Repaying the Mafia’s Dept

Tristan Present day… The doors to the interrogation chamber crash open, slamming against the walls.

Viktor and Aiden drag in a lanky looking man with a goatee and a blood splattered shirt. His face is all messed up and he’s begging for mercy.

Motherfucker. He’s wasting his breath. Mercy is a thing no one in this room will show him.

Tonight is a night of reckoning. A night for answers and for our enemies to answer for their crimes.

Eighteen months ago, every man in this room lost a father when the Syndicate of the Brotherhood was bombed in a secret plot to eliminate them.

Massimo is all that remains. One solitary man who got to keep the wealth of a secret society of crime families who were once deemed a force to be reckoned with. Massimo was initiated when our father made him boss of the D’Agostino famiglia.

My brother was the only one to survive the bombing, and the only reason he survived was because of other secret plots at work instigated by Ricardo Balesteri. My family’s enemy.

In a bid to get the wealth of the Syndicate Ricardo betrayed them and formed an alliance with Vlad Kuznetsov, Mortimer’s right hand man in the Circle of Shadows. They were the only people strong enough to take them on. We thought they were solely to blame for the bombing until we got an anonymous letter letting us know there were more people responsible. Our quest for vengeance as a group began then.

For me, however, it went deeper than that because I suspected more involvement in relation to Mortimer Viggo. I was well versed in how he worked from years back when I tried to get revenge for my Alyssa.

It was Vlad who killed Alyssa. Him who did everything abominable to my girl before he cut her head off and sent it to me in a box, but Mortimer sent him to kill her. I killed Vlad, but I’m still seeking my revenge on Mortimer.

Vlad orchestrated the plot with Riccardo to take out the Syndicate, but we knew the presence of any Shadow member could only arise if Mortimer sanctioned it. We have no idea who else was involved but I knew getting answers would start with him.

This fucker here is the first stroke of luck we’ve had in all that time. A fucking spy.

“This motherfucker is the one with the answers. Playing sides, filthy scum,” Viktor shouts, his voice heavy with a Russian accent.

Viktor became boss of the Romanov family with his father’s passing, Aiden is his brother. They are part of the Bratva. Their father like ours was a member of the Syndicate.

“This piece of shit made the bomb that killed our fathers,” Aiden adds, hustling the man along.

I rivet my gaze to the man in their arms. It was he who made the bomb. That knowledge just put the ink on his death certificate.

Massimo and Dominic move out of the way as Viktor drags the man over to the wall and Aiden secures his wrists with chains. They both then step aside allowing Massimo to takeover, showing their respect for his leadership and authority here.

“Name?” Massimo demands.

“Wilson Parker,” Viktor replies.

“Details?”

“Age twenty-nine, resident of Summer Heights. He’s an ex-army bomb disposal officer and a computer hacker. For our purposes he’s the guy who Mortimer Viggo commissioned to not only make the bomb that killed our fathers, but he also hacked the systems in the Syndicate building to make it possible. He’s been working with Mortimer Viggo for a very long time.”

There it is.

There it all fucking is. A taste of what I suspected.

Mortimer Viggo had more involvement than what we thought. When we got that letter, he was the first person who sprung to my mind.

Now we know Vlad and Ricardo were just puppets. The master controlling the strings was always Mortimer.

Just like six years ago.

Massimo looks to me and Dominic cracks his knuckles. They both know I have a personal stake in this because of Alyssa.

“Permission to speak brother?” I ask Massimo, reaching for my knife in my back pocket.

“Granted,” Massimo replies.

I step right up to Wilson and he shudders at the sight of me.

“Please… spare me. They’ll kill me if I talk,” Wilson sputters. One of his teeth falls to the ground and I frown at the sight of it.

“Shut up,” I shout. My voice carries across the room, echoing off the walls. “What do you think we’re going to do to you?”

I can’t stand idiots like this. The ones who believe we’re just going to question them and let them go.

“Please I beg you. You already have a name. Isn’t it enough?”

