Cosa Nostra: A Steamy Mafia Romance (Kids of The District Book 3) by Nicci Harris (digital ebook reader txt) 📗

"Jimmy, it’s been too long." He greets Butch and then us, the gold in his teeth flashing as he smiles widely.

I size our company up, noting their skills, calculating our plan. Beside Marco is his twin brother, Paul. Both men are overweight, but they're strong. On the other side of Marco, with gold rings on his fingers and dense, curly, black chest hair visible between the V of his white shirt, is his right-hand man, Gabriele 'The Fist' Russo. He's been known to one punch men to death on several occasions, and I've often wondered how he would stack up against Butch.

As they all exchange pleasantries, catching up on the latest deals, business, and women, or in The Fist's case, boys, I slowly meander around the abattoir, leaving my brothers feigning engagement beside Butch. If Bronson had been the one to step away, the pricks might have suspected something. But I'm the uninterested Butcher. The one who appears bored at most meetings, and I know this because the greasy wops have said as much to my face.

"I suppose you heard what happened? Se?" Jimmy finally gets to the fucking point.

"-stolen on the road," Marco mutters with a tsk, and I move a little closer, still pretending to be preoccupied with my own thoughts.

"Se, I'm here to offer you some work. I need five good men to accompany my nephew Salvatore to India." Salvatore steps forward, pride on his smug face as he gets the first important job in his weasel existence. "That is where the product has landed."

Jimmy wants to keep us on the front line while important things are taking place in the District. While Clay works his way up into the spotlight, we need to keep things peaceful on the streets. It's what Butch wants too. To keep us all together in this city he has built alongside Jimmy. And it's what I want. I want to be close to her.

Peering over my shoulder, I see The Fist's lips twitch with a smirk and then it's gone. At that, I move behind them, making a fair amount of noise so they feel comfortable with my presence. Obvious. Unthreatening.

"Your boy still bored of shop talk, Luca? Or is he thinking about that cute, barely legal pussy he's been seen with lately?" Macro sneers, and I'm so very glad he does. Coming up behind him, I sling my garrotte wire over his head and pull him with me as I step backwards. I hear gun shots from Clay and Salvatore. See Bronson pull his Glock out and release bullet after bullet into The Fist's chest and cock. Am aware of Xander now holding Paul with a machete to his throat, forcing him watch as we destroy his firm.

Jimmy and Butch stand coolly and still, observing the chaos like fucking mafia kings.

The fat fuck flailing around in front of me howls, his hands clawing at the wire shredding his flesh. Blood drips over his glistening gold chains and slithers down his shirt like little snakes before splattering onto the floor.

Jimmy steps forward like the reaper himself, and I make certain not to kill Marco before he can hear what he has to say. "Have you ever had blood drained from your body before? I often give blood, I'm that type of man. But I've never been drained of it. I hear it's quite a spectacular sensation. Your heart rate becomes frantic. Head beats like a drum. You lose all senses. My pretty face will be the last one you see." He moves in closer. "If you tell me where they landed, I will give you one life."

I loosen the wire so he can speak. "Trichy," he manages to choke out between bile and blood.

Jimmy leans in and kisses Marco's forehead. "You'll only steal from the Family once." Then he straightens and nods at me. "Remove his head."

Marco lets out a loud howl, his back vibrating on my chest as I saw at his flesh, through his carotid artery, blood blanketing the both of us. He is silenced completely when I sever his vocal cords. I keep rocking the wire from side to side, slicing through muscles and tendons and vessels. I grit my teeth as what he said about Cassidy repeats in my mind. As I think about how he's probably beat one out fantasising about her small tits and petite physique, which, yes, to some, may appear barely legal - he likes them young.

My eyes see red.

I keep sawing.

Once I feel the wire snag on his spine, I drop his body like a sack of potatoes. I taste the fuck's blood in my mouth. Feel it sliding down my forehead and chin. This isn't usually my way. But after spending last night alone with only Cassidy's scent, I don't feel much like myself. So maybe I can compartmentalise like my brother can.

Maybe.

I look up from the bloodied mess as Paul wails with grief. In my peripherals, I can make out that most of his men are now merely bodies spread out around him. I pull out my gun and shoot between the flaps of Marco's neck, aiming for his exposed, crimson-coated spine.

I finish the job and walk the dripping head over to Paul. When I place it at his feet, the sliced and hacked neck flesh, gummy and wet, slaps the concrete, smearing a wing of blood in front of him.

Falling to his knees, Paul cradles the severed head of his twin as if it were a baby. We all stand by and allow him to grieve.

After a few minutes, his time is up.

"I gave him one life. You. And now, I'd like to offer you the same job," Jimmy says smoothly. "Five men. India. Get my product back."

Tears fall quickly from him. They don't make me roll my eyes; instead, for a moment, they make me glance away. Marco got off easy. Paul, on the other hand, will have to work alongside the very people who