Page 12 of Sadistic Retribution

“I did,” Frost responds, frowning. “No sign that he’s been there recently.”

“Fuck! We've got to find him.”

“Yeah, I’m worried,” Purge admits. “You know what he’s like when he’s lost in his head.”

While we’re thinking, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I quickly snatch it out, swiping the screen to see the notification. “It’s my father. Stay quiet!” I answer before it can ring again and inject pleasant neutrality into my voice. “Father.”

“Son, I trust that you and the others are well.”

“Yes, Father.”

“It’s time we plan your trips home. You've all completed your tasks wonderfully.”

Shit. I pause, trying to think of an excuse to hold off. “Well, Sir, I feel we all need some more time to scrub ourselves of the darkness.”

“Really? You do, hmmm? Do tell.”

“We’re restless after following through with the last order. We'd appreciate more time to get it out of our systems.”

“I'll give you boys two weeks to rid yourselves of your sins. I'll alert the other families, as well. But, Son—you WILL be coming home.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you.” I disconnect the call, sliding my phone back in my pocket. All our fathers are walking darkness, but we’ve all known that since we were kids.

My father, Joseph Franco, is the head of the Mafia. He was born and bred into this life, as was I. My grandfather was a meanson-of-a-bitch, without one ounce of warmth in his body. Lovely traits he passed on to his son.

Trikk's and Razor’s fathers are the other two Mafia families in our secret little group. Pauly Barbieri, Trikk’s father, is the nicest one out of them. Although he pimps out his son like a cheap whore. It leaves a nasty taste in my mouth that he’s been traded with older, married Mafia wives as soon as he hit puberty. I mean, he lost his damn virginity to an old crone. Gary Marino, Razor’s father, is a vicious fucker. He's ruthless, and takes violence to the extremes. Traits he’s passed on to his son.

The others’ fathers are Bratva. Vlad Volkov is Purge’s father. That man is as obsessed with religion and sin as mine is. Both Purge and I have been shoved in tiny spaces since we were kids. I developed claustrophobia, but somehow Purge is unaffected.

Niki Aslanov is Frost’s father. He is... peculiar. He’s infamous for the way he kills, but when he discovered his son was a true sociopath, he freaked the fuck out.

Lev Petrov is Ghost’s father. He’s sick and sadistic, chilling my blood whenever I have to spend any time with him. After seeing the girls in cages, Ghost became quieter and more withdrawn. His father honed him as a perfect, silent weapon. He taught him to be completely invisible.

As kids, we didn’t realize that it’s odd for Italians and Russians to mix—let alone work together. When we were teenagers, we got a taste of that wrongness.

We knew better than to question our fathers about it.

Synn Age 14

“Fuck you, suka!” Ghost yells, grinning as he chases me through the house.

“Kiss my ass, stronzo,” I yell back.

We’re alone in the house, our fathers busy with their ‘businesses’. The only time Ghost feels comfortable being loud is when they’re gone.

We haul ass by the office door, which is cracked open. I frown, knowing that’s not normal. I stop and poke my head in.

There's a mess of papers everywhere. My father’s desk, the floor. My father is neat as a pin—he would never make a mess like this.

I start sifting through the loose pages, looking for clues. Ghost joins me; where one of us goes, the other follows. We look through every page, attempting to assemble them back in order. I pick up a page, frowning at the content.

“Ghost, is this Russian?”

He takes it from me. “Yeah... that’s weird. Why would your father have a Russian document?” He scans it, face going white as he reads.

“What?” I ask impatiently.

“Um, it’s one big insult. Calling your father an Italian interloper, waste of space. It says he’ll spit on the Italians, that they’re trash.”