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Luca hated the fact that he had practically shut the door in Grace’s face. But, for the first time in his life, he felt guilty for what he was about to do, and listening to her scared pleas made him feel even guiltier.

He shook his head as if it would clear his wife’s begging from his thoughts. He had a job to do. He needed a clear mind.

The roads leading to the city warehouse were nearly empty aside from a few prostitutes coming out for the night’s work. Luca loved the city at night. There was something so serene about it, but he also knew there was a deadly beauty to the night that he couldn’t quite describe.

He began to come up with a game plan. If George Hanson were responsible for what happened to Nina, as he and his brothers were almost positive he was, he’d have to die tonight. The old woman that gave Grace the cigars would have to be punished as well. Tonight was going to be an eventful night.

Luca knew that Vince would want to kill the doctor, but he also knew that his brother was emotionally unstable tonight and that could lead to stupidity. That was something they couldn’t afford tonight. Luca knew the doctor wasn’t smart enough to come up with this alone, which meant he was useful for information before he was killed. Vincent might not take the time to wait for valuable answers.

As he pulled up to the warehouse, he saw his brothers were already waiting for him. Vincent seemed lost in his thoughts as he twisted a blade around his fingers. Russo was pacing with his hands in his pockets.

“Finally, you’re here,” Russo quipped at his little brother. Luca shot him a glare.

“I had some things to take care of. But I’m here now, so can we get going?”

Vincent turned his attention to his brothers.                               

“I want you two to go interrogate that neighbor of yours, Luca. Find out what you can, then dispose of her however you see fit. I’ll go find the doctor.” There was a crazed edge to Vincent’s voice that didn’t go unnoticed by his brothers. Russo was the one to step in.            

“Vince, I don’t think that’s a good idea. Maybe Luca and I should talk to the doctor,” he said, resting a hand on his big brother’s shoulder. “I know you’re upset, but we can’t afford any mistakes tonight.”

Vincent’s jaw clenched, but he knew his brothers were right.

“Fine, but don’t come back until the job’s done.” 

Luca stepped forward into Vincent’s line of sight.           

“Trust me, I’ll take care of it.”              

It was nearly midnight when they finally reached the small house on Walden Street. Russo had only been there once before, but he knew the route would be ingrained in his mind forever.

Neither brother had said anything on the way over. Every time Russo glanced over to the passenger seat, he saw Luca playing with his switchblade. In some perverse way, the sight made him smile. He didn’t know if it was out of regret or irony. That was the blade Vincent and him had given Luca the on his thirteenth birthday.

Russo remembered how excited Luca had been to receive the knife. He had so desperately wanted to be like his brothers and father, and in that moment he felt like he was.

If Russo had known that six years later, Luca would be using that knife to exact a violent revenge on his wife’s father, he wouldn’t have ever given it to him.

“We’re here.” Russo turned off the blaring headlights. 

Luca turned his head to look out at the quiet, suburban street.

“How do you know this is where he lives? I didn’t think you were here that night?” Luca asked, referring to the night his father almost shot the doctor.

Russo cleared his throat.

“I came here with Grace a couple weeks ago.” He was sure to keep his eyes averted.

If Luca had clenched his jaw any harder in that moment, he would have cracked teeth.

“You did what? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“She asked me not to. Are we gonna deal with this,” he motioned towards the house. “Or not?”

Luca let out a deep, controlled breath. He nodded.

“We’ll discuss this later."

Russo rapped his knuckles on the front door. The porch light turned on a moment later. As the door cracked open, the brothers got a look at the disheveled doctor.     

As quickly as George had opened the door, he tried to slam it shut. Russo stuck his foot in the gap.

“I don’t think so.”     

“W-what do you want? I’ll call the cops if you don’t leave.” Russo grinned at the fear in the man’s eyes.

“I told you, George. I’ve got some unfinished business with you.” His tone was calm and mocking. He pushed the door open further to reveal Luca standing to his right.

“I told you when I came back, I’d bring her husband. I’m a man of my word George.”

A look of horror flashed across the doctor’s features.

Luca shoved the door open all the way, and walked past the man to stand in the house’s small foyer.

“Evening, George. You know, I’ve put up with a hell of a lot of shit from you these past few months. You over dosed a buddy of mine, tried to crash my wedding, turn my wife against me, but this, this is takes the cake.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” George’s eyes never left his shoes.

“Oh, I think you do. I knew you were a son of a bitch and a coward, but I never pegged you as a murderer,” Russo spat.

“M-Murderer? Now I really have no idea what you are talking about.” Luca saw a sheen of sweat break out across the doctor’s forehead.

“Nina was pregnant. She lost the baby when she took a drag from one of the cigars you poisoned.”

George’s eyes went as wide as saucers as the realization hit him. He was surprised it hadn’t hit him sooner. After all, the men the poison was meant for were standing before him.

“A b-baby?”

Luca clapped a hard hand on George’s shoulder, pushing him towards the living area.

"You’re lucky we didn’t send Vincent after you. You’d be dead already. It was his baby you killed. And what would Grace say if she found out that her father was responsible for the death of her niece or nephew? ” Luca pushed him down into what used to be the man’s favorite chair, though after tonight he would burn it.

“You leave my little girl out of this! She did nothing to deserve to end up with the likes of you!”

George tried to stand up, only to be met with a strong fist to his gut.

“I don’t believe he told you that you could get up,” Russo quipped, throwing another punch to the side of the doctor’s face for good measure.

“She’s not your little girl any more. And if I’m not mistaken, you are the one that landed her in our marriage, a marriage that she is quite happy in, I might add.”

“Bastard,” George gritted.

Luca lowered himself into a squat directly in front of his father in law. Though the thought of any relation to the man left a bad taste in his mouth.

“George, I know you weren’t smart enough to come up with this plan by yourself. So, this is going to go one of two ways.” He held up his index finger. “One, you tell us who you are working with and why, and I’ll tell Russo not to kill you. Or,” he said, adding another digit, “two, you don’t comply, and we will use our own means of making you talk before I kill you.”

George spat in Luca’s face. “Go to hell.”

Russo laughed from where he stood off to the side, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“This is going to be fun.”

He came around, landing several well-placed punches to the aging man. One to the rib, another to the kidney. He even got in a lucky shot at the back of the head. Between the brothers’ beatings, George was a mess of blood and sweat lying in a heap on the floor. Russo still didn’t stop.

“Are you ready to talk yet?”


Another kick to the side.

“How do you know Gertrude Whitmore?”

The doctor gave no response.

A broken finger.

“Who are you working for?”

George hurt all over his body at this point. There was not a single spot on him that wasn’t in pain. It felt like fire to breathe. One of his eyes was swollen shut and the other wasn’t far behind. He was quiet.

He contemplated telling the Venzettos everything. At this point what did he have to lose, really? They would spare his life and end the onslaught of pain if he would only speak up. But something deep within him told him to stay silent.

Out of the corner of his good eye, the doctor saw the sole of Russo’s boot quickly approaching his face.


“Got something to say, old man?”

“I-it’s Peter.”

Hi Lovelies! Here is my next chapter. I wanted to ask you guys if
1.  You've figured out/ checked out my Spotify playlists.
2. Do you like the idea to have accompanying playlists, or is it silly? (either way, I won't be offended)

That's really all I've got for now.
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