Bound By The Past (Born in Blood Mafia Chronicles Book 7)
Bound By The Past: Part 5 – Chapter 2

I should have known Rocco would act. The moment I’d told him I wanted to capture Fabiano for questioning, he’d been tense.

Valentina had only just celebrated our eleventh anniversary when Giovanni showed up on my doorstep, looking completely flustered.

“What is it, Giovanni?” I asked as I crossed the lobby toward him. Gabby quickly moved back into the kitchen to give us privacy.

“One of Rocco’s men showed up in our outpost close to Kansas. He’s more dead than alive.”

Leonas hovered in the doorway to the living room, eyes wide and curious. I motioned for Giovanni to follow me into my office. I had a feeling this would be something I didn’t want to discuss in front of my son.

“One of the men Rocco sent to Vegas to capture Fabiano?”

Giovanni huffed. “Apparently, Rocco sent them over there with the clear orders to kill Fabiano and all the fucking Falcone brothers who were with him during one of those disgusting death fights.”

I stiffened. “That’s what he said?”

Giovanni grimaced. “He wrote it down. The Falcones let him live so he could deliver their message to us, to you that is. But they mauled his body pretty badly. Cut his tongue off and his goddamn ears. Broke pretty much every bone in his body he didn’t absolutely need and then delivered him on the doorstep of the outpost. The doctors aren’t sure he’s going to survive the inner bleeding.”

I turned my back on Giovanni, needing time to get control of myself. Rocco had gone against my direct orders. We’d discussed our plan several times. Capture not kill, and only when Fabiano was alone. The Falcone brothers weren’t supposed to be targeted to prevent a war with the Camorra. “What did he write down?”

Giovanni’s steps rang out then he showed me a photo of a bloody piece of paper on his phone. “That’s what I got.”

I took his phone and read the scrawl.

Dante,

I didn’t take you as a man who plays dirty.

Your flyspeck of a territory didn’t mean a fuck to me.

Until today. Attacking my territory? Trying to kill my brothers?

Nice move.

I hope you’ve prepared for war because I’m going to bring it to your door.

Playing dirty is my specialty and I’ll show you how it’s done right.

I’ll make you bleed in ways you never thought possible.

This will be so much fun.

Remo Falcone

“He’s a madman,” Giovanni said. “Causing his wrath will bring us trouble. I assume Rocco did this without your knowledge or did you change tactics without telling me?”

I gave him a look. I would have never made such a stupid move. Remo didn’t play by any rules and he was completely unreasonable. A madman like his father and even more deadly if rumors could be trusted.

“Rocco is a liability.”

“He is,” I agreed.

Giovanni regarded me calmly. “You’re going to remove him from his position?”

I smiled coldly. “Nobody but you and Pietro knew of the plan to capture Fabiano. I prefer it to stay this way.”

“Of course. My lips are sealed. And you know how Pietro is.”

Even if an attack on Las Vegas was pure madness, I’d rather my soldiers think I was behind the insane plane than have them know that my own fucking Consigliere went on his own vendetta.

“What are you going to do with Rocco? Kill him?”

“Not yet,” I said quietly. “Send Santino and Arturo out to capture him and bring him to our safehouse for interrogation.”

Giovanni paused. “What about his wife and the boys? How much are they supposed to know?”

“I doubt Maria will be sad to see him gone from her life. Don’t give her detailed information. This needs to stay within the inner circle.”

“You think he’d run if you called him in?”

I laughed bitterly. “Rocco is a master at self-preservation, and if he knows what’s good for him, he’ll run as far as his legs can carry him.”

Giovanni raised his phone to his ear. I moved to the window, shoving my hands into my pockets. I’d held onto Rocco for too long. In the past, many of his decisions had been very helpful but in recent years he’d become a liability like Giovanni had said. This would stop now.

I wouldn’t kill him, however. Not yet. There was a reason why we had the safehouse with its cell-like, soundproof rooms. They were designed to keep people caged for a long time. Rocco wouldn’t die for his crimes, he’d live as long as I deemed him of value, and I had a feeling that one day he might be.

