Episode 5

"They managed to get back to Boston. They escaped when I got caught," he said, but I didn't believe a single word that came out of his mouth.

It turns out that it would be impossible for them to have returned to Boston, every damn road had been intercepted by our police in order to find the invaders. They wouldn't be able to leave. They were in New York, and we just didn't know where or what their plans were. But Camilo had given us an edge by

confessing the names. It wouldn't be a shot in the dark anymore. Now, we had faces to chase.

I paced around the table, sighing audibly. It was a shame he had lied to me. I was going to give him a certain advantage in having a quick death, but my willingness to do so was gone in the blink of an eye.

"It was an honor to have your company, Camilo," I advised, before shoving his face back into the plate, sinking his nose into the bone meal on his fingers.

"Die already, I have to go get engaged."

"I snapped, checking the time on my Rolex."

Camilo struggled, trying to get up from the table to get his face off the plate, but he didn't have the strength to manage it. Unfortunately, he wouldn't suffocate, as there wasn't enough powder for that. Nor would he succeed in holding his breath for long, and he would be forced to sniff some more.

"It's your own body, man. Much cleaner than the cocaine you usually ingest."

He gurgled and trembled, then vomited on the table, wetting the powder with what was left in his stomach.

Satisfied with the slow, not-at-all honorable death, I drew the gun from its holster and fired at the top of his head. Blood and brain splattered across the table, mingling with the mess.

I stepped back and wiped my hands on my pants, analyzing my work of art.

"My work is done," I announced, returning the gun to its holster.

"Clean up this mess. Soon we'll have more men for my amusement."

I pulled on my sunglasses, covering my eyes, spun on my heels, and left the small interrogation room behind. It was time to put the damn collar around my neck, or Gilliam would have my brains smeared across the table just like Camilo's.

Carmen Moris. Time to meet my fiancee and future wife. Not that there was any excitement on my part, I knew the mob girls well enough to deduce what Carmen would be like. A good girl, of course, but she wouldn't be good company. I could never come home and talk about how my day was,

what torture I had picked for the time, because it would scare her, maybe even make her throw up.

There was no divorce in our world, Carmen was destined to be with me forever, just as I was destined never to leave her side. It didn't matter how incompatible we were, how much of an innocent and angelic girl she must be, while I was the devil incarnate. It just didn't matter.

I would have to keep my shit out of the house so as not to scare her. Like all mob girls, Carmen was raised to be a good wife and wonderful mother, educated and molded to perfection.

Guns, blood, and my demons wouldn't walk through the front door. That would scare her enough and make the marriage our own personal hell.

From the door in, I would try to be someone... compassionate.

I would wear a mask to hide the truth about who I was and what I did.

I didn't know how Enrico raised his daughter, how much he hid from her to preserve her, but I needed to find out. I just imagined he had raised her in a crystal bubble, like a true princess, oblivious to the cruel and perverse world we lived in. It was clear from the way he protected his daughter, avoiding taking her to mafia events.

I pushed open the shed doors and looked out at the garden of our residence, the great Venturelli mansion. I put my hands on my hips and spread my legs slightly.

Soon, I would leave this house behind. It wasn't right to share with Carmen the same house I shared with my brothers and Elisa. I couldn't control Gilliam or Nery from coming in bloody. Elisa was used to what we did, she didn't care, but Carmen... she did.

Damn, I didn't even know my fiancee, and she was already giving me a hell of a headache!

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