Now, Salvatore might be my brother, and I’d kill and die for him, but mostly in the name of the Benetti Family. I had no disillusions about my middle brother. He was loyal to the Benetti name because I’d do more than just kill him if he ever betrayed me, and he knew it. Sal tended to be selfish, and that characteristic made it hard for me to trust him completely.
At twenty-eight, Salvatore was the middle brother, and Leonardo was the youngest at twenty-six. Leo was the youngest, but the kid was smart as a whip. His intelligence was made obvious at a noticeably young age, and he was the only one of us who went to college and got a degree. I was all for higher learning, but it was rarely needed in our operation. However, if any of my soldiers wanted to go to school, I never discouraged it.
Leo was our family accountant, while Sal was the cover-up man. Leo was tough and desensitized to a lot of the world around him, but the kid had a conscience, and when he felt, he felt deeply. It’s the reason I restricted him to the financial side of the business. Leo was always knee-deep in paperwork, audits, finances, etc. If something needed to be handled, I had every faith he could handle himself, but he left the punishments to me and the blood work to Sal.
And that’s what brought us here today. A week ago, some columns weren’t adding up and Leo traveled down a rabbit hole to get me everything he could before presenting the problem to me. When he finally did, it was apparent one of Gio’s low-level soldiers had a gambling problem.
Giovanni Benetti was my father and Mob Boss of the Benetti Family. He was close to reaching his sixties, but you couldn’t tell. There were many requirements in being a part of the Benetti Family, taking care of yourself was one of them. Even the family members who have done their time and have moved on into retirement still had to remain fit and healthy in case there was a need to recall them for a war. Some members were more fit and healthy than others, but every member was in good shape.
Gio was also deemed a good-looking man. He stood at six-foot with inky black hair and black eyes. In his prime, he had been built like a seasoned cage fighter, but time and age are hard realities, indeed. Gio has softened, but he was still in better shape than most men half his age.
I was also his spitting image.
Where Sal and Leo were a combination of our mother, Carlita, and our father, I was all Giovanni Benetti. They had Gio’s black hair and body frame, but they had green eyes like our mother, and they had inherited her dimples too. However, you could tell they were Benetti’s, through and through.
But while Gio was the head of the entire Benetti Organization, he wasn’t really. At this point, I’ve pretty much taken over and it was only a matter of time before he was pushed into retirement, and I was Boss. Most of the members have already been taking direction from me and see me as Boss. However, it’s come to my attention recently that the elders are having issues with their transfer of full loyalty because of my age and that I’m not married with heirs. This family was a legacy, and they’d prefer it if I had a family first as a reassurance in securing the legacy.
It would serve the bastards right if I only brought daughters into this world.
But back to the issue at hand. Carlos Romano had a gambling problem, and that was another additional requirement when belonging to the Benetti Family. You could drink, but you mustn’t be an alcoholic. You could partake in any white substance you wanted if you were partying, but you mustn’t be a junkie. You could gamble on the game or horses, but you mustn’t be an addict. You could fuck all the pussy you wanted, but you better wrap it up. If any child was conceived from you sticking your dick in whores, hookers, or strippers, you were going to do right by that child regardless of your relationship with its mother. That stipulation did a lot to keeping our soldiers’ dicks in their pants, but they were still men. And men would always be victims of their need for pussy.