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He stood up and laughed at me while taking a handkerchief out of his suit pocket. “You'll never be out,” he spat. “Half-breed degenerate or not...you're the only son I have.”
His jaw clenched. “I never believed in the curse before, but it must be true. Because how the fuck are you, my kid,” he sneered. “You don't even look like me.” His lips turned up in a snarl. “Except your eyes. Those eyes are mine. But other than that you look just like your whore of a mothe―”
He didn't get a chance to finish that sentence because I lunged and sailed my fist into his face again.
“Go ahead, Bruno. Say it again, I dare you. Call my mother a whore again and see what the fuck I'm capable of doing to you. You're not a man!” I screamed. “Look what you did today. I saw you take that man's life. He was a good man. And you stood there and smiled as―” I paused because I was hoping he didn't see that little girl after all.
His eyes gleamed. “As I what?” He took a step forward. “Watched that little girl cry and scream for her daddy as I killed him?”
He reached into his pocket for a knife and I backed up. “You're goddamned right I did. And I would do it again.”
“You really are Satan,” I whispered.
He tilted his head back and chuckled. “And you're my spawn. There's no way out of it. Don't ever let me hear you deny who you are again.”
I shook my head. “I'm not your son. We might share the same DNA. But I'm not yours. I'll never be you. You're dead to me.”
I turned on my heels and walked out of the room.
Only to feel something sharp pierce my arm. I flung my arm to attack but whatever one of his men had injected me with was strong.
Way too fucking strong.
Then I realized—it was the special DeLuca brand of heroin. Strongest brand of heroin to hit the East Coast.
Given I had absolutely no tolerance for the stuff, the effects were immediate.
I staggered until I fell on my knees and proceeded to throw up. That's when two of his men picked me up and tossed me in an SUV.
He only enlisted the use of his two best men and his SUV to do one thing.
Major drug deals or to kill someone.
I closed my eyes, let the euphoria wash over me and wished for death.
What felt like hours later, I was awoken by a sharp kick to the ribs. I opened my eyes and tried to take in my hazy surroundings.
The first thing I realized was that I was in a fairly small bathroom.
The second thing I realized was that it was a bathroom I recognized.
We were at my mother's apartment in the Bronx.
I saw DeLuca crouched down over the bathtub. He looked at me briefly before shutting off the water.
Then I saw who was in the bathtub. “Mom!” I screamed.
I hadn't seen her in years, but it didn't matter. She was still my mother and I would always love her.
Her eyes flickered and she moaned something unintelligible. “What's wrong with her?”
DeLuca pulled out a few syringes and that answered my question. I went to stand up but the bathroom door opened and his two big guard dogs took hold of my arms and forced me to sit back down.
“She's not dead yet, son,” DeLuca sneered. “I wanted to wait for you to wake up first.”
Chills ran up my spine. “Please, Babbo. I'll do whatever you want. Please don't hurt her.”
He'd already done that enough.
“Too late for that.” He began to draw up the syringes with heroin. “I thought killing that cop would have taught you a lesson, but evidently not. You leave me no choice but to do this now.”
“No!” I screamed. “Babbo, please. I learned my lesson. I'll be you. I swear. I'll do it. I'll live up to my legacy. Just don't kill her.”
He proceeded to tie two tourniquets around both my mother's arms while I screamed.
I tried to get out of his guard's hold, but I was too weak.
He positioned one of the needles above her vein and I felt the entire world stop.
Then he turned to look at me. With a big smile, he plunged it into her vein.
Tears welled in my eyes and I screamed even louder for my mother.
He plunged the second needle in her arm just as I managed to break free.
I ran over to him but I wasn't fast enough. Her head was already dipping under the water and her limbs were lifeless.
I reached out to grab her, but DeLuca slapped my face hard before wrapping a hand around my throat. “Shed one more tear, Ricardo. One more tear and I swear, I'll kill that little girl.” He lowered his voice. “And I'll do it right in front of you.”
Something in me snapped at that moment―I knew I would never defeat him.
He was too strong and powerful for me to beat.
Too evil.
I wiped my eyes and cleared my throat. “Yes, sir.”
“Atta boy.”
“I have a proposition for you,” my father declared two weeks later.
Since I knew that his propositions were nothing more than him forcing people to bend to his will, I just shrugged. “What do you need?”
I felt like I was on autopilot, just going through the motions of living.
Doing whatever it took to make him happy.
“You haven't been to the gym in the last two weeks.”
“My mother's dead,” was my only response.
His expression changed to one of a
“Yes, Sir.”
“I fear I might have made the wrong choice by taking her life in front of you. I think I made you weaker instead of stronger. So, I have something else I would like to do instead.”
I stayed silent. It didn't matter what he wanted of me, I would have to do it anyway.
“I'm opening up an underground fight club.”
“Figured as much.”
It really was no surprise to me, I knew he always wanted to open one and given that he was on his way to being the biggest mob boss that ever lived, he was in the position to make it happen.
Frankly, I was shocked he hadn’t opened one sooner.
“You need me to man the door or something? Collect the bets?”
“I want you to fight,” he said.
That got my attention. “What do you mean?”
He folded his hands in front of him and had that look in his eyes. That look that said he was excited about his new business endeavor.
“I want the best of the best fighting in my cage.”
“Cage? That's MMA fighting.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I'm aware, but I like the idea of the cage. It's more brutal and savage that way. Now, let me finish. Any style of fighting goes, Boxing, MMA, hell even street fighting.”
“What's the catch?”
He tapped his fingers together and smirked. “I'll be offering deals for my fighters. Something that will get them out of jail.”
“I don't understand.”
“You're not supposed to, son. Your deal will be slightly different than theirs.” He paused and looked at me. “Although, you'll agree for the same reason they will.”
“How so?”
He leaned forward. “What's the one thing you want more than anything?”
“Freedom,” I answered without a second thought.
“Exactly. If you make it through the next 10 years in my underground fight club―you're a free man. You'll never have to live up to the DeLuca name again.”
“Yeah, right. Besides, I still have the rest of my senior year of high school to complete.”
He looked me in the eyes and held out his hand. “You're dropping out. I'm many things, son...but I'm a man of my word. You make it through these next 10 years...alive. And you're free.”