EL DIABLO II

by M. Robinson

  His murder.

  “When did they take her out of Italy?” I seethed, seeing nothing but fucking red.

  Bright.

  Raging.

  Luminous red.

  “A month! I think a month! That’s all I know! Please! I swear that’s all I know!”

  “Where? You piece of shit! Where did they take her?”

  “I told you everything I know!”

  He barely got the last word out when a bullet struck my thigh, tripping me up.

  There was no time to think.

  No time to breathe.

  No time to get the fuck out of there.

  “Motherfucker,” I scowled, feeling anger in a way I hadn’t before.

  Time seemed to pick that moment to suddenly slow down. Everything that proceeded was in slow motion.

  I jerked around, aiming my gun right at the person responsible, shooting their ass down dead in their tracks.

  Bang!

  With one goddamn shot to the forehead, I blew their brains out. I had no time to reflect on another stolen life I acquired. Immediately sick to my stomach. The last bit of my mortality was taken in plain fucking sight.

  It was the first time I point-blank killed…

  A young woman.

  Chapter 25

  —Cruz—

  “Noooooooo!” my victim screeched. “My wife! My fucking wife!”

  “Shit!” Carlo panicked, darting his gaze at me. “I didn’t see her, Boss. I swear—”

  Raising my gun, I took him out next. A bullet to the chest, causing his body to fly backward. “That’s for not guarding my six.”

  “Sir, I’m sor—”

  Another bullet near his heart. “Save your bullshit! That woman could have cost me my fucking life!”

  “Boss—”

  Last shot was to his head. His body dropped to the ground in one loud thud.

  No mistakes.

  Not one.

  He paid with his life.

  “Goddamn it!” I yelled out my frustrations, so much for Carlo being my main man.

  “I’m going to kill you!” my enemy threatened, only further adding gas to my burning blaze. “Do you hear me? I’m going to fuc—”

  Lifting my Glock yet again, I blasted him in his heart. My head was pounding, my leg throbbing, my fucking conscience was eating me alive. I was beyond over the fucking dramatics.

  In less than a minute, I murdered three people in cold blood. Limping over to the table in the middle of the shop, I carefully sat down to inspect the hole in my leg.

  “For fucks sake,” I rasped to myself, undoing my tie. I wrapped it around my thigh, using it as a tourniquet. The bullet was a straight shot through the side of my leg, I probably needed fucking stitches, but I didn’t have the patience for that right now. I was too fucking pissed.

  Literally fucking fire.

  I’d deal with it later when I got home. Thinking I was headed in that direction, my phone rang catching my attention.

  “Yeah,” I answered. This fucking device never stopped ringing.

  “Meet me at the vineyard,” Luciano ordered on the other end of the line.

  “Twenty minutes,” I retorted. “I need someone to clean up this mess at this motherfucker’s shop.”

  “Text me the address, I’ll send someone.”

  I hung up and sent him the coordinates of where I was.

  This was my life, wherever and whenever I was needed nothing else mattered, not even my wife. La Familia came first. It was what I sacrificed in order to find my sister.

  My life for hers.

  Through tunneled vision, I made it out to my car and stepped in. Opening the center console, I grabbed a few pain pills that I kept in there for circumstances like these and swallowed them down whole with no water before starting the engine. Yanking my steering wheel to the left, I made an illegal U-turn on the road I was on, driving toward the industrial warehouse that stored one of Luciano’s finest wineries in Sicily.

  I quickly learned El Capo didn’t half-ass anything that had his name attached to it. It was the best money could buy no matter what or who he had to kill to make sure his name remained at the top of the fucking food chain. I admired his tenacity at remaining number one.

  Which only navigated me to this point in time.

  Once I arrived at the secluded vineyard in the middle of nowhere, I parked my car and walked inside. It was dark as shit and I could barely see a foot in front of me, but when I stepped into the open area of the facility spotlights immediately turned on. Blinding my sight.

  Raising my hand to my eyes, I shouted, “El Capo, you here?”

  Within seconds, I saw a shadow sitting at the end of a rectangle table in the far corner of the warehouse.

  “Papà,” I called out, instantly recognizing his dominant stature sitting there by himself.

  “Have a seat, Crucifixio.”

  Hesitantly, I nodded.

  This was the first time since Adriana was kidnapped that my father and I were alone. We were usually with my mother or Lorenzo, sometimes with the five families. It was worse now since I didn’t live at home and had my own place with Sienna. A three thousand square foot ranch gifted by La Familia, as a wedding present.

  When I was close to the table, he gestured to the seat directly across from him at the other end. To say I wasn’t surprised he was instructing me to take a seat at the head of the table would be an understatement.

  I did as I was told, setting my hands out in front of me. Anticipating who the hell knows what. I answered to El Capo more than I did my father. Despite the fact he resurrected his life, he wasn’t leading the pack. He was still involved in every decision, but he wasn’t part of La Familia in that sense. He simply had their support.