“It’s enough when I say it’s enough,” I inform him. “Tell us everything. I want to know everything Mortimer Viggo did.”

“There’s … too much,” he mutters.

Too much? Jesus… I wonder when too much is truly too much.

The type of sins and secrets that have shaken my family since this shit began were the kind no man would ever forget. They were the kind to change a person forever. Inside and out. I watched the change occur in my brothers almost by the second. That change already came for me when Alyssa was killed.

Everything that has happened gave us a rude awakening no one could foresee. And it all went down in one afternoon. Everything.

Not only was the Syndicate bombed but the proverbial closet door opened, and all the skeletons fell out whispering secrets on their lips, holding daggers in their hands ready to kill and claim.

In that afternoon we lost Pa. The bomb injured him, but it was Ricardo’s bullet to his head that ended him. We also learned the same devil killed our mother nearly twenty years ago, and made it look like a suicide.

Then we lost Andreas, our eldest brother. I think of everything that happened his actions cut me deepest. I always suspected if anyone were to go rogue it would be him. He did.

When Pa chose Massimo to be boss of the family, Andreas sided with Ricardo to destroy us. All an attempt to take the D’Agostino empire for himself.

All of that shit is what you call too much, and there was more. Those were just the worst parts of the disaster.

I get right up in Wilson’s face and make sure the fucker can see just how serious I am. I want him to see the real me, see I’m a man with nothing left to lose.

Men like me have no souls; they know no boundaries. All that fuels me is vengeance and the thirst for blood to sate the revenge that consumes my every thought.

I want him to see that and know I’m not a man to fuck with. As I stare him down understanding forms in his eyes. It comes along with terror when I raise my knife. I’m not so sure he’s scared enough yet though, so I’m going to have to take things up a notch.

“Wilson… I don’t know who you’re used to dealing with but now isn’t the time for shit. This is the only warning you will get from me. Talk, or I will kill you slowly. Don’t talk and it will be slower, agonizing, excruciating pain. The type where you will beg me to end you.” I smile and his eyes widen.

Just as I preempted though he keeps his silence.

I look to Massimo for more permission to act and he nods. On his approval, I ram my knife into Wilson’s shoulder. That won’t kill him, but it will cause enough pain to make the fucker cry. It certainly does.

He howls with pain and starts bawling his eyes out. He then proceeds with more pleas, begging for mercy.

“You fool, stop it. Stop asking for mercy,” I roar. “Why should we show you any? You made the fucking bomb.”

I yank my knife from his shoulder and stab him in the right side. The scream that rips from his lips pierces through me, and again when I push the knife in further and metal scrapes against bone.

“Stop! Please…” he cries.

Looks like we’re getting somewhere. “Ready to talk? Or should I start chopping off limbs?”

He says nothing. I already came in with no patience, so his silence just makes me snap. I pull my gun and shoot him in the top of his thigh. This time when he screams it’s like death has come to take him. I’m hoping that will be enough persuasion. If I do any more damage, he might not be any good to us.

I cock the hammer on the gun again and he screams once more.

“No. Please. I’ll talk. I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Go ahead. The floor’s open. We’re oh so eager to hear what you have to say,” I taunt.

“Mortimer agreed to work with Riccardo Balesteri when he told him your father had liaisons in motion with the Russian and Italian government. It was for the Syndicate to take over various business contracts,” he explains in a weak voice. I ball my fists at the mention of my father.

I knew there was going to be more shit I wouldn’t like.

“Go on,” I encourage.

“It would have meant more wealth, control, and power for the Brotherhood. Control over resources the criminal underground thrive on. Owning the oil company made your father the wealthiest in the Syndicate, so the heads of government agreed to sign over contracts with him. He planned to pass on the ownership to the Syndicate to be shared as a group. Mortimer has always been looking for a way to eradicate the Syndicate. He wanted them wiped out, but he wanted your father dead because without him the contracts would be void.”

I have to look to Massimo for strength because I just got confirmation that Mortimer ordered the death of someone else who was important to me. My father.

Massimo can’t look at me though. He’s glaring at Wilson. So is Dominic.

