05

*Mark’s P.O.V*

I speed back to my own house, pull up to the gate, and the guards let me in. I park my car in front of the main door and barge in.

« Son, » My father says, handing me a gun.

« What cell is he in ? » I ask, walking to the elevator with my father.

« Cella numero 17, piano inferiore. Vai tu stesso, ho bisogno di prendere accordi con Evan, » He says before walking away in the opposite direction.(Cell number 17, bottom floor. Go by yourself, I need to make some arrangements with Evan.)

I press the bottom floor and put in my key. This floor is exclusive and so we have to enter a special key to get down there. The elevator dings and I walk to the cells in the back. As I’m walking, the other prisoners kept cursing and screaming.

« Shut the fuck up ! » I yell back.

I tell the guards to take prisoner 1347 to the interrogation room.

Standing behind the one-way window, I feel a warm hand on my shoulder.

*Mateo’s P.O.V*

I set my arm on Mark’s shoulder. He grabs my arm to twist it, but I’m stronger than him so I don’t budge.

« Brother, » I say.

« You know, fuck you. Let me do something myself, » He says.

« But I’m your older brother, I have to look out for you, » I say, grabbing the gun for his hand, « I got this, bro. »

He flips me off as I walk into the room. I see a blonde man with a cut on his lip.

« Well, well, well. If it isn’t’Capo Mateo’ and all his glory, » The man says.

« Ricardo, » I say, pulling out the chair and sitting on it.

« That would be me, » The dumbass says.

« Well, I heard you tried to steal information, but you got caught, » I say, twirling the gun around my finger.

« No, I didn’t do that. »

I reach into my sock, pulling out my hidden pocket knife. Forcing his hand on the table, I stab right in the middle. He screams, but I start cutting off his fingers, one by one.

« Okay, okay ! I admit it ! I did it ! » He screams as I get to his pinky finger.

« Well, it’s fine. You can go, » I say. He looks at me with shock and a hint of horror.

« Really ? » He asks.

« No, you dipshit, » I say, grabbing the gun and pointing it at the center of his forehead.

« Listen, if you kill me, the Russians are gonna kill every single person you love in front of you. You don’t want that again, right ? »

Bam. I shot him in the middle of his eyes, right in his brain. I look at him and I notice a patch of ink on his arm. I roll up his sleeve and notice a Russian mafia tattoo.

I walk out and throw the gun back to Mark, whose eyes are wide open.

« Did you really have to cut off his fingers ? »

I grab the fingers and take them out of the bag, placing them on a linnen sheet. I grab a piece of paper and start writing.

From : The Italian Mafia

To : The Russian Mafia

I see that you have sent a man to gather information on us, again. Wrong move. Next time, I’m not gonna be this nice. I am a man of my word.

I fold the letter and place it in an envelope with the official Italian stamp on the back. I hand a letter to a guard and tell him to send it out for me. He nods and walks away with the letter.

I get out of the elevator and am greeted by the Italian mafia. I walk over to them at the 26 person dining table and shake each man’s hand and sit on my father’s right side.

« Mateo, cosa stavi facendo ? » Asks one of the men at the end of the table.(Mateo what were you doing ?)

« Quello che è successo ? » Asks a woman.(What happened ?)

I slam my fist against the table to silence all the incoming questions. « Ricardo ha cercato di rubarci informazioni da portare ai russi, » I say in perfect Italian.(Ricardo tried stealing information from us to take to the Russians.)

« Quindi quale fu la sua conseguenza ? » One of the men asks me. (What was his consequence ?)

« Gli ho tagliato le dita prima di sparargli in mezzo agli occhi e ho inviato le dita e la lettera ai russi ! » I say, looking over at my father, nodding his head.(I cut his fingers off before shooting him in the middle of his eyes, and I sent the cut off fingers and a letter to the Russians.)

« Mateo, » Says my Nonna entering the room. All the mafia men and women stand up as a sign of respect.

« Perché non hai lasciato che tuo fratello lo gestisse ? Mi stava piagnucolando come una cagna, » She says, waving her hand for everybody to sit down. (Why didn’t you let your brother handle it ? He was whining to me like a little bitch.)

« Was not, » Mark says, standing from his seat.

« Silence, » My father says in a stern voice. Everyone stopped talking and looked over at him.

« We will need to start getting supplies from our allies. That will take about 2 or 3 months. Also, we need to get some extra training, » My father says, starting to eat.

As I start to eat as well, my father whispers something in my ear, « Try finding some new recruiters. » I start eating again and started thinking about who I could recluta. Then it popped in my mind : A-