I lowered my gun slowly, narrowing my eyes at the display of emotionality.
“See! See! You got what you deserve!” he raged, his head red and perspiring. “You got it!”
Breathing harshly, he turned around to me. My gun was leveled at his chest by now, as I was trying to decide if I could risk killing him as well. Rocco Scuderi wasn’t a good man, but he was as loyal as his brother, maybe even more so, and he didn’t share his brother’s sadism, at least he hadn’t openly displayed it until now.
Rocco’s gaze dropped to the gun in my hand, the Russian model that had ended his brother’s life, realizing it could end his as well. “I won’t tell anyone,” he said.
I moved closer to him, stepping over the dead Russian in the process. I didn’t take my eyes off Rocco. “You won’t?” I asked coldly. “Honor dictates that you tell your father the truth about who killed his heir, your vow binds you to reveal any betrayal of the Outfit to your Capo, my father.”
Rocco grimaced, his eyes shining with hatred. “For as long as I can remember, I wanted him dead. I would have killed him myself…” He shook his head. “I’m grateful that you did it. I’ll forever be grateful, Dante. I’ll take the secret to the grave with me, I swear it.”
“Why?” I stopped a few steps from him, the gun still trained on his heart.
“Because you gave me everything I ever wanted. Jacopo is dead, and I’ll be Consigliere.”
I tilted my head. “True. You’ll take over for your father eventually.”
Rocco frowned. “If he allows it. Jacopo was his favorite child.”
Jacopo’s brain decorated the bare concrete floor. “I can’t trust anyone with a secret of that proportion, you certainly understand.”
Rocco’s gaze became frantic. I could practically see his thoughts racing in his head. He took a step closer and I raised my gun higher. “Dante, I’m going to give my father poison, something that’s difficult to detect unless you’re looking for it specifically. Something that’ll make his end look like a heart attack. He’s had one before and it’s only natural for him to suffer another one after his heir, his favorite child is cruelly killed by a Bratva bastard. You’ll convince your father that I was devastated and that my father’s death was a natural cause and I’ll convince everyone the enemy killed my brother. That way I’m not the only one guarding a secret.”
Rocco had the potential to be a useful Consigliere, more so than Jacopo could ever have been. His father was only marginally better than Jacopo and too strongly entwined with my father. If I wanted a gradual power shift, I’d have to change the key players now. Killing Rocco would raise suspicions and leave me with Scuderi Senior to deal with for a decade or longer. I needed to diminish my father’s power now, in subtle but effective ways. “Wait a week or two. Let him die after the funeral.”
Rocco nodded, relief blatant on his face. “Thank you, Dante. You won’t regret it. I’ll be a loyal Consigliere, if you want me.”
“You’ll be Consigliere when I claim power, that’s my promise to you.” I paused. “But if you ever mention this event again, I’ll finish what I didn’t today. You’ll take this secret to your grave either way.”
“Nobody will find out from me.” Rocco regarded me with admiration and respect. I couldn’t detect deceit in his demeanor. I lowered the gun and put it back down beside the Russian.
“You need to move him to the side a bit so the angle is right,” Rocco said.
He was right. I dragged the Russian to the left then shoved my glove back into my pocket. Rocco gave a satisfied nod.
Enzo stormed inside, looking disheveled. His eyes landed on Jacopo. “Fuck. The fuckers got him?”
I nodded. “He was struck by a Russian bullet. We will have to avenge him. The Bratva needs to pay with blood,” I said firmly.
Rocco smiled grimly. “They will for killing my brother.”
A shared lie. I didn’t trust Rocco, but I trusted in his hatred for his brother and his eagerness to become Consigliere. Both would ensure his silence… for the time being.
One betrayal was always followed by another. It would take years for me to realize it.After a late-night meeting with my father, the old Scuderi, and our Captains, I finally headed up to my room. I wasn’t sure if Father really believed that Jacopo had been shot so shortly after I’d found out he was to marry Ines. I had a feeling he knew of my betrayal but chose to ignore it. Or maybe he’d hold it over my head later. I wasn’t sure of his motives. He had only one heir, me, and he and Mother were too old for another child. He was bound to me like I was bound to him if I wanted to keep the respect of the Outfit. Patricide was something that wouldn’t be accepted in our traditional circles.