Page 8 of Vanished in Vegas

Carlo Russo was another piece of work. He and my father grew up together. They were the best of friends, who shared common interests like taking baseball bats to people’s knees and making people swim with the fish.

“No. You didn’t stutter, Boss,” Carlo replied in his deep raspy voice. A lifetime of smoking had fucked his voicebox. Every time he talked, it made me cringe.

My father’s goons stared at Joey. A ray of emotions etched on their faces. Some looked at him with sympathy-filled eyes, while others looked at him in disgust. My father’s eyes however were locked on Joey like a hawk ready to destroy its prey.

“Do you not want to show your loyalty to me? Or perhaps you spit on the Romano name and the De Santis Family?” My father's words were cold as ice.

De Santis. Not a name to take lightly. If my father was bringing up their name then Joey had crossed more than just my father. De Santis was top of the food chain. The Boss. My father worked as his caporegime for an eternity. Joey’s name being on De Santis’s radar should put a fear of God into Joey. It was one thing to piss my father off. It was ten times worse to piss off De Santis.

“Never, Boss. My loyalty lies with you and the family,” Joey blurted. “I’ve been loyal for years. I’m no rat. I swear!”

“Watch your tone,” Carlo growled.

“Boss, I swear,” Joey said, not even acknowledging Carlo’s warning.

“Cut your fucking finger off to prove your loyalty before I have your fucking head cut off!” My father slammed his fists down onto the table. The table shook and the percussion echoed throughout the room. Several were startled in the room to include Rose, Arianna, and me.

“For fuck’s sake,” I muttered under my breath.Just let us fucking leave already.

“Here,” Carlo said, pushing a cigar cutter across the table to Joey.

Joey’s face drained of color. His eyes widened and he swallowed hard. He stared at the cigar cutter then looked at my father and back at the cigar cutter. I could see the wheels turning from where I stood.

Joey was going through every option possible. One, he makes a break for the door. That’d end with him tackled by Al and probably a broken neck upon impact. Two, he begged my father for another way to prove his loyalty. That option would make the most sense to most; however, this was a mafia, not theGirl’s Scouts.Joey trying to talk his way out of the situation would end in him being tortured for beinga rat.The option with the least consequences would be him cutting his damn finger off. As fucked up as that sounded.

Arianna and I glanced at each other. The look in her eye told me she was thinking of a way to get us out of the room. She didn't want any part of what was unfolding in front of us, either. If we were lucky, our mother would arrive home from wherever the hell she was. Our father didn't conduct the messy business when she was home. But the bastard had no problems showing the violence around his daughters. Just one more reason I hated him.

"Paulie, go get a tarp and machete," my father ordered, catching my attention.

"For crying out loud! It's just a fucking finger," Arianna shouted with no hint of nerves.

She stormed over to Joey, snatched the cigar cutter off the table with one hand, and grabbed Joey's with her other hand. She slipped his finger into the cigar cutter. All eyes were on her, including my father who grinned.

"Wh… what are you doing?" Joey stammered, looking up at her. She looked down at him emotionlessly.

"It's just a finger," she muttered seconds before Joey cried out in pain.

Arianna had squeezed the blade shut around Joey's finger. Sadly, she didn't have enough strength to cut his finger off so the blade struck the bone. Blood seeped out from under the metal. Tears filled Joey's eyes and silence filled the room.

"Finish it!" she demanded Joey, grabbing his other hand and placing it on the cigar cutter. "It's better than death."

Joey closed his eyes and nodded. A single tear slid down his cheek.

Snip,the sound the blades made as they struck each other and cut through the flesh and bone.

Joey cried out as his finger fell to the table. Blood sprayed from where his finger once was and the task was finally done. Or so he thought. I knew better.

Arianna's rash decision to help him cut off his finger had just made things worse for him. She was a woman. Men were supposed to be stronger than us frail women; however, she had grown a pair and been the one to cut his finger first. The finger wouldn't be the last thing Joey would lose today. Because he'd undoubtedly lose his life next.

"My little girl has no fear," my father said, making the other men, except Joey, laugh. "Paulie?"

"Yeah, Boss?" Paulie asked.

"Handle this weak piece of shit." My dad's words came out between clenched teeth. His eyes were narrowed in on Joey. Arianna tensed but said nothing. She simply walked back over to Rose and me.

I wanted to scold her for ending Joey's life; however, I know she had acted on emotions and not logic. Arianna was smarter than this. For her to act so impulsive, she must have something heavy weighing on her heart. Perhaps the wedding had gotten to her more. I thought she was just being a bitch to Rose and me, but the fact that maybe she was scared never crossed my mind.

I glanced over at Arianna. Her jaw was clenched. The look in her eyes was emotionless. She had drifted off to a different place to battle her emotions. A method she and I had been taught in E.C.M.P while attending the university in California.

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