Ruthless Mafia 40

Icaro took a breath. “Go ahead. Say what you want to say. Get it off your chest.”
“You kill people together.”
“What else?”
“You drugged me with your cousin!”
“I drugged you. He brought it to me, but I did it. It was a leftover from a job I knew he still had on him.”
“Your own cousin stole your identity. I heard your father say the cousin’s brother also is a thief.”
“My aunt has a son named Fredo who recently fucked up. His father died when he was a baby. His mom remarried a
widower who had a son, Eddie, who you met this evening. When his father died when he was fifteen, Eddie blamed the
family, and he moved to America and denounced my aunt as his mother and wanted to leave the family. She still loves
him, but we gave him his wish and let him live. We keep tabs on him. We give him an allowance. We got him a job. He
repaid us by being a twat. He’s going to Italy to repay his bullshit.”
“Italy?”
“Yes. He likes America too much, so he’ll lose his privileges for travel. He’ll be expected to work the farm where my
mother and aunts reside. It is backbreaking work and, in the fields, many of which are on cliffsides, there is no cell
reception. He won’t be able to swindle women.”
“You’re not simply going to kill him?”
“He’ll wish he’s dead after a few months of hard labor considering how fucking soft he’s grown but no. He’s family. We
don’t kill family, even the ones we’re not really related to. Also, my aunt created the monster he is because and I can’t
say this enough, all of our mothers, every single one of them, spoil us rotten. They are very much spare the rod, spoil the
child kind of people. It the men in the family, our fathers who are the disciplinarians. I will tell you, my father is a scary
son of a bitch and I’ve seen him walk up to someone with a wide welcoming smile on his face and shank the guy. However, there has never, not a single moment in my life where I doubted his love for me as his son.”
“Why are you telling me all this?” she folded her arms angrily.
“Because, sweetheart, you need to understand, your family, the one you think is god-fearing and doing the bible’s justice
in the way they raised you, were not family. It’s a cult. It’s a group of people mindlessly following one man, not a god, a
man named Ippocrate Giannone. I am not a good man. I am not even a decent man. I’m the roughest-round-the-edges,
son of a bitch you’re ever going to meet. I’ll make you so angry you’ll want to cut my nuts off while I sleep. If my mother
isn’t pissed off at my father once a week, it’s a slow week for Dad. Yet as angry as we get with one another, as much as we yell, fight, scream and argue over shit, never, not ever would any of us intentionally cause one of our own pain. Family
don’t hurt family. La Famiglia is about protecting our own. We fuck up. We piss each other off. Family though loves each
other through it all.”
She blinked away a tear at her lashes, “la Famiglia?”
He used the back of his thumb and wiped the tear off her cheek, “yes. The Family. Our Family. It’s protection to be part of
our family.”
“And your cousin who isn’t really your cousin, you still protect him?”
“Yes. Family is for life.”
“You punched him,” she said as she recalled the events of the previous night.
“Yup. My cousin in Boston, Fredo, Vodingo laid a smackdown on him but at no time was his life in real danger despite
how much I could kill the fucker for stealing from his own family.”
“What was his punishment?”
Icaro gave a sheepish shrug, “we killed his girlfriend and two of his hookers in front of him.”
Zorah gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, “you killed three women?”
“Yes, because my dumbass cousin was being manipulated with pussy. He stole enough from us to get a fancy car but
every time he was distracted fucking Bunny, one of two other dancers were skimming the books. Three women were
running a scheme against the family. I don’t care if it’s a man or a woman. If you cross our family, you die. Fredo cried like
a baby while we killed the best pussy he ever fucked apparently.”
“What if she was his one?”
“We asked. She wasn’t. He did say though, she could crack walnuts with her cunt, it was so powerful.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“As disgusting as a priest hiding his erection under a pillow while he spanks his niece’s bare ass?”
“No.” she hung her head.
“Zorah, he needs to pay. You were made part of the Lucchesi family when we signed our blood oath with your family
twenty-one years ago. Your uncle and his family were given money to raise you. We paid your education, not him. You were given a monthly allowance from the time you were signed to us for clothing. Your sixteenth birthday, money for a
car was sent to you. Now we knew Giannone was keeping things quiet because he has to promote his vow of poverty as would the nuns, but you should have been given the basics, Zorah. I wondered for a long time why you were living in
such a shitty little apartment. They were supposed to tell you about us when you turned sixteen and they didn’t. You are
our family,” he motioned to the door closed behind him where the entire group of people were still seated, “and we
protect you. When my father finds out what has happened to you, he’s going to want blood. You are his daughter. You
are my wife. You are my mother’s child. You are Vodingo’s cousin. You are our family. We will get you vengeance.”
“But I don’t want it. Can’t we just forget and move forward?”
“Last night you were bashing your head off the floor screaming for death to escape any more violence. You need healing,
Zorah, and we’re going to get it for you.”
“But.”
“No buts.” He walked to the side of the bed and pulled the sheets back, “in. I want you to lay down. I’ll send Sidonia in
here to talk with you and keep you company while we discuss how this situation needs to be managed.”
Crawling into the blankets Zorah was confused as to why as scared as she felt, she also felt safe. The crazy juxtaposition
of emotions was nearly too much to handle.