Page 41 of A Touch of Fate

“Dante killed him even though he was set to become his Consigliere.”

My eyebrows shot up. “Why? Did he try to betray the Outfit?”

“Oh no. He was loyal to the bone and as sadistic as they come.”

I gave my father a look. We too held a certain sadistic streak, or we couldn’t do what our work required. Dad shook his head. “You don’t understand. He was sadistic to women too, and your mother was promised to him.”

“Oh,” I said, suddenly understanding. “And Dante saved her from that fate.”

“He did, and he convinced his old man to give your mother to me.”

“But that means Dante’s betrayal saved Mom and helped you too.”

“It did. I’ll forever be grateful for what he did. But you are my child, and I’ll always make sure you are protected, so I think it might be wise for you to learn more about Dante’s past.”

“Thanks, Dad. But I have no intention of bringing myself into another situation that requires blackmailing Dante.” I wasn’t even sure if that was still something I could blackmail him with. Dante’s power was solidified, and the Scuderis didn’t hold any power at the moment.

We got out of the car and entered the vast building through the steel door.

Inside the hall was split into different areas, one for martial arts and box fights, one for knife technique, and one for shooting, though that one was separated by noise barriers.

Then there was an area off to the side where recruits would be submitted to light torture to test their endurance.

This was where a recruit failed on occasion.

Most boys gathering in the hall for their evaluation today were fifteen or sixteen, but I caught sight of a few who looked a bit younger. Sometimes poor families of Italian descent hoped to earn money that way, but they didn’t know what price they had to pay first for money to start rolling in.

A hush fell over the boys and our soldiers as my father and I strode through the hall toward the back of the hall, where lockers and benches were situated.

There wasn’t a privacy screen, and the three boys about to change out of their day clothes looked intimidated as my father and I stopped beside them.

I gave them a nod. Then I shrugged out of my jacket and unbuttoned my shirt.

Of course, I could feel many of the boys throw me curious glances as I undressed down to my briefs.

My body was littered with scars, and I made sure I was ripped.

Dad did the same routinely. He too carried the scars of a man his position accumulated over the years.

When I was dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants, I headed toward Geno and two more soldiers who would help with the testing today.

I shook their hands, then motioned to the knife fight area. “I’ll start with the knife skills.”

“I’ll focus on shooting and questioning,” Father said.

“Will you join the questioning later too?” Geno asked me.

“Of course. But first, I’d like to get my heart rate up with some fighting.”

Geno chuckled. “Torture doesn’t have that effect on you after a while.”

“No,” I agreed.

I moved toward the mats where the knife fights were about to take place. There were also a few puppets to see the throwing technique of the boys. But I would get them tired before they could prove their aim. It was harder to hit a target if you were out of breath.

I noticed a tall boy whose face reminded me of Greco Senior, especially the square jaw. Unlike the other boys, he was by himself. He noticed my gaze and straightened. I motioned for him to come closer.

With a swallow I could see from afar, he pushed away from the wall and strode toward me under the scrutiny of his peers. “Fiorentino?” I asked louder than I usually would. I wasn’t sure how well he could hear me despite his hearing aids, and it was loud in the hall.

He nodded and gave me a hesitant smile.

“Why are you here?”

“To become a part of the Outfit,” he said without missing a beat, straightening even more. His speech was slightly off, but I had no trouble understanding him.

“I’ll test your fight skills first.”

He reached for his hearing aid.

“What are you doing?”

He flushed. “I want to take it off for the fight.”

I shook my head. “If this was a real fight, you’d need your hearing as an additional help against the enemy.”

“But it could fall off during fighting.”

“Of course, but until then, let’s use it to your advantage.”

The moment I began sparring with Fiorentino, it became apparent how determined and well-trained he was. There was still room for improvement, but he was better than many of the other boys here today.

I gave him a pleased nod as I pulled him to his feet after I’d thrown him to the ground. “Good work. Now show me your knife skills.”

His hands shook as he took the knife from me, but after a few deep breaths, they steadied, and he hit the target with his first throw.

When I was done with him, I motioned for the next recruit to step forward. Fiorentino moved on to the shooting area.

After an hour of testing fight skills, I moved on to the questioning. It was a crucial skill to protect secrets.

It was the turn of one of the boys who had shown lacking fight and knife skills. Despite this, he acted with utter confidence, even arrogance. He was the son of a Captain and probably considered himself above failure.

I nodded toward the chair in the center of this area, and he sank down on it with spread legs. “You know the rules. If you say stop, it equals breaking your vow of silence.”

“Got it.”