I didn’t want to consider peace with the Famiglia, but if all failed a non-aggression pact might be the way to go. Offering Scuderi as a peace offering to Luca would be an option then. I hoped it would never come to it. Yet, no matter how much I hated Luca and wanted him dead, he was a man with values, not many, but the ones he had were ironclad. He was a family man like myself. Remo Falcone and his twisted brothers were little more than blood-thirsty, out-of-control monsters. There would be no peace with them as long as I took a breath.

“Do you want me to join you?”

I’d forgotten that Giovanni was still in the room with me. How long had I been lost in my thoughts? “Yes.”

“All right. Let me say hi to the kids and Val, and then we can head out.”

I gave another terse nod, glad to be alone for a bit. Maybe I had been holding on to certain traditions for too long. Luca had ditched many old structures when he’d taken over as Capo, had even made his brother Consigliere, instead of the man who was designated to have the position by tradition. He’d chosen absolute loyalty and gratefulness over family ties.

The Falcones too had killed many old Underbosses in their territories until only those remained who were as crazy as them and absolutely loyal.

The Outfit was based on continuity. Father always compared it to a clockwork. Every cog in the work had to mesh perfectly for the clock to run smoothly. I’d always considered continuity the only way to guarantee a smooth process. But a few of the old cogs were obviously broken and needed replacement. This would be a long process, a process that would be met with many dissenting voices, so I needed to be absolutely sure of the direction I wanted to take before I made anything official.

A knock sounded and the door opened. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Val. Her arms wrapped around me from behind, her cheek pressing against my shoulder blade. “Dad told me about the Rocco fiasco.”

I covered her hand with mine. “You told me to get rid of him.”

“I didn’t think he’d defy you like that. I only didn’t like him very much.”

“I stand by my choice. I think now that I’ll have to remove Rocco from his position you should become my Consigliere, Val.”

Val froze. I turned around so she was looking up at me. “You don’t know how happy this makes me, but I don’t think this is the right moment yet. Things will get worse before they get better, I can feel it.”

I shook my head. “I’ll do my best to keep the backlash from Rocco’s blunder to a minimum. Trying to negotiate with the Falcones at this point is useless, however.”

“Why don’t you ask my father to step in as Consigliere for now? He’s loyal to this family, to the Outfit, and he keeps a level head. He never lost his mind, even when the thing with Orazio happened. He’s sixty, so it’s an age many soldiers consider respectable for a Consigliere.”

I cupped her head. “That’s something I considered, and maybe I’ll ask him to step in until the Outfit is ready for you.”

Val smiled. “One day they’ll be ready. You’re going to lead us into a modern future. The Outfit needs to adapt to survive.”

I glanced at my watch, wondering if Arturo and Santino had captured Rocco by now. “Can you take care of Maria and her boys today? They might be shaken.”

“Of course, I’ll ask Enzo to drive me and Leonas over there. Anna is over at Bibi’s for a sleepover anyway, so she’s taken care of.” I kissed Val, grateful for having her. Over the years she’d been the rock in my life. She was the one person I could trust in any situation.

When Giovanni and I arrived at the safehouse, Santino’s black 1969 Chevrolet Camaro was already parked in front of it. He’d gotten the car for his eighteenth birthday from Enzo and pimped it ever since. Arturo’s station wagon was right beside it.

“Arturo’s got a strange sense of humor driving an old hearse as your Enforcer,” Giovanni muttered as we headed toward the doors of the warehouse. We had a safe house in several cities where we kept captives for questioning or ransom requests.

“I fear it’s more for practicability than humoristic purposes.”

The vast entrance hall of the warehouse was mostly empty, except for a dining table, mismatched chairs, and a couch with a TV so the guards could entertain themselves. The screens on the desk were black because we didn’t have any captives in the cells at the moment. Rocco sat on a chair, looking flustered, while Arturo perched on a chair right in front of him with a look of a cat trying not to devour the mouse. Rocco wasn’t in his usual suit but in slacks and a pullover, so they’d found him at home.

