Junior wasn’t ready to take the seat at the head of the Irish Mob. Not yet. He had to get over his addiction first, had to get married and have kids before he had the pressures of my position.
Before he had to become the most feared man in all of New York, he needed a woman who’d love him. A woman who’d understand him. Who’d accept him.
That clicked in my head like a light switch.
An arranged marriage wouldn’t suit my eldest.
He needed someone who’d take him as he was, and accept him as he morphed into the King of the Five Points.
As blood gushed when I tore off the duct tape, I stared at the wound, then I stuck my finger in it. He howled, but I ignored him until I felt his teeth then I pulled back before he could bite me.
Peering at the wound, I saw that Valentini cut all the way through and found myself more impressed than I should be.
Italians were all SOBs, but this one had mettle.
It took a strong man to face his opponent in the eye and to make such a personal cut. Having someone held down and beaten was one thing, but when you got your hands bloodied, that was the act of an honorable man.
I’d raised my boys that way.
They were willing to get dirty, willing to sully their hands and it meant that we had an army of men who’d been loyal to us. Until the Sparrows had come into being, that is, and as far as I knew, they’d been around since my own da’s reign.
"I want to know how the Sparrows work," I rasped as the Archbishop panted.
"I-I don’t know what you’re talking about," he slurred.
Hand snapping out, I dug my fingers into his nostrils and pushed his head back. As he yelped, I loomed over him, staring him straight in the eye and I said, "Don’t fuck me around. You ain’t seeing the light of day, so you can either make sure that your brothers rot in hell at your side or they can stay in the shadows until Lucifer brings them home."
The Archbishop whimpered as I pulled my fingers back then snapped his nose clean to the side. He graced me with another howl, then as I pressed the pliers to the broken cartilage, he yelped, "W-We’re just a group of men who help each other!"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "You are? Just a bunch of guys who help cover up sex trafficking and use law enforcement as a way of turning people to their side? Sounds like a real honorable cause, boys, doesn’t it?" I asked Junior and Finn, not expecting an answer and not getting one either.
"I don’t know anything about that!" he squeaked.
"I’m sure. There’s been rumors about you for years. I thought it was bullshit. How could the Archbishop be fucking gay? Is that how they got you? Caught you with your pants down?" I sneered at him. "How does the hierarchy work?"
"I-I don’t know," he squealed, then he screamed himself hoarse when I twisted his nose the other way.
"Don’t fucking lie to me."
"I’m not," he screamed. "Nobody knows! We don’t get together. We don’t meet. We never see each other, just know that if we’re called on our phones, it’s a conversation regarding business for the NWS."
I squinted at him, at the hint of truth I heard in his voice, but I turned to my boys and asked, "What do you think? Is he lying?"
"I’m not!" he shrieked. "I’m not, I swear it! P-P-Please don’t kill me. P-P-Please! I swear, I won’t tell the cops—"
Laughter barked from me as I loomed over him again. "You bet your ass you won’t tell them." I smirked. "Of course, you don’t mind having your ass played with, do you? Maybe you want to go to jail? Maybe we’ll find a nice big motherfucker who’ll make you his bitch. Get you hooked on Big Daddy cock until your asshole’s bigger than the craters on the fucking moon—"
"I swear, I didn’t do anything," he yelled, "I just facilitated meetings when they requested them, put people in contact—"
"What kinds of meetings? Who did you put in contact?"
"I don’t know. I just arranged for hotel rooms and made sure restaurants were booked for private events."
"You mean to tell me they treated you like a fucking concierge?"
He swallowed, something shifting in his eyes that told me he’d just given me a semi truth. Semis didn’t work for me.
Wandering over to the wall of tools, I found a blow torch, then as I returned to his side, I knocked him so he was on his back, feet raised. I clicked the blow torch on and pressed the flame to his heel.