As the men watch me distrustfully, I announce loudly, “Actually, I have something you’re going to want to see.” When Gambino looks down at me as though I’ve officially outstayed my welcome, I go on, “But I need to bring another guy in. He’s waiting for me to signal him in. He won’t advance until I call.”
Castillo looks confused. “See?”
My words come out slowly, meaningfully. “You’re really going to want to see this.”
Without a moment’s thought, he nods in consent. “Bring your man in.”
Taking one hand, I lower it to retrieve my cell and make the call. Not a minute later, a black Jaguar XE appears at the end of the drive, making the slow descent to where the gathering of men have amassed outside.
The tinted window lowers and Braden Kelly sticks his head out, smiling. “Someone order a pizza?” When nobody cracks a smile, Braden’s grin falls from his face, and he mutters out the side of his mouth, “Tough crowd.”
He exits the car, and his brothers, Shane and Connor, step out. Connor’s hand is still wrapped up tightly in gauze, the gunshot wounds I awarded him still fresh. Shane leans against the car, while Connor moves to sit on the hood.
Vito Gambino objects. “You said one guy, Carter.”
It’s Connor who responds, and he does this with a fuckload of heat. “If you think we’re going to let our baby brother into a locked house with the likes of you, and not be here to make sure he exits in the same condition he arrived in,” he scoffs, “you’ve lost your mind, old man.”
Gambino takes offense just as Connor meant for him to. “Why, you little fuck—”
But Castillo speaks over him, looking to the Kelly boys. “I know your mother, Aileen.” He tells them quietly, “She’s a nice lady. Runs a tight ship. Holds her family close. I like her.”
Shane, ever the diplomat, inclines his head, and his gratitude is genuine. “Thank you. We like her too, most days.”
Connor, who hasn’t stopped glaring at Vito Gambino, finds his sense, and explains, “Listen, we’re not going in with Braden. We’re just going to hang out here, completely in view. When family is concerned, we take safety seriously. I think you boys can understand that.”
Vito cools his jets with a long sigh, shaking his head. “Let’s get this over with.”
He calls all of the men into the house, stopping to whisper into the ear of one of his soldiers, and when the entrance is almost clear, two soldiers come to stand directly across from Connor and Shane. As I enter the house alongside Castillo, I hear Connor mutter to one of the men, “Well, aren’t you pretty in your fancy suits.”
We enter the parlor, the room where the meet was in full swing before my unexpected entrance, and Braden gets to work, setting up his laptop by the big screen TV on the wall and plugging wires into it. He gives me the thumbs-up when it’s ready to go, and I move to stand beside him to address the men of the underground.
“I don’t know some of you, but most of you will know me. Those of you who don’t will know my name in the very least, know my position.” I pause to look over the crowd of many faces. “The video you’re about to watch is disturbing. No sugarcoating it. But I need you to remember we’re men of code. I ask that you watch the video in full and think before you react.” My glare is deadly. “I have the reflexes of a cat and can shoot faster than any of you motherfuckers. I got the backing of thirty of the deadliest men and baddest bitches in the continental US, one of my recent acquisitions being Aileen Kelly. Not only did I put her youngest son in the ground, but also, I shot two holes in her middle son just days ago.” My gaze passes a smirking Claudio Conti, and I want to pistol-whip the jerk. Just for the record, I add, “As far as y’all are concerned, I’m untouchable. Remember that.”
I step forward to place my hand on the shoulder of Eduardo Castillo. From his place by Vito Gambino, I look down at him, before saying, “Maybe you should sit with me.”
His gaze narrows slightly, but he follows me to a leather sofa occupied by two soldiers. When we approach, they stand, making room where there wasn’t before. Eduardo sits, and I look around the room to watch the tens of men both sitting and standing in silence.
Showtime.
With a discreet nod to Braden, the screen lights up, and he moves to my side, kneeling by the sofa. Smiling, Braden leans in and whispers, “Thought I’d spice it up a bit, ya know? For entertainment’s sake.”
Before I can ask him what the hell he’s talking about, “Turn Down for What” by DJ Snake and Lil Jon blares through the speakers, shocking me as well as the men around me. Although I want to knock him the fuck out, it’s too late to turn back now, and with a clenched jaw, I let the video play.
Eduardo Castillo moves to object, but with a shake of my head and my hand firmly on his knee, his furious expression moves to watch the movie that will make grown men weep.
For the first twenty seconds of the song, Braden has made the video almost like a video clip for the song. Second long clips of Dino and Alejandra kissing in bed show up on the screen.
