Obeying The Cruel Mafia

VICISSITUDE.

CHAPTER THREE.

RICARDO MARTELLO.

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I threw my rifle bag to the backseat as I tapped my fingers impatiently against the steering wheel, listening to the song playing from my phone while awaiting Gillian to pick up the call. Gillian was one of my most trusted men and we carried out, totally, any operation together. He was more like the beta while I remained the boss, the dominant one, the alpha, next in line to being Don of the powerful Italian Mafia.

The line rang for a few more seconds, and Just when I thought he wasn't going to pick up, I heard an abrupt beep. "Sorry, capo," was the first thing he said to me. That was one thing I loved about Gillian, not only was he a loyal dog, he was also very much dedicated to serving me and my family. "I didn't mean to let the phone ring for seconds, I was busy telling the rest of the men to take their appropriate places for the attack. Scusa, capo."

"Lascia perdere le scuse, Gillian," I told him in Italian, telling him I didn't need his apologies; Because really, I didn't need them. All I needed was for my execution to go out perfectly like I envisioned in my mind. "I want the security men by the gate in a pool of their own blood right now. And do you see Damon from your hideout?"

There was a brief silence over the phone, then I heard Gillian spitting Italian to someone, probably one of the men with him. He asked the man if he could see Damon from the point he was at, and I didn't really get the man's response before Gillian's voice boomed back through my phone speakers. "Emiliano can see him from the hideout, as clear as daylight. He's in his room. The third room on the first floor. Old man is busy f*****g a cagna."

"Damn the cagna then," I wasn't joking when I said that, because whosoever Damon Acosta was fuvking with, be it innocent or not, I gave no two f***s. Their time on Earth would be cut short as soon as I made eye contact with them. "You'll get my signal once I get down from my car," I picked up a portable radio from the glovebox, the compartment built inside the dashboard, and switched it on. A portable radio was a primitive in our echelon. "Remember, you all are to use your radios and silencers, and once you see me counting down my fingers, that's the queue. To attack."

"Bene Capo."

I hung up the phone and Just as I was about to get down from my car, from the corner of my eyes I saw a car drive past me at high speed before packing directly at the front of Damon Acosta gate. Three men alighted the car and soon after, a woman was carried over one of their shoulders as they entered into the mansion. I couldn't see their faces clearly from where I was in my car. But one thing I did know was that; they were definitely meeting their doom by entering into that mansion.

I stepped out of my car, holding the portable radio in place. I placed a silencer over my gun, placed the magazine before loading it with bullets. Three of my fingers went up and then slowly I took each one of them down. At the last count, a silent shoot out took place and all the men by the gate were all down unconscious in a pool of their own blood.

My movements were swift, almost invisible, as I made my way towards the gate where I was joined by four of my own men. No greetings or trivialities were needed between us, since that wasn't what we came for. We came to shed blood and avenge the Injustice laced upon the family. After a second long inspection, my men confirmed that all the men by the gate were all dead. Then we proceeded to enter the gate of the mansion.

Like a chameleon passing using a camouflage, we were all subtle with our movements, taking out everyone we came across silently. The men around the mansion weren't as much as I'd expected, and before we knew it, all of Damon Acosta's men were already in Gehenna, perishing in the deepest corners.

My men and I aligned in a straight line, right at the front door of the mansion. I held the portable radio to my mouth, "Is Damon still in his room?"

"sì," Gillian's mechanical voice came through the radio almost immediately. "But he isn't fuvking with that cunt anymore. He's got company."

"How many?"

"Six of them, including the cagna."

"Very well then, consider them dead."

Hanging up the radio, I reloaded my pistol, including the one in my holster. I placed the radio into my leather jacket and kicked the door to his mansion open. The mansion was quiet, unlike what I'd expected. I ushered my men in to sweep around the house, killing everything that could breathe and move. I kept turning three sixty degrees as I made my way upstairs to Damon's room.

On getting to his room, I cracked my joints before I bursted into the room, taking everyone in there off-guard.

There were six of them in the room, four, including Damon, were men and two were females. One of the females, a blonde, was laying on the bed naked, her legs spread widely apart as she gawked at me in awe. She was the first person I killed, splashing blood all across the duvet.

The three men brought out their guns instantaneously. "You wouldn't want to do that," I said, quietly, to them. "My men are out there pointing their snipers at everyone in here."

I was speaking the truth and they all confirmed it when they saw the red dotted-lights on each of their heads.

"Now drop the gun," I ordered them and they begrudgingly complied. Not like I gave them any other options. "Your kneels on the floor and your hands to the back of your head."

They all did as I ordered including the almighty Damon Acosta who was only in a white robe. I took my gaze to the left where I saw a brunette lady, her face pale and eyes white as she stared at me as though she'd met with a ghost. I knew her face. I had met with her before, but I couldn't place my head around the time and place I'd gotten to meet her.

I however decided to take her life last since she didn't seem like much of a threat. I raised up my fingers and after counting to three, the three men were all shot dead on their heads, leaving me alone with Damon Acosta and the lady who wouldn't stop staring at me.

I dragged a chair from the corner of the room, took off my leather jacket and placed my pistol into my holster. I sat on the chair and took off my beanie, staring at Damon Acosta whose face seemed to have been ridden with blood. His face was hard, in a scowl as he stared deadly at me, but his eyes told otherwise. They were dilated, very much scared of what I could do to him.

That fear in his eyes, I feasted in it.

I brought out the knife from my boots and stared at Damon. "I am sure you don't remember me." I stated the obvious.

"And why the hell should I?" He seethed, his voice dripping poisonous venom. "Who the f**k are you? And what the hell do you want? Money? I have a lot to spare."