Santino lounged on the sofa but straightened when we entered. His similarities to Enzo were distant, but unmistakable. He walked up to me and shook my hand then Giovanni’s before he moved toward Rocco.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Rocco said with false bravado and pushed to his feet.

Santino shoved him back down into the chair. “You sit unless your Capo tells you otherwise.”

Arturo gave me a curt nod then focused on Rocco once more. Rocco pushed two fingers into his collar and tugged nervously then he looked at me. He didn’t quite meet my eyes. “Would you explain to me what’s going on?”

Giovanni snorted but Rocco’s eyes were on me.

A tight smile pulled at my mouth. “You really don’t know?” I moved toward him, noticing the fine sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the cold in the building.

Rocco’s eyes flitted to Santino who towered behind him then to Arturo who had barely blinked while he watched him. “Dante, this must be a misunderstanding.”

“Is it? So you didn’t tell your men to attack and kill Fabiano and the Falcones?”

Santino raised his dark brows. Arturo let out a small sound that might have been a laugh.

I stopped right in front of Rocco, forcing him to tilt his head back to look at me. “I gave you an order. It was clear and easy to understand. Capture Fabiano and bring him to me. And what did you do? You didn’t try to capture him. You tried to assassinate him.”

“I did what I thought was right,” he said, the hint of panic creeping into his voice. Maybe he was beginning to realize what this meant for him.

“You went against my orders! I told you to capture Fabiano, not start a shooting in Las Vegas.”

“It got out of control.”

“Don’t lie to me,” I growled. “You sent your men out to kill Fabiano because you wanted him dead. For God’s sake, Rocco, you attacked the Camorra. You shot at Remo Falcone and his brothers. That means open war with the Camorra!”

I had trouble controlling my rage but I wouldn’t lose it in front of my men. “I wonder why you were so eager to kill your son if not to prevent me from replaceing out whatever secret of yours he keeps.”

Rocco blanched. “We’re both good at keeping secrets, don’t you think? I’m not the only one who killed without his Capo’s orders.”

And I lost it. I clutched his throat, pressing my thumb into his Adam’s apple, making him choke. His eyes watered. I lowered my mouth to his ear. “You won’t say another word, or I’ll do with you what the Falcones did to your men. I’ll start with your tongue then move on to your ears. Arturo’s good at extracting eyes without killing the victim and Santino is very good at breaking bones, one after the other so the torture lasts as long as possible. But you know that, Rocco, don’t you? After all, you were my Consigliere.”

Rocco’s face flickered with fear. I released him and straightened, smoothing down my vest. “Take him into one of the rooms. I’ll need to chat with him.”

“Dante,” Rocco said pleadingly. “This is all a misunderstanding. I’ve always been loyal.”

“I think our understanding of loyal is very different, Rocco.”

Arturo pushed to his feet with an eager gleam in his eyes but I held up my hand.

“Let Santino handle this. I intend to keep Rocco alive for a long time until he can serve a better purpose than to become fish food.”

Arturo nodded but the disappointment was clear in his eyes.

Santino jerked Rocco to his feet and dragged him toward the underground cells. He was a tall boy—man, even taller than Enzo, and had no trouble keeping Rocco in check.

Giovanni sighed. “I’ll organize guards to do the shifts on Rocco. We can’t choose just anyone in case Rocco opens his big mouth.”

I gave a curt nod, then removed my jacket and thrust it over the sofa. Rolling up my sleeves, I moved toward the cell Santino had chosen for Rocco. Giovanni was close behind me.

Santino waited in front of the cell. “Do you want me to be present?”

“Wait outside for now. I’ll call you if I need you.”

Santino glanced at Rocco. “It must be strange dealing with someone you’ve known for so long.”

“It makes his betrayal all the worse,” I said only.