I turn my attention back to Wilson and try to keep my cool. I want to find out everything there is to know. Then I’ll kill him. Blow his head off and hope it will feel comparable to being blown to smithereens.

“What else is there?” I demand. “There must be more. I don’t care who you are. Ex-army officer, or fucking tech god. You had to have help to pull off such a stunt.”

“Riccardo wasn’t the only member of the Syndicate who turned on them,” he rasps. “There were five other groups involved in Mortimer’s plan.”

Jesus Christ. I did suspect that too. Damn it, I hate being right. When I heard what happened I figured such a plot would only make sense if someone else was helping all of them. And the fucking culprits has to be people we know.

The Syndicate was made up of six families. Four Italian families and two Bratva.

Since it can’t be Ricardo’s family, the D’Agostinos, or the Romanovs. That leaves the others.

“Who are they? Give me names,” I demand.

“I just know of the V olkovs, but Ricardo double crossed them.”

My blood heats and I can feel the tension rippling off everyone around me.

Massimo was contemplating contacting them to reform the Syndicate. Hearing this makes me see people really can’t be trusted.

“What about the others?”

“I don’t know the names of the others. I just know the contracts your father signed was the thing to put the wheels in motion to get everyone together. ” “You don’t know any more names!” Massimo shouts.

“No. I heard mention of Italians. No names though.”

The Mazzones were the only other Italian family in the Syndicate. But he hasn’t given their names.

It might be them, or might not be.

“Kruv’ omerta,” he mutters and my nerves spike at the mention of those words. “I heard that said a few times.”

I narrow my eyes and glance at Massimo. Kruv’ omerta is a secret blood oath for the vow of silence formed between a member of the Bratva and a person from La Costa Nostra.

It’s a rare oath. In all my thirty years I’ve only ever heard of the oath in passing perhaps twice. It’s not something that’s widely practiced because it’s a serious oath that binds those who have taken it until death.

“Who did you hear say that?” I ask.

“Mortimer.” Wilson looks to Massimo then back to me. “I don’t know anything else. That’s all.

The people who got together wanted to tear down the Syndicate. The plan failed when Riccardo died.

They thought he would be the last member. He was supposed to be an asset to them with all the wealth he would have inherited from the Syndicate. As long as the Syndicate exists and it’s out of their control you will always have those enemies lying in wait for the next chance.”

It seems like he’s given us everything he can, and it is too much. Too much to process because it means eighteen months ago was just the tip of the shit. There’s more to discover, more things we need answers for.

“And you? What did you do?” Massimo asks. I can tell from the tone in his voice death is next in the cards. “You made the bomb, how’d you get it in?”

“The V olkovs helped me. I liaised with them on when I should detonate it.”

Massimo stares at him long and hard. A few seconds of silence pass between them. A few seconds of nothingness, with the silence pregnant in the air.

“Is there anything else?” I check, cutting in.

“No,” Wilson answers.

I flick my gun to end him, but another bullet steals the moment from me and lands right between his eyes. Blood splatters everywhere and Wilson’s body goes limp.

I turn to see Massimo with his gun raised, finger still on the trigger. He pulled his gun so fast I never saw it coming.

“He was my kill. After all, his bomb was meant to kill me too. I should have died that day, but I’m still standing. His life was mine to take,” Massimo says. “Pa died in my arms…” His voice trails off.

He doesn’t need to say anything more.

Massimo’s jaw stiffens and I can tell he’s trying to hold in the rage. The same as me. Dominic doesn’t say anything. Again, he’s quiet, unusually quiet and I feel like it’s too much for him. There’s only so much a person can take, and he hasn’t been himself since everything when to hell.

“What now?” Viktor asks after a few moments.

We look to him and I don’t actually have an answer for him. I don’t think Massimo does either. We knew Mortimer was involved but now we know more details and we have no way to find him.

That’s old news and to add to the shit of that, no one has ever seen his face.

