Page 78 of Broken Mafia Prince
RAFFAELE
“There’s a mole in our ranks,” I say slowly, studying Tommaso’s reaction. If there’s anyone aware of someone betraying me, it’ll be him, whether it’s just a rumor or not.
His jaw clenches. “Boss, I?—”
“The next words out of your mouth better be the name of the bastard, Tommaso,” I say coldly. “Or you might just take his place.”
My right-hand man swallows. “There’s no evidence yet, but I’ve heard rumors that Bobby Morricone has been sneaking around,” he admits. “He disappears for extended amount of times and he’s been spending more than he’s worth.”
All clear signs that he’s been doing some extracurricular activities, but I can’t kill him based on rumors and his strange activities. For all I know, he could have made it big on the betting machine. But then again, Bobby isn’t the sort of person who wins the lottery and doesn’t tell the whole world about it.
“Where can I find Bobby right now?” I rise to my feet, buttoning my suit jacket.
“He’s downstairs, supervising the offload of liquor.”
“Tell him I want to speak to him, and make it clear that it’s urgent.” Before he can leave my office though, I stop him in his tracks. “Make sure he doesn’t get panicked and run scared. I want him as calm as possible.”
My right-hand man nods and slips out of the room. My mind shifts back to Giulia almost immediately. At this point, I’m used to her occupying every inch of my head, and I have also come to see that there is no use fighting it. The harder I try, the harder my mind brings up memories of her.
I’m snapped out of my reverie by my second’s voice. “He’s waiting in the basement, boss.”
I nod and march out of the room, Tommaso trailing after me. I nod in acknowledgment when I walk past the construction guys doing the finishing touches on the club. I can see my manager gesticulating wildly while speaking on his phone.
The basement room is accessed through a concealed staircase at the back. In fact, only people who know that there’s something back there can find it, because the door and walls lap together perfectly and fade into each other. I walk down the short metal staircase leading to the basement and find Bobby leaning against a side of the wall, sucking on a cigarette.
“Boss.” He straightens as soon as he sees me.
“Morricone.” I nod. “I’ve never seen a man look so relaxed this close to his death.”
Just like I expect, he stills, eyes going wide and swinging between me and Tommaso. “I-I d-don’t understand, boss. Death? I haven’t done anything.”
“Haven’t you?” I drawl, anger building inside me. On the outside though, I’m as cool as ice. Even though I feel like just firing a few rounds into his empty skull, I know that won’t help me.
Not only do I need to extract information from him, but I need to send a clear message that this is what happens whenyou try to go behind my back and fuck around. Giulia could have been seriously hurt last night, all because of one man’s greed. I can tolerate a lot of things, but selling out your honor isn’t one of them.
“I haven’t,” he says. “I’ll never betray this family.”
“Wouldn’t you?” I step forward.
Bobby swallows as I continue to walk forward until I’m standing right before him. I look him right in the eyes and give him his last chance to say the truth. “You’re not walking out of here alive, Morricone, but the next words out of your mouth determine if you die fast or excruciatingly slowly. So what’s it going to be?”
For a moment, I see defeat on his face, but he decides to be far stupider than I’d have ever thought. He raises his head high, looks me in the eye, and seals his fate.
“I haven’t betrayed you, boss. I’ll never betray you. I’m not a fuckingtraditore.”
I allow my mouth to curve into a smile. “You made your choice,” I tell him gravely then glance over my shoulder at my second, igniting the traitor’s desperate words. “Get me the briefcase.”
I’ve long since come to terms with the fact that there’s a part of me that’s just as sadistic as my father, or maybe more. The first time I watched my father torture a snitch half to death, I hadn’t felt disgusted or horrified; there was only the briefest flicker of impatience about the entire process. Now, my blood thrums in anticipation of the pain I’m about to inflict on this lying bastard, knowing that he deserves everything he’s about to get.
“Boss, I swear, I didn’t…” His complexion turns a little green at the contents of the torture briefcase.
“You have three seconds, Morricone.”
He swallows. A bead of sweat drips down his temple.
“The Syndicate! It was the Syndicate’s doing.”
I pause from where I’m pulling out clippers to start extracting his fingernails. I sigh, disappointed that he folded so easily.
