood?”

“Russia,” he spit out immediately. “They left this morning, that’s all I know. I swear it. Please do not hurt my family.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard. You have my word that no harm will come to your family at the hands of myself or my men. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for yourself.” I said before disposing of him.

…

With Vitaly and his sons in the wind we slaughtered each and every one of the men left behind. Destroyed or turned every one of their business partners and allies. If I couldn’t find them then I was going to make sure they had nothing to come back to if they were ever so inclined.