I’ve been chasing a faceless villain for the last six years and I don’t know if I’ve ever been close to finding him. Nobody knows what Mortimer Viggo actually looks like. They just know his name, and usually if you get to hear that name you won’t live past the next minute to remember it.

“I’ll keep looking,” Dominic promises. There’s a menace of darkness in his eyes I don’t like. It’s okay for me to cross to the dark side, but not my little brother. However, I know if anyone can find anything at all it’s gonna be him.

“What about us?” Viktor asks, staring at Massimo. “I think we’ve proven you can trust us. We want in on the reformation of the Syndicate if that’s what you still want. We’ll be stronger together when it comes down to it.”

Massimo nods his agreement. “Yes. We’ll meet and discuss the next steps. We have much to consider.”

Nothing is truer than that.

I walk into Massimo’s office at D’Agostinos Inc. and gaze at him standing by the floor to ceiling windows talking to Alfonse Belmond.

Alfonse was my father’s Pa. They knew each other in Italy when they were boys, and continued being friends. That made him like a second father to us. He trained us to do everything here at D’Agostinos Inc.

He looks like he’s giving Massimo one of his pep talks. Something I’m sure my brother could use.

One seeing me walk in Alfonse rests a reassuring hand on Massimo’s shoulder and walks toward me.

He gives me a stern expression when he stops before me. He’s aware we had a rough night last night and looks extra worried about us. None of us would have given him details but it’s obvious we went through shit. He also knows about our quest. It was kind of difficult to hide a thing like that away from him.

“You boys take it easy today,” he cautions. “Your father was always saying to take rest when you need to regroup. You need to do that today. The two of you have the same haggard look.”

“Don’t worry we will take some time out today,” I assure him.

“All right. call me if you need me.” He saunters away and I continue my procession to Massimo.

We have a meeting with one of our investors in an hour. Massimo wanted to see us first so we could talk. Dominic should be here soon. I’m just early.

He turns to me as I approach, and I see he has a piece a paper in his hands.

“What’s that?” I ask.

“The letter,” he answers with a smirk. “Wish I knew who it was from.”

Massimo got that letter seven months after the Syndicate was bombed.

I put my hand out to take it. I’ve read it a hundred times already and each time I keep trying to figure out who it could be from. It’s not going to hurt to read it again, so I do:

Dear Massimo, Y ou do not know me. But I know you, and I feel compelled to contact you in light of the information I’ve recently discovered.

There was so much more to what happened seven months ago when the Syndicate was obliterated.

There were more people involved than who you think. So many more who were responsible for the deaths of our loved ones. So many got their hands dirty to end our fathers.

Riccardo Balesteri was just a pawn in a bigger game to eradicate enemies. I urge you not to stand alone but to reform the Syndicate and lead. Be a leader.

It is only with the strongest alliances that you will be able to hunt your enemies, or war will come.

Good luck.

A friend I pull in a sigh, hand the letter back to him, and shake my head. I still have no idea who the fuck it could be from, but after last night reading it feels different to me.

This guy knew what was going on.

“He knows who the culprits are,” I state and Massimo nods. “He knew what Mortimer did and why.”

“Yeah. I just wish I knew who he was and why the fuck he couldn’t have just come out with whatever he knows.”

“And now we have the other groups to worry about,” I add. “Five more of them.”

“Five more groups, and there was what Wilson said about Italians,” he narrows his eyes and shakes his head. “It’s like talking in riddles. I don’t know if that means the Mazzones, or if the other groups were Italians. I don’t know if the kruv’ omerta was formed amongst the group or if it was one person.”

I sigh and bring my hand to my head. There’s too much to think about and everything feels jumbled when you just have pieces of the puzzle and parts are missing. You don’t know what fits where and what doesn’t.

“Usually the kruv’ omerta is formed with one person, but there’s nothing that prevents it from being formed with more people. It’s just rare Massimo. It requires more than just an alliance. It’s a promise to the death, a promise for life.” It’s a mystery, and if I’m honest that part doesn’t make sense, but then nothing has since our world turned upside down.

