leaning against my father’s desk looking down at Carlos. He was on his knees in front of me, already a blithering mess, begging for forgiveness. I always conducted Benetti business at my father’s house; the Benetti Home. I had several condos and apartments scattered throughout Morgan City, but I rarely handled business at any of them. I was constantly watching my back, so I rarely shared my space with anyone. The only place I was ever truly at peace at was my penthouse at Kratos.
“Luca,” Carlos blubbered, “I…it was a mistake. I…a sickness. You understand, right?” He shook his head. “Please, don’t give me to The Son. Please, I beg of you.”
Me, Ciro, and Phoenix Fiore were known as The Holy Trinity within the family, the city of Morgan City, and pretty much the entire state.
Phoenix was referred as The Holy Ghost because he was the Benetti Family’s number one hit man and has never been detected in the six years he’s been killing for us. He was like an invisible nightmare that you never saw coming unless he showed himself to you. He had thousands of kills to his credit, but we only used him when the murders were high profile and needed to remain unsolved.
Ciro was known as The Son because he was my right-hand man. He was the Benetti’s number one enforcer, but he, along with Phoenix, were also my closest friends. They weren’t my best friends, but they were both equally matched for the runner-up position. Ciro was a bit of a blood thirsty lunatic and people’s fear of him was warranted. He had several locations scattered throughout the city where he took his victims, but he had one that was especially close to his heart that he called his funhouse.
The streets called me The Father, and I gathered it was because everyone knew, one day, I’d be the head of the Benetti Family. I’m not sure how we were dubbed with the titles, but we’d been called The Holy Trinity for years now. Probably because, even though Phoenix was two years younger than me and Ciro, we’d been inseparable as children.
I regarded him. “Lucky for you, Ciro is busy at the moment,” I told him. “Besides, you’re not trash to be handed over to him for a lesson learned.” I narrowed my black eyes. “You were a Benetti. You were held to a higher standard than the average man, Carlos. And while I think a few days with The Son would do you some good, I don’t think you’ll be given that privilege today.” His tearful brown eyes widened.
It was widely known that Ciro always gave his victims a chance at survival. He would fight them one-on-one like a real man, and if you could best him, you were free to go. If you couldn’t, well, then, you spent however long he deemed it necessary in his funhouse. Some made it out alive. Most didn’t.
What a lot of people didn’t know was that Ciro was a master at several different fighting disciplines, so the odds of anyone really winning in a fight against the man were slim. And there was no way Carlos here could go toe-to-toe with Ciro and win. And in the six years that Ciro’s been torturing motherfuckers, he’s never lost a fight.
He probably never will.
“Luca, I just need some counseling, or something,” Carlos continued to beg. “I know I can beat this addiction. I know I can.”
Sal let out a snort from where he was sitting comfortably on the brown leather couch in the office. He knew where this was headed even if Carlos was deluding himself into hoping otherwise. The only other person in the room was Carlos’ Capo, Elias. He was also another man who knew he was in deep shit. He was responsible for Carlos and every member of his crew. Elias either knew Carlos was skimming from the top or he didn’t. Either scenario wasn’t good for him. A Capo should always know what his crew members were about.
I asked the one question I already knew the answer to. “I need to make an example out of someone, Carlos,” I informed him. “If not you, then that leaves only Elias. Should I spare you and take your betrayal out on Elias instead?”
The bastard nodded. “Well…it is his fault, don’t you think? For not…paying better attention and getting me help?”
Loyalty.
It was the foundation of everything we were. Not money. Not drugs. Not power. Not guns. Not muscle. Not