Page 222 of Vicious Intentions
But just because I understand the logic behind my father’s decision to keep such a detail from us doesn’t mean I condone it.
Still, it’s his advice that I need now.
“What would you do in my shoes?”
“You won’t like my answer, son.”
“Tell me anyway.”
He lets out an exhale, his shoulders slumping.
“A good boss needs to put the syndicate above his personal life and affections. Having said that, I’ve never put the Outfit ahead of my family. Not once. I would help my daughter in any way I could. But I’m not the Boss now, Marcello. You are. I know that the crown is heavy, but I also know you’ll make the right decision in the end. You’re a good man, son. I know that whatever you decide will be with your true family’s best interests at heart.”
“That isn’t very comforting, Dad,” I frown.
“There’s no room for comfort in this game. Only bloodshed. Just make sure the blood you spill isn’t your own or that of those who matter to you.”
He gets up from the couch and places a hand on my shoulder.
“Be a better king than I ever was, Marcello. You have it in you. You always have.”
And with that, he leaves me alone with my troubled thoughts.
After hours of restless contemplation, I know what must be done, even if it breaks my heart to do it.
Matteo must die.
Even if that means my sweet, kindhearted sister dies with him.
Luciano
“Are you sure about this?” I ask Marcello for the hundredth time as we both stare at the various computer screens in front of us.
“No,” he says flatly.
“Well, that’s not very reassuring,” I grumble, swinging my chair toward him.
“It’s not meant to be,” he mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose as if fighting a migraine.
Or maybe he’s fighting the little voice in his head.
Whatever.
All I care about right now is making sure Marcello doesn’t make a rash decision, one my entire family will have to live with the consequences of later.
“Maybe we should take a minute and really think this shit through.”
“I have, Lucky. This needs to happen. Now, have you and Enzo done everything I asked for?”
Fuck me.
“Yeah,” I mutter, my shoulders slumping. “Enzo and Alejandro already left. They’ll message me when they’re ready to go.”
“Good. That’s good,” he says, pacing the floor.
“Have you told Mamma yet?”
He shakes his head.
