The Jock, The Nerd and The Geek

Epilogue (Part One)

What?

As he said those words, the door to his office opened as his padrino walked in with all of his glory, his hair now a light shade of green, looking happier than Paride had ever seen him. "Serpente? Ciccio mio."

Paris tried to stop his eye roll as he stood, "What are you doing here, Padrino?"

Paride Casio was known by many names, but his true name was Paris Holmes.

Two years ago, he had taken over as the new Don of Carnefecina, the Sicilian Mafia but his godfather, Alexander, still came to check on him from time, claiming he couldn't abandon his heritage to a child but anyone who knew the male could tell he only came to make sure Paris was still alive and well.

Before he had risen to the position of Don, he had continued his trainings under Xander. They were harsh and his possiblity of survival was very little, but it didn't matter. Il Pazzo was showing every single member of their Family that their new Don was not just a pretty face as he was, and bore every thing they needed for their Cosa nostra.

Plus, ever since Paris took hold of the Mafia, they had been significant changes. During the reign of Il Pazzo, he had occupied so many enemies and money that he had no idea what to do with it but after Paris took over, he smoothed out what ever he could do and got rid of whatever he didn't think was good enough for his Family.

And the bonus part? Paris was sane. Quite sane, at least but of course, Alexander wouldn't have just retired as any normal person would. During his breaks, he spread every possible rumour he could about Paris, calling him Serpente.

"Hmm?" The green haired male walked to the one on the chair, suddenly grabbing him by the chin, ignoring his cry of pain, his blue eyes staring daggers into his face before he turned to Paris, eyes in slits. "While is his tongue still intact?"

And this fact, was the origin of his name.

When Paris read his book in front of a person that refused to speak and then they eventually did talk, he would note the number that they usually decided to start their confession and punish them accordingly.

Some always started talking at the number fifteen which involved them being electrocuted. Few people, number two hundred and two, and mostly, they always ended at number five hundred and five.

Split their tongue in two.

The book had been a gift given to him by Alexander and Paris used to spend his free time after Alex had left in the basement with Andrea, reading the book silently until the male apologized for hurting Marcos, the apology happening at number five hundred and five and he had split his tongue, but the work had been rough so the male died of an infection.

His Padrino had been upset, not because of the death of his twin brother, but because Paris had not been careful enough to keep him alive to be an experiment for the torture book.

"He ended at lock up in a room with a hundred rats," Paris answered drily, his eyes still on the male. "Not like it is any of your concern."

Alexander made a fake hurt face though it didn't last long as he stood behind the chair, his hands now on the male's tensed shoulders, massaging it as he said, "But I heard about the little problem with him, and the fact that this—" He squeezed harder on the male's shoulders. "Lovely fellow, told another person."

"No! I didn't! He's—"

Paris raised a hand, one of his bodyguards immediately rushing to put a tape over the screaming male's mouth. How had he found out when they just did? "Don't you know what fucking retirement sounds like?"