Page 93 of The Mafia King's Reign
"What's going on, fellas?"
Elio falls into step beside me as we head toward the stairs. "We caught a rat."
"Explain."
" Vladimir." Nico's voice is flat, emotionless. "He's still been feeding information to the Volkov Family. We finally traced the leak."
The Russians. I should have known. They've been nipping at our territory for years, looking for any weakness to exploit. Not to mention, one of the families in New York tipped me off on a recent intrusion they had with a Greco.
"The shipment we lost last week?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
"Him." Elio's jaw tightens. "Two million, gone. Three of our men are in the hospital. All because this piece of shit decided to play both sides."
Rage flickers, cold and familiar. "Where is he?"
"The warehouse. Raffaele’s been... keeping him company."
We cross the compound. My mother hated violence in the main house or anywhere near it, so we built a workspace for these situations although Raffaele calls it a play place. It’s separate at the far edge of the property, deliberately isolated from the main house. It's where we handle the business that can't be conducted in boardrooms.
Once an enemy crosses the line and ends up on our compound, they know it’s over. Everyone knows it.
Inside, Vladimir is tied to a chair in the center of the concrete floor, his face already a mess of blood and bruises. Raffaele stands nearby, knuckles raw, expression bored.
"Boss." Raffaele nods as I approach. "He's been uncooperative."
Vladimir’s head lolls up when he hears my footsteps. His eyes widen with pure terror when he sees me.
"Mr. Vitale, please, I can explain."
"Can you?" I circle him slowly, my voice soft. That's always when I'm most dangerous, when I'm quiet. "Can you explain why you betrayed the family that fed you? Paid you? Protected you?"
"They threatened my sister’s life if I didn’t help them, you know what she’s been through, please. "
I stop in front of him, crouching down to his level. "We've had eyes on your sister. She's in Napoli, seems perfectly safe, living off the money you've been sending her from your payouts."
His face crumples. He knows he's out of options. “You should have talked to Raffaele when they approached; you know our family is strong.” I punch him in the gut, and blood gushes from his mouth. “But when you go and pull shit like this, it makes us look weak. Which makes us vulnerable. You know I’ve only run this kingdom for two years and the vultures want to see me fail. We both know that my brothers and I aren’t the sort of men who can, but as much as I don’t want to kill you, you leave me no fucking choice, you filthy fucking rat!” I say plunging into his guy again. “Sorry,” he says but it’s barely audible.
"Sorry, doesn’t fix betrayal and it doesn't bring back two million fucking dollars." I stand, straightening my cuffs. "Sorry doesn't un-break Romano's ribs, or bring him back from the fucking dead. Sorry doesn't fix the message you've sent to every other rat in our organization that betrayal is survivable."
I turn to Raffaele, "Finish it."
"Wait, no, please!" Vladimir strains against his bonds, chair legs scraping against concrete. "Mr. Vitale, I have information! I know things about the Volkov’s, their supply routes, their safe houses."
"Information you should have shared before it came to this. You were one of our top men, this is fucking disappointing." I start walking toward the door, but turn around to face Raffaele again. "Make it clean. Dump him somewhere, the Volkov’s will find him. Let them know what happens to people who take their money."
"No!"
The voice comes from behind me.
I freeze.
Valentina stands in the warehouse doorway, still in last night's dress, her face pale as she takes in the scene before her. Vladimir is bloody and beaten. My men with their weapons. The unmistakable smell of violence hangs in the air.
"Valentina." My voice comes out harshly intentionally; she shouldn’t be here. "Leave!"
"No. Look, you left your phone. Look at it.”
“She hands me my cell phone, and I’m now realizing I left it on the nightstand. That’s not like me to make such a rookie fucking mistake.