It didn’t take much for him to scream stop at the top of his lungs.

My knife had left the shallowest cut in his arm, nothing that should get any kind of sound out of him.

I tried a few other things, but it became apparent very quickly that he was incapable of tolerating a decent level of pain.

He was useless for our purposes. If he had shown promise during fight training or knife skills, I might have considered allowing him to move on, but as it was, he needed a few more months to harden up.

“Right now, you’re not ready to continue the initiation process.

Train with your father and come back in six months. ”

He staggered to his feet, his face turning red as he glanced around at the whispering recruits. “I’m already sixteen! I need to become a recruit.”

“Not with the skills or lack thereof that you displayed today,” I said simply. I didn’t like the challenging gleam in his eyes one bit.

He pointed at Fiorentino, who waited for his turn. “It’s not fair that someone like him becomes part of the Outfit, and I don’t.”

I grabbed him by the collar and glared down at him. “Then get a grip and stop bawling like a fucking pussy because I cut you.”

“It’s a stupid test.”

I shoved him to the ground. “If you can’t protect the Outfit’s secrets with your fucking blood, your fucking life, then you are not worthy of becoming a Made Man, understood?

You can’t even begin to understand how little pain you’ve experienced yet.

If you want to know real pain, then read the autopsy reports of the soldiers sent back from Camorra torture.

And now get out of my sight, or I’ll give you a real taste of what torture looks like. ”

The boy’s eyes grew wide. “My father will disinherit me if I don’t become a part of the Outfit!”

His father was Captain. His son had no chance of becoming one unless he improved drastically over the next months. Maybe one day, he could become a lowly soldier without any secrets to protect. “Then your father should have made you stronger.”

I looked down at his spiteful expression and hoped he’d keep whatever he wanted to say to himself. He scrambled to his feet. I turned to the next recruit. The boy spat in front of my feet. “At least I’m not fucking a cripple.”

“Oh shit,” Geno muttered.

I barely registered the unified intake of breaths as I lunged at the asshole. He had no chance against me as I slammed him to the ground. “Hold his tongue for me,” I snarled, overcome with utter rage. How dare he use that word?

Geno got down beside me, and with the help of another soldier, they extracted the boy’s tongue so I could cut off the tip. His eyes shot open as blood spurted out, and he screamed. He was lucky I didn’t rip his entire tongue out. This way, he could still speak.

I rose to my feet and stepped back, breathing harshly, then held out my knife toward one of the boys.

“Clean it.” He took it and dashed away toward the sinks.

“Remove this worthless piece of shit from here and tell everyone that I won’t tolerate anyone disrespecting my wife or using that fucking slur. ”

Geno and the other soldier yanked the boy to his feet and dragged him away.

Had he thought not being a Made Man and only sixteen would protect him?

I had tortured people younger than him. This world didn’t protect you only because you weren’t an adult by outside standards.

I would never allow anyone to talk about Emma that way.

“Mr. Mione, your knife,” a familiar, slightly slurred voice said. I glared at Fiorentino, still riled up, but he held my gaze until I took the knife. “Do you want to go next?”

Fiorentino swallowed but nodded. I motioned for him to move toward the chair so Geno, who was back, could shackle him to it. He had to step over the blood puddle on the floor that nobody had cleaned yet.

Dad stepped up to me, his expression unreadable. “Do you want me to take over?”

“Worried I’ll hurt them too much?”

Dad regarded me closely. He didn’t know I still had nightmares about Domenico. He stepped back. “I’ll return to the shooting range.”

I turned to Fiorentino. Unlike the asshole before him, he withstood the torture I subjected him to.

After two more recruits, I excused myself and went to the changing area.

I texted Renato and asked him if he had time to go out for drinks tonight.

I fucking needed to get shit-faced. Then I told Emma I had too much work to do to be home for dinner.

Dad joined me.

“If Emma asks Mom or you, I’m working late tonight.”

Dad’s expression tightened with disapproval. “But you’re not.”

“I’m heading out with Renato. I need to take my mind off things.”

“In one of Renato’s establishments?”

“I’m faithful to Emma, Dad, no need for that disappointed voice. I’m not a boy.”

“Are things going well?” Dad asked quietly.

I looked around with a frown. “They are.” Dad nodded, then returned to the recruits.

I took a small flask from my gym bag, briefly hesitated when I remembered Emma’s concern regarding my drinking habits, then took a few gulps from the vodka before I screwed the top back on and returned to the knife fight area.

Two recruits broke down under torture today, especially the first younger one…

what a day. I knew my night would be filled with familiar horrors if I didn’t manage to drink myself into a stupor.