My Masters' Nightmare Season 1, Episode 12 "Confrontation" by Marita A. Hansen

 
     
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    ALESSANDRO
    The weaselly little fucker pointed
the gun at my head, ordering me to get out of the car, while another soldier
headed for a small white cottage, holding an unconscious Andriena. The place
was far too quaint and pretty to be the hideout for the nastiest mafia famiglia on my island. There was even a colorful array of spring flowers surrounding
the building, making it look like a little old granny’s home. But like the
candy house in Hansel and Gretel, nothing but evil lurked inside.
    “Please, Alessandro, get out of the
car,” Leo said.
    I pushed out of the back seat,
imagining snapping the bastardo in two. But I couldn’t do merda ,
because my hands were tied behind my back. Though, if he came closer, I’d go for
him, taking the traitor out.
    Leo lifted his gun. “Don’t even
think about it, Alessandro.”
    I glared at him, furious he was
doing this to me. He was a fucking Rosso, a cousin of my sister’s husband, yet he
was helping the Donatelli. The Rossos were supposed to be allies. My brothers
had even risked their lives to help Leo’s famiglia . They had gotten a
number of the Rossos off the island, away from the Landi, who wanted to kill
every last one of them for the deaths of Pedro’s daughters.
    “If Ricardo knew you were doing
this to me, he’d gut you,” I said. “No, he’d pulverize you with his bare
hands.”
    Leo flinched, his face draining of
color. And he had a right to be fearful, because my oldest brother was vicious.
Ricardo wouldn’t think twice about beating someone into an unrecognizable pulp.
If anything, he wouldn’t even think about it, because once Ricardo fell into a
blood rage, he went on autopilot, the man a killing machine. He’d done it with
one of my previous kidnappers. My brother Dominic had tracked down the man,
bringing him back to the house. Ricardo had then dragged him in front of me. I’d
only been sixteen at the time and still terrified of my kidnapper. But that
terror had quickly turned into horror as my brother beat the man into nothing
before my eyes, my kidnapper’s screams forever haunting me. I hadn’t wanted
that kind of revenge. After almost dying, I hated anything to do with death,
even when it was one of my enemies sucking in his last breath. Instead, I had wanted
the man in prison, rotting away for the rest of his life, rather than become
nothing within seconds. Because he wasn’t nothing to me; he’d shaped my life,
and when he died, a little piece of me died with him.
    “I’m being forced to help the
Donatelli,” Leo said, finally finding his voice. He was from the ass end of the
Rosso hierarchy, a two-bit hustler who took care of the drugs and whores. And
he looked it. The fifty-something male was dressed in a cheap suit that
should’ve been destroyed after the seventies. His shirt’s lapels were bigger
than Dumbo’s ears, while the pinstripes on his pants made his legs look twice
as skinny. And to top it off, his comb over was covered in enough grease to fry
a factory load of eggs. Everything about Leo screamed sleaze. Still, I hadn’t
thought he was capable of stooping this low—especially not when it came to
double-crossing my famiglia.
    “Is Sergio in on this?” I asked,
hoping my brother