An Offer You Can't Refuse, Sal Bianchi [free ebook reader .TXT] 📗

“Nick!” Alessandro yelled as I stood up and turned to leave his office. I didn’t turn around, but a moment later, I felt a tight grip around my forearm.

“Let go,” I growled as I turned to look at my brother.

“Tell me you’re going to quit this case,” he replied.

I twisted my arm out of his grasp roughly before responding.

“I don’t need you to protect me,” I hissed. “I’m not going to stop investigating. I don’t care how it affects the Family.”

I turned and stalked away before he could get another word in. Blood was rushing through my ears again as I quickly descended the stairs, and I wanted nothing more than to get back outside and feel that cool breeze again.

The bar had returned to normal by now, and most of the men seemed too engrossed in their own business to even notice me as I passed by. I was nearly at the door when a large, calloused hand reached out to shove me on the shoulder, nearly knocking me off balance in my haste to get outside.

“Did you have a nice chat with the boss?” Giovanni slurred as he wobbled unsteadily on his feet. He’d clearly had a few more since I’d gone upstairs to speak with Alessandro.

“Get out of my way.” I shoved him back. I wasn’t in any mood to deal with him right now.

He quickly moved to block my path again.

“What are you gonna do about it?” He jeered as he shoved me hard in the chest. Even drunk, he was several hundred pounds of muscle, and the blow knocked me a few feet backward.

He laughed, and a sense of rage so intense that I couldn’t think suddenly overcame me. Before I realized what I was doing, my hand flew to the switchblade I always kept in my pocket. I pulled it out and stabbed Giovanni twice in the stomach with quick, practiced movements. I hadn’t done that in a very long time, but at that moment, it was as if no time had passed since I’d last plunged a knife into someone’s body.

Giovanni crumpled onto the floor with a short grunt and a thud. One of the men standing nearby looked up in confusion, unaware of what had just happened. I’d moved so quickly that no one had seen the knife, not even Giovanni.

I stepped quickly past his body and toward the main entrance as more people began to get up and wander over to him. I could hear some of them talking and yelling behind me, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I walked on autopilot all the way back to my car. I felt oddly calm as I turned the ignition and set out, the lights of the bar fading into the darkness behind me.

The drive back to my office took longer, as I wasn’t speeding in and out of traffic anymore. Once I was back, I headed back inside and double-checked to make sure all the doors were locked before heading back into my bedroom. As I sat down heavily on my bed, I made a mental note to increase the security at both my home and my office. Franco had no trouble getting in, and after what I’d just done, I’d no doubt be in greater danger of being clipped in my sleep.

“Maybe I should find somewhere else to live,” I muttered to myself as I fell over onto my bed without bothering to change out of my work clothes. I hadn't been planning on shanking anyone when I headed down to the bar tonight, but there was no changing what had happened now.

I sat up straight as I suddenly recalled how I’d plunged my knife into Giovanni’s stomach without a second thought. Heck, I couldn’t remember even giving it a first thought. My body had just moved on its own.

My mind was telling me that I should feel guilty about having stabbed a man, but I didn't. Honestly, it had felt good, natural even. Frankly, Giovanni had been asking for it. For three years, everyone had been telling me that I was a mafioso and needed to start acting like one. Well, they were about to get their wish.

31

Nick

I’d never felt this hungry before. Sometimes, when I was craving a snack, I’d go up to my mom or Colletta and claim that I was “starving.” I’d never understood just how wrong I’d been then.

Real starvation didn’t just feel like a hollow stomach. It hurt. It sent alternating pangs of sharp and dull pain throughout my stomach until the idea of eating grass or dirt tempted me, just so I’d have something inside my stomach to stave off the pain for a little longer.

Of course, Alessandro always did his best to make sure I ate as much as possible. Anytime we’d come across a bit of food, he’d offer it to me first. He’d also wait until I felt satisfied before taking any of it for himself. I knew, too, that he often went hungry so that I’d be able to eat a little bit more. I tried as much as I could to share with him, but I was so young then that sometimes my selfish desire to feel full outweighed my desire to be a good brother. Alessandro never resented me for it, though.

It had been a few days since either of us had anything to eat, though. We’d already depleted the little money we’d brought with us when we ran away from home, and we hadn’t even made it out of Florida yet. Looking back, it was almost cute that a pair of twelve- and five-year-olds had ever thought they’d be able to survive on their own with nothing but a backpack full of snacks and a couple of hundred-dollar bills.

“Okay, do you remember what to do?” Alessandro asked me as we strolled casually through the aisles of a superstore somewhere on the outskirts of northern