“You know what Tristan? I’ve been standing here and I may as well have been scratching my ass because I don’t know shit. I don’t know where to begin to unravel anything. All I know is this, if there’s mention of Italians we’re going to have to assume the Mazzones were involved and are as guilty as the V olkovs. That’s half of the fucking Syndicate.”

Pointing it out like that highlights the gravity of the shit. “No wonder things went the way they did.”

“Exactly. What happened eighteen months ago was an eye opener. Shit happened because potentially half of them were playing sides. Even if it was just Ricardo and the V olkovs, it’s enough.

Because of that, those who remained loyal couldn’t do anything to protect themselves. Everything was based on wealth. Money counted for nothing in the end. It couldn’t help them then and money won’t help us now.”

He’s fucking right. The Syndicate was largely based on wealth. They thought unlimited wealth gave them power. It did to some extent. Until someone found a way to turn it against them.

It was the same damn thing when it came to our losses. The D’Agostino family is a powerful family. No one can just take us down like that, especially not with Massimo at the lead and me and Dominic at his side. The only way to get to men like us is to try and turn the people we trust against us. Since trust doesn’t come easy, making a guy we trust double cross us is like tying us up to beat us.

That is the only way to get to us and our enemies know that. Mortimer knows that.

“What do you suggest?” I ask.

“I agreed we should reform the Syndicate from the moment I got the letter. Being told to hunt my enemies or war will come was enough to make me want the alliance a syndicate would have. But I’ve taken my time to consider who I want to involve because while I want to keep the structure and the concept the same, I don’t want the same problems so the same shit can happen in the future. I think I can finally make a start at rebuilding, but I’m continuing the hunt. Mortimer is at the top of the list.”

“You know I fully support you. I’ve never stopped looking for that man.”

“I know.”

“If we get Mortimer, it will be a big win. If we get the rest of these bastards then I think I’ll look to reforming the Syndicate with the same vision Pa had for strength.”

I nod my agreement.

We grew up poor, living in shit because Riccardo Balesteri made sure our father lost everything.

Pa rebuilt and gave us a legacy with D’Agostino Inc. He took one step further and allied himself with the Syndicate to protect what we had and make us stronger. We can do that too.

The door burst open and Dominic rushes in carrying a wad of papers.

“Guys,” he says breathlessly. “I found something.”

“What?” I stare at him eagerly.

He moves over to Massimo’s desk and sets out the papers. We follow and look over them as he spaces them out.

One looks like a transfer of property deed and the rest are listings of addresses and photos of a young woman with white blonde hair and bright green eyes. Instantly she catches my attention because she’s very beautiful.

“Look, here,” Dominic points to the deed and I see exactly what he’s pointing to.

It’s Mortimer’s name transferring a house in Moscow to Isabella Viggo.

“Isabella Viggo?” I ask narrowing my eyes, and Dominic nods.

He then points to another set of documents that lists Isabella Viggo’s relation to Mortimer as his daughter.

Fuck…The man has a daughter.

The realization hits me and Massimo at the same time and we look at each other.

“Mortimer has a daughter,” I state and grit my teeth.

“Correction brother, Mortimer has a daughter only a select few know about,” Dominic intones.

“That house in Moscow is empty but I found an address in Rhode Island for the point of contact. The woman who lives there, however, is this lady: Isabella Baker. She’s twenty-two and works at the Ridgewood Clinic as an assistant therapist.”

I sigh. “Same first name, there’s every reason to hide the surname.”

“We have to be careful. It might not be her. We’d need something to identify her as Isabella Viggo,” Massimo points out. “Isabella Baker could be someone working with them, or just a contact at the address with the same first name.”

“Or it’s her,” I press. Maybe it’s desperation making me eager to jump the gun and get somewhere. Or maybe I don’t want to spend the next six years in the same shit, or worse … losing someone else.

“How did you find this Dominic?” Massimo asks.

“I hacked everything known to man. I’ve had trackers set up on various systems to alert me when Mortimer’s name pops up. This came from a land registry office in Moscow. It was filed this morning. The moment it was scanned into the systems my bots picked it up. I did the rest of digging around with the details on the deed.”