At the twenty-second mark, when the beat drops, the clips change dramatically.
Dino slapping Alejandra. Gio kicking her in the ribs. Ana gagging on Gio’s dick then vomiting all over the floor. Gio gripping her neck and rubbing her face into the puke. Dino tying Ana to the bed. A close up on Ana’s tear-streaked face. Gio fucking Ana roughly in the ass as Dino masturbates close by. A close up of Ana’s tortured features.
It goes on and on, and every short clip makes me want to shoot up this entire room, wanting nothing other than to destroy the sickness that lives inside the Gambino men.
A quick glance around the room shows the video has hit its mark. Men, hardened men, watch with their mouths gaping. They’re stunned.
Halfway through the song, the clips change, and Eduardo Castillo watches his son and heir, Miguel, be disemboweled by a trusted ally. Gio straddles Miguel and throws the hunting knife into him again and again, and he does this with a smile.
A choked scream sounds over the music, and without a single thought, I take the older man’s hand in mine and squeeze. My silent message to be strong. It’ll be over soon.
The end nears and I close my eyes, having seen enough.
At the crescendo of the song, as the music dims, I hear the sounds of grown men growling in anger and some sobbing like babies.
My eyes snap open, and I stand before anyone is able to react.
The Castillo family is barely holding it together, by a mere thread. The Gambino men have retreated away from the head of their family, hoping to blend into the background.
I hold up my hand in front of all the men, asking for silence, and when I get it, I train my eyes on a now pale Vito Gambino.
“Now, you ask yourself if you can still call what Alejandra Gambino did to her husband a punishable offense. You all called it murder at the time. I’m asking you now, how many of you still believe that?”
Not a single hand rises.
“I don’t know about you, but I would call Dino’s death self-defense on Alejandra’s part.” My voice hoarse, my anger begins to show. “This beautiful girl was thrust into marriage at eighteen-years-old. She was assured her husband was a good man, and when it turned out he wasn’t, she shut her mouth about it, because she was told—” I turn my stare to Castillo. “—that it was her burden to bare. That sacrifices were necessary for the sake of family.” My face pained, I hiss, “Six years she dealt with rape and torture. I ask you, is this how we’re treating our queens nowadays? Because I was taught we respected our women.” A moment of silence. “How did this happen? How did we leave one of ours feeling like she had no choice but to save herself?”
At my unforgiving words, Eduardo Castillo slides from the sofa to the ground onto his knees, his head lowered, body slumped, blubbering like a little baby.
The men remain silent, but more and more of the room venture to stand by Eduardo Castillo’s side in a show of support.
Vito Gambino stands
and tries to speak, but can’t seem to find the words. Finally, he manages a heartfelt, “My friend, my brother, I didn’t know. I… I…” he stutters. “I didn’t know. I swear it.”
Castillo stands, tears in his eyes, and spits, “Friend? You are no friend of mine. I am ashamed to be connected to you and your filth.” He begins to sob. “No more. It ends here. It was a mistake to see this through.” He sobers a moment, to get out, “I take full blame. As of this day, let it be known we are no longer indebted to each other, Gambino.”
Gambino pales further. He knows if he doesn’t get out of here now, he’s not leaving. Period. “Eduardo, I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry you feel that way.” He edges toward the door, but the entire room takes a single step closer to him, and some of Gambino’s men attempt to follow their retreating leader. The others know their fate and wait patiently for the ball to drop.
Two of Castillo’s men move to block Vito from the open doorway, and when he realizes he’s trapped, Vito blurts out, “Just ask Alejandra. She’ll tell you I didn’t know. I didn’t know!”
“I can’t do that,” I tell him. I reach into my pocket and retrieve the white rectangular jewelry box. I move to throw it at him, and he catches it.
Swallowing hard, Vito opens the box and, closing his eyes in disbelief, lowers the box, and the severed finger falls to the ground in the view of the entire room.
I reiterate my previous statement. “I can’t do that, Gambino, because your son got to her, and although I don’t want to believe it, deep inside I know she’s already dead.” If that didn’t hit him, this will. “He killed my wife, my wife whom I loved very much. On top of that, my partner is missing. The only thing I found of her was a pricey heel outside of her open and abandoned car. If you knew my partner, you’d know why that goddamn shoe is the reason I’m assuming she’s dead too.” I take a deep breath, and reply on an exhale, “I only had her for a second, old man, and he took her away from me.” My throat thickening with emotion, I tell them all, “She was finally happy with me. And, by God, she deserved to be.”