Chapter 4
1126words
Leo smiles sadly. 'You are, but you are also Don Vitalo. I served your father and now serve you. I might as well have demanded your balls on a plate."
True. I would have put a bullet in his skull for that kind of stupid request. And if I didn't, my father would certainly have arranged it. Still, it has to be more honorable than going down as a traitor and a rat.
I sigh, hating the man for putting me in this position 'You know I can't just walk away from this. I can't forgive this."
Leo nods. 'I know. And I'd rather you do it, though." He shrugs. 'It beats being gunned down by a bunch of strangers."
I seethe. He doesn't seem to give a damn how I feel about that burden being placed squarely on my shoulders. 'My life is already a fucked up circus without you piling this bullshit—your blood—on me, you selfish son of a bitch."
'Si, I am. I've put twelve of my best years into the Outfit. I've bled for your family. I've done things that keep me up at night. And even when I sleep… they're always there, the blood, the screams."
He reaches for his empty glass again, but he abandons the effort halfway there. 'Maybe I knew all along there was no way out. That Romario was a lying snake who just wanted a chance to start another civil war. But it's never-ending. I just wanted to get it over with."
'Get it over with?" I scoff. He seems to have forgotten how this world works. 'Your particular brand of suicide is fucked up, Leo. You've chosen to set fire to your own house while your family is still trapped inside. Once you're dead, it doesn't end. Romario will come for Mariana and Victoria."
His dark brown eyes get even wilder, 'That's why I need you, Zade. When I'm gone, they'll have no one. I need you to keep them safe."
Fucking incredible. 'You should have thought about them before acting like a fool. You betrayed me. What makes you think I'll lift one goddamned finger for you?"
He shrugs but replies without hesitation, 'Don Vitalo won't. But Zade Vitalo will.
I cock my eyebrow at him but he presses on. 'Who you are and what you do, Zade, you've always found a way to keep those things separate, to keep that shit from eating away at your soul, you know?"
He's right about my tendency to compartmentalize shit, but I'm surprised that after twenty-seven years of friendship, Leo still hasn't figured out that I have no soul. There's nothing to eat away. I remain silent, only watching him watch me.
Then as if suddenly gripped by a sense of urgency of someone who knows I won't warn him before I shoot him in the next few minutes, he starts to rattle, 'Mariana and Victoria are staying at a motel outside the city," he withdraws a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and slides it across the table. There's an address, and a series of bank account numbers scrawled on it. 'I've got some money stashed away—not much, but something. Help my girls disappear.
'You put them in a seedy motel? Are you fucking crazy, Leo?" Nothing Leo is doing lately seems to be making any lick of sense. 'You might as well be waving a red flag in front of a bull. You don't think Romario's rebels are tailing them as we speak? Being kidnapped right now, especially with what happened tonight?"
He nods sadly, 'Which is why they need you right now Zade. I'm—I'm done."
I recognize the look in his eyes—quiet, resolute understanding and acceptance. I've seen that look too many times before pulling the trigger. He truly is done.
I push the paper back to him and sigh, 'No need, Mariana and Victoria will be fine."
I signal the leggy blonde-haired waitress for another round of drinks. Five minutes ago, I'd been contemplating letting her suck me off. Now, I just want to get the fuck out of here. But there will be no leaving, not until I've done what has to come next.
I'm going to kill my best friend tonight and kill him in cold blood. I have no choice. In this life, there's no room for betrayal.
The blonde sets the drinks down on the table a moment later, lingering with her fuchsia pink-tipped fingers around my glass and her matching pink lips smiling at me. The color seems too bright and too childish now.
I wave her off and turn my attention back to Leo. 'Drink," I say, picking up my own glass.
'What are we drinking to?" he asks, trying to sound nonchalant but failing miserably.
'To hoping you burn in hell for making me do this. For doing this to Mariana and Victoria."
He nods, raises his glass, and drinks every drop. When he sets down the glass, he squares his shoulders, his hands resting lightly on the table. He's ready. No fight, no making this any more difficult than it needs to be.
I look around the room. It's just my men, the blonde who has seen way too much, she might as well be a soldier, the redhead currently bouncing on Damon's cock, and Michele, the bartender. I reach for my gun.
'I'm sorry, Zade. I never meant—"
The sound of glass shattering fills the room.
One window.
One bullet.
And suddenly, one man slumped on the table with a bleeding hole in his head.
Leo.
He's looking at me, but he can't see me. He can't see the splatter of blood on my face. His blood. I've killed countless men in my life but never has their blood burned. It feels like acid, but rather than burning through my skin, it's eating its way into the core of my me, corroding some part of me I hadn't known existed.
I'm on my feet and out the door in a flash as tires squeal and a black Beamer flies out of the bar's parking lot.
I squint, catching what I can of the license plate, but there's no need to wonder who's responsible for the shot.
Romario came for blood. The man has guts, doing it right in my club while the man was sitting next to me.
But thank fucking Christ that he had.