  You couldn’t just leave the mafia, when you’re in, you’re in for life. However, his role as El Diablo wasn’t the same anymore. He was older, wiser, paid his dues. Made men respected him, period. No longer having to prove himself to anyone. His mere presence commanded authority.

  He didn’t beat around the bush, getting right to the point of our conservation. “What happened to your leg?”

  “Casualty. I need a new main man.”

  He gave me a curt nod, understanding my subtle explanation. “I’m not going to sit in front of you and tell you I wanted this life for you, Cruz. I did everything I could to keep this world away from you, your mother, and,” he paused, clearly thinking about Ari. “My daughter…but here we are. The moment you left your sister, the future of our family was forever changed, and all I can do now is make sure you’re protected to the best of my ability. I was born into this life, it was my legacy to fill my father’s shoes like the men before me who filled theirs.”

  I listened to what he was sharing, unaware of where he was going with this.

  “Martinez blood only knows violence and vengeance, and I faked my death to try and change the course of your heritage. In the end, the devil won regardless. Maybe it’s my punishment for the corrupt life I lived, for the men I murdered, for the families I destroyed.” He shook his head in what resembled resentment and shame. It was obvious he was consumed with his past in a way he never showed me before.

  It was confusing, to say the least.

  Why was he showing me his emotions?

  “I wanted to make an honest father of myself,” he justified, breaking my thoughts. “An honorable husband, a man who could repent through the love and devotion of his family. I was wrong. I can’t change fate. The only thing I did was piss it off. The price of my sins is your soul to this world, and I have to live with the decisions I’ve made and pray that you’ll find peace one day. I’ve spent over two decades trying to find it myself only to lure you to the depths of Hell.”

  I didn’t know what to say, I barely knew what to feel. The more lives I collected, the harder it was to feel anything at all. Stealing a young woman’s life hung heavy on my shoulders.

  This was a man’s world, for centuries women and chi
ldren were protected from war. I hated that it didn’t matter anymore.

  Man.

  Woman.

  Girl.

  Boy.

  Child.

  It was all fair game in this mafia life.

  “I should have known better than to give you my mother’s cross. I used to think it was protection, never realizing it was a curse until it was too late.”

  I held it in between my fingers, I never took it off.

  “Just when I think I’m out of this seedy world, you get pulled right in.”

  In an attempt at settling his integrity, I stated the truth, “I got what I wanted. It was only a matter of time before I became like you.”

  “I know.” He nodded. “I’ve known since the moment you were born. It’s why I tried so hard to keep you away from it. I can’t control your future any more than I can my own. The only thing I can do is make sure you have the backing you need to live a life of the unknown. You chose this, so this is your world now. I did my time. I stepped down a long time ago. It’s your turn to carry the burden of you reap what you sow.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  As if on cue, Luciano made his entrance into the room with Gino by his side, and what appeared to be a knife in one hand with a wine glass in the other. Both pieces looked old, like heirloom possessions. There was a significance and history behind those artifacts. That much I did know.

  With a nod of his head, he ordered me to stand.

  I did.

  Upon standing in front of me, El Capo declared, “You come into this life, but you won’t go out alive. The only way you leave this family is by being buried.”

  I narrowed my eyes.

  What followed next could only be described as a religious experience. I grew up in a church, my parents were insistent on it.

  Before I could give it too much thought, Luciano continued on, “You’ve proven yourself, Crucifixio. We take prisoners and make no excuses. You handled this afternoon in the way we needed you to.”

  “That was a test?”

  “What happened today just proves we are making the right choice. Protect and eliminate first, question the circumstances later.”

  Again, I didn’t know what to say, so I stayed quiet. It was better that way.

  “Our families were put together for a reason. I gave you my blood,” Luciano professed.

  Catching me by surprise, in a slow and deliberate movement, he slid the sharp knife diagonally across his top lip. Adding, “Now you’re going to give me yours.”

  Despite wanting to react, I stayed still as EL Capo brought the blade up to my top lip as well. With another quick, sudden movement, he sliced a cut from one end to the other.

  Testifying, “You become part of this knife and you become part of this chalice. Along with the list of many men before you.” Swiftly, he drank the wine from the glass. Leaving behind his blood on the rim. “You never speak about this moment, it’s one of many unwritten rules of our union. You will carry this initiation to your grave.”

  “Initiation to what?”

  He handed me the glass.

  My eyes connected with my fathers, who was suddenly standing beside my father-in-law. There was a saint card in is grasp, Pio of Pietrelcina. The patron saint of pain, suffering, and healing. I remembered learning about him in bible study.

  My father grabbed the knife of out Luciano’s hand, lighting the saint on fire, he welded the card onto the blade. There was no time for thoughts, impulsions, decisions were already made on my behalf.

  While El Capo recited, “As burns this saint, so will burn your soul. You enter alive, you exit dead. This blood means that we are now one family. You live by the gun and the knife, and you die by the gun and the knife. You were baptized when you were a baby, your parents did it. But now, this time, you’re baptized in mafia blood.” He handed me the chalice. “Drink up.”

  I did as I was told. Downing the wine from where Luciano’s blood remained. Fighting against my instincts, I didn’t dare move an inch when my father raised the searing hot knife up to my top lip.