Fuck… All I can do is look at him in amazement.

“Good job Dominic,” Massimo says with a nod.

“Fuck yeah,” I agree.

“So… What are we going to do?” Dominic asks nervously. “What do we do now?”Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.

“If this woman is his daughter, she’ll know where to find him,” I say picking up the photo of her.

She is really beautiful. That white blonde hair and those bright green eyes are striking. Her eyes hold me in place like she’s actually looking at me and there’s a sheen of determination in them.

Is she his daughter?

If she is then that makes her my enemy too. Guilty by mere association with hands as filthy and her soul as dark as her father’s.

A plan starts brewing in my mind and stirring in my soul. The same plan I’ve thought of before, many times. After Alyssa was killed there were countless times when I wondered if Mortimer had anybody he cared about. This could be her. A daughter.

“If we had her, it would be a step closer to finding him. A massive step,” I state.

“I doubt she’s going to give us that information so easily if Mortimer has gone through so many lengths to conceal his identity,” Dominic points out.

“No, I don’t think she will. We’d have to take her.”

My brothers look at me, neither disagreeing. We’re each as ruthless as the other. We know what needs to be done sometimes to get what we want. No matter if it’s right or wrong.

“Kidnap her,” Massimo states.

“Kidnap her,” I confirm with a nod.

“Can we do that?” he asks looking at each of us.

We’re not in the habit of kidnapping women. It should be something to think about properly. Since I’ve already thought, I have no problem with doing it. I guess that must mean my soul might be darker than my brothers. Maybe it is, after all it was me who got my wife’s head in a fucking box. My wife, who was taken, kidnapped.

“I’ll do it,” I offer. “I will do it.”

“It means war. If we get her and Mortimer finds out we have her, it heralds war,” Massimo says and I think back to the letter our anonymous friend sent us.

He seemed to know so much; I wonder if he knew the war he cautioned us about might start like this.

“What if we take her and demand he gives himself over?” Dominic suggests and I almost laugh.

That would be the thing to do if we were dealing with a weaker enemy. However, we’d be more likely to see hell freeze over, or fucking pigs taking flight in the sky before Mortimer handed himself over to us.

“It’s obvious she’s important to him,” he adds.

“Yes, but men like him don’t work like that.” Massimo shakes his head. “He wouldn’t give himself over to save his child. If he gets her, he knows we won’t kill her because she’s leverage.

He’ll do everything he can to get her back and that means weakening us in whatever ways he sees fit.”

“If he finds out we took her, it means death to everyone we know, here and in Italia,” I say, and Dominic bites the inside of his lip.

We’re strong, but when you don’t know what your enemy’s full strengths are that leaves you open for attack. Massimo has Emelia, his wife. Kill her and you kill the man he is. I know he’s thinking about her even as we speak. I would be too if I had a woman.

“Demanding ransom like that might have to be plan B,” Massimo adds.

“So, Plan A. should be focused on the simplest thing we can do,” I impart with a sigh.

“Yes, which is to avoid war.” Massimo asks. “The simplest thing to do is to find him and launch a surprise attack to eradicate him. Something he never saw coming and can’t prepare for.”

Goosebumps prickle my skin at the prospect of this happening, of finally getting Mortimer Viggo, and in such a way. This is a door that swung wide open for us to go through.

“I think I should take a trip to Rhode Island,” I offer. “If this woman is indeed his daughter, she’ll know where to find her father. If we could pull off a plan like that it would be priceless.”

“We’ll all go to Rhode Island,” Massimo replies with a determined nod. “Boys lets’ keep this under wraps. I’ll choose a select few to accompany us. We don’t tell anybody about this until we need to. The fewer people who know the better.”

Dominic and I both nod.

“We’ll need a solid plan when we get to Rhode Island,” Dominic says. “Providing it’s her.”

“Let me worry about that,” I answer.

Those eyes of hers stare at me and I already feel the beast roiling inside me getting ready to strike.