I smiled, shaking my head. No amount of money could put a stop to my revenge, besides, my family was already rich enough. Richer than the Acostas to be precise. "I don't need your money," I said, "and for someone who's to be dead soon you do have a lot of guts by talking recklessly."

"I was never raised to be a coward."

"Dannazione! Nor was I, and that's why I'm here, Damon Acosta," I stood up, raising my knife up as I took delicate steps towards him. "I didn't come here to have a conversation with you. I'm here to take your life in the most gruesome manner ever imagined."

He smirked, bringing his hands down. "Fine," his voice became softer. "Which Mafia group are you from? The Indians? France? Canada? Where the hell are you from motherfucker?" And as though realization dawned on him, he said, "Italiano?"

"Bingo," I nodded. "Thought you'd never get it right."

His lips paused and I could see perspiration had begun to break out on his forehead. "What the hell do you want from me? You already avenged your Don's wife and son's death by killing my elder brother, so what the hell do y'all want from me now?"

I took a step closer to him and placed my knife on his forehead. "I am not yet satisfied. Not until I see every last one of the Acosta drop dead," I trailed the knife down to his eyes as rage began to fuel me. "You killed my Mamá and brother all because you wanted to steal from our warehouse."

"It was a mistake. I'm sure Diego didn't mean to kill them," he raised his hands up himself. "Just let me be. . .wait a minute, I've seen you before. At that charity ball back in Italy. You're Don Martello's son — the one with the codename; leopard."

I nodded my head in affirmation. "The one you slapped."

"I remember," he said. "See leopard or whatever your name might be, just let me go."

I shook my head, "It's too late, we already made eye contact."

I stabbed him in the eyes with my knife and he screamed loudly in pain as he fell to the floor while I heard a loud gasp from behind. I knew that gasp came from the lady I planned on killing last. I bent down to Damon's level and he spat on me as he placed a hand over his bloody eyeball. "Go to hell. I promise you'll live to regret this day if you kill me," he swore as I ran my glove through my face, cleaning his spit off my face. "My men would come for you. My whole family would."

"That's if I don't get to them first."

I slit his throat open before he could utter another word and blood, his blood, stained my face. I knelt next to his dead body on the floor, and took off his robe, leaving him naked before me. I proceeded to work.

On his torso, I used my knife to scribble words on it before gouging out both of his eyes. I contemplated decapitating him myself but I thought against it. I didn't want to get myself stained with too much blood so I decided to leave that to my men. I stood up from where I knelt next to him and placed both his eyes into my beanie. My next kill was the lady that looked familiar to me and I decided to give her an easy death by killing her with a headshot.

I took off my blood-drenched glove before laying hands on my gun. I was about to pull the trigger on her when her face flashed through my head. I remembered her. She was the lady I'd met at the diner. The one that had left my words hanging in the air after serving my orders. I mean how could I forget her? She literally walked out on me, Ricardo Martello, the next Don to the Italian Mafia. Mancanza di rispetto totale! Total disrespect!

And she also seemed to remember me because I noticed the glint that crossed her eyes. "What are you doing here?" I asked.

Did she work for the Acosta's? Even if she wasn't, I had to kill her. She witnessed everything I'd done tonight and as much as I wished to let her go, I couldn't. Witnesses needed to die; it was what every Mafia group built their foundation upon.

". . .i, my. . ." Her words hung up in the air once again as she stared at me with her soulless hazel eyes. She looked scared. I couldn't blame her for being scared, after witnessing everything I'd done, she deserved to be. "Please don't kill me."

"Do you work for Acosta's?"

Her eyes were still glued at me, her kneels on the floor, hands held together firmly with a dutch tape. "I don't know the Acosta's, at least not until tonight," she said, and for some inexplicable reason I believed her words. I dropped my gun to my side. "I was kidnapped. Held captive after being taken from my house. They also killed. . .they killed my mother."

She seemed pitiful and I had to snap myself out from having any sympathy for her. I shouldn't be having any emotions. It was unlike me. She was the prey and I was the predator, just like how an Omega was to an Alpha, a lower entity. An entity I needed to get rid of.

I held my gun firmly and raised it again to her head. She bursted out in tears, wailing loudly like a child. "Please," she kept on crying. I didn't know what to do at that moment to her, whether to kill her or set her free, but one thing I knew was that I couldn't set her free. I was confounded. "Please don't kill me. I don't want to die, at least not yet. I promise," she hiccupped and continued again. "I promise I won't tell a soul about whatever happened here tonight. Please."

"Fanculo!" My breathing came out in rhonchi. "Why should I believe you won't?"

"I wouldn't, I swear," she was persistent. "Just let me live, please. I really don't want to die. I haven't collected an Oscar. I haven't even given my life to Christ yet. If I die now I'd perish in hell. Please let me go."

I stifled a laugh at her acts and placed my gun back into my holster. I didn't know why I did so. I should have killed her but I couldn't find it in me either. Was it because she seemed so pitiful? I doubted it because I had killed people who seemed more pitiful than she looked at that moment. My last kill in Italy was an old man who stole from our warehouse. I'd been the one to pierce a bullet right through his skull even after he begged for his life and pooped on himself due to fear.

So what was it about her that made me drop my gun for the first time ever? I couldn't place my hand on it.

"You're a witness, Signora," I said, squatting down at her front. "I can't just let you go. What do you think I should do then?"

She stopped crying but her hiccups didn't stop as she seemed to give a thought to my questions. "I will do anything. Just name it, what do you want me to do? Say it."

A teasing smile made its way to my face as I brought out my gun from my holster again. "You mean anything?"

"Yes, anything. You just name it."

"Even if I want you to be my Cazzo amico?" f**k buddy.

She nodded. "Yes."

I snickered, then pulled the trigger.

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