  I hissed, fisting my hand as soon as the burning blade touched my mouth. He sealed the cut with our blood, in the name of the saint.

  “You’re one of us now,” my father exclaimed. “My death wasn’t resurrected the day I announced I was still alive. It was never about me, Crucifixio. The Devil is revived by you, son.”

  Our stares became one as he revealed…

  “You’re El Diablo now.”

  Chapter 26

  —Sienna—

  Another second.

  Minute.

  Hour.

  Day and night…

  Lonely as hell.

  The last three months we’d been married went by at a slow and steady pace. I felt every moment from the instant he abandoned me on our wedding night. I was a prisoner in my own home. A house I felt no attachment to whatsoever. Probably because I knew this was a gift from La Familia.

  The thought alone made me roll my eyes. They controlled every aspect of my existence without a moment’s notice. Now, behind these concrete walls, all I had was time to think about how much I hated my life. Unable to go anywhere without an arsenal of security guards surrounding me. And even then, I couldn’t go far. Adriana still hadn’t been found, so her kidnapping became my imprisonment in this massive estate.

  We had a ranch but no animals.

  Land but no family.

  Having everything we could ask for at our disposal but no love between us.

  It was a living, breathing nightmare. I wanted to be able to step outside and soak up the sun by myself, without having to worry about getting killed or taken.

  Papà would call me every day to check up on me and made sure to come and visit at least once or twice a week. He constantly reassured me he was being taken care of and I must not worry. Although I had all the time in the world to do exactly that. Lexi also came to visit me often, we’d become close. We didn’t talk about my marriage, we mostly spent time cooking. Distracting one another from the reality of this world. She missed her daughter, I missed my mother. We found comfort in each other.

  However, what I really longed for was Massimo, my horse. This was the longest I’d gone without riding him and it just triggered an extra hatred I had toward Cruz. Massimo was my escape from reality, my happy place. Where there was no violence or bloodshed, no memories of my mother or the life I was born into. There was only peace in a world that wreaked havoc all around me. My whole life was one big pile of dead fucking bodies. Every time Cruz came home with blood on him, it simply reminded me of that truth.

  “Sienna, your poor husband! How have you not taken care of your wifely duties?” Aurora chastised, sitting in the theatre room with me.

  We were having a reality show marathon of The Real Housewives, but really, we were just gossiping and catching up. She was traveling with Diego all over Europe since our wedding and this was the first time I’d seen or talked to her.

  “Oh my God! Now you too! Aurora, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

  “I am on your side, always and forever. But…have you seen what your husband looks like? How can you resist him? He’s such a stallion.”

  “I already own a horse, I don’t need another one.”

  “Cruz is probably hung like one too.”

  “Aurora!”

  “What? Don’t try to pretend with me, Sienna. I know you have taken a peak.”

  I side-eyed her.

  “What? Not even when he’s in the shower?”

  I laughed, I couldn’t help it. My best friend always made everything better and extremely entertaining.

  “Aurora, he’s never here.”

  “Oh…I see you, girl. You’ve thought about it then?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to. I know you, Sienna Martinez—”

  “Whoa, that was weird.”

  “What was weird?”

  “You just called me S
ienna Martinez.”

  “I know, it’s your name now.”

  “Yeah, I guess. I don’t know, it was just weird to hear you call me that.”

  “Maybe you should start calling yourself that more often. You know…” She did a loop in the air with her arm. “When you’re riding him.”

  “Aurora!” I playfully slapped her.

  “Sienna, enough with the innocent bullshit. I don’t believe it. I know you think about him naked. You want to know how I know?”

  “How?”

  “Because you’re thinking about it right now! I can see it written all over your face. You may hate him, but that doesn’t change the fact you’re attracted to him. You’d have to be blind not be, and even then, girl, his voice…oh my goodness! Talk dirty to me, baby!”

  “Oh my God.” I touched my forehead, shaking my head. “I cannot have a serious conversation with you.”

  “What’s not serious about this conversation? You haven’t consummated your marriage. Your poor husband.”

  “Whatever. I’m making his whores work overtime.”

  “You don’t know that, Sienna. You’re just assuming he has side pieces based on your own insecurities.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “Then what are you basing it off of?”

  “All the mafiosos in my family.”

  “So.” She shrugged. “Maybe he’s different. His parents look like they’re happily married. I mean, he faked his death for her. Hello! Good family morals right there, babe.”

  “Made men don’t have morals.”

  “But they have honor.”

  I bit my lip, she had a point.

  “You have to give me some dirt, Sienna. I know you said you guys fight all the time when he’s here, but if that were true then why do you keep making him dinner? You obviously feel something for him.”

  I found happiness in cooking, a trait I inherited from my mother. I was Italian, it was what we did—found joy in it. I was a damn good cook too. In my childhood home, I always cooked for my father. It was something my mother always did for him and after her untimely death, I took on that role. We had a housekeeper, chef, and full staff, but I was used to playing the part of the woman of the house.