Chapter 6 - The Purge of the Capos
The Grand Ballroom of the Messina estate was typically reserved for high-society charity events and political fundraisers. Tonight, however, it was set up for a different kind of gathering.
The long mahogany banquet table in the center of the room was surrounded by the twelve Capos of the Messina family. At the head of the table sat Luciano, looking like an emperor of the underworld in a sharp black suit. I stood on the balcony above, hidden in the shadows, watching the scene unfold.
Matteo stood behind Luciano, his hand resting on his jacket, his eyes scanning the room with a lethal focus.
"Gentlemen," Luciano said, his voice cutting through the tense silence of the ballroom. "We are here to celebrate our new peace. The marriage with the Caruso family has stabilized our northern borders. Our profits are up thirty percent this quarter."
"To peace, Don Luciano," Enzo Varga said, raising his glass with a wide, greasy smile. "And to your beautiful bride. We were all deeply saddened to hear of her sudden... illness."
"Yes," Luciano said, his gray eyes locking onto Enzo’s face. "A sudden illness. The doctors say it was arsenic. A very old-fashioned poison. The kind of poison used by cowards who don't have the courage to look a man in the eye when they kill him."
The smile on Enzo's face stiffened. "A tragedy, Don. Have we found the rat who did it?"
"We have," Luciano said, standing up slowly. He walked down the side of the table, stopping directly behind Enzo’s chair. "We found the shipping records for a chemical warehouse in North Philly. A warehouse owned by your brother, Enzo."
Enzo lunged to his feet, his chair crashing backward onto the marble. "This is a setup! Don Luciano, I have been loyal to this family for fifteen years! You are taking the word of a Caruso whore over your own men?!"
SLAM.
Luciano’s hand snapped out, catching Enzo by the throat. With an display of raw, terrifying strength, Luciano lifted the heavy Capo and slammed him face-first onto the banquet table, shattering the plates and wine glasses.
Before Enzo could scream, Luciano drew his sleek silver stiletto blade and drove it straight through Enzo’s right hand, pinning it securely to the thick mahogany of the table.
The ballroom erupted into screams of terror. Several Capos reached for their weapons, but Matteo and his men instantly drew their automatic pistols, pointing them at the heads of anyone who moved.
"Who gave you the right to lay a finger on my wife?" Luciano roared, his voice vibrating through the silent hall like thunder. He leaned down, his face inches from Enzo’s bloody, screaming face. "You thought I didn't see the way you looked at her? You thought I didn't know you were skimming from the South Side docks?"
He twisted the blade, drawing a fresh shriek of agony from the Capo. "This ends now. You are stripped of your rank. You are stripped of your crew. If you ever breathe the air of this city again, I won't use a knife. I will use the river."
He pulled the blade free. Enzo collapsed to the floor, clutching his ruined hand, sobbing in his own blood.
Luciano looked up at the remaining Capos, his gray eyes dark with an unbridled, primitive fury. "Anyone else want to discuss my wife's father?"
The Capos stood in absolute, terrified silence, none of them daring to make eye contact with the Don.
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Luciano wiped the blood from his blade with a silk handkerchief and looked up toward the balcony. Our eyes met through the shadows, and for the first time, I didn't see a monster.
I saw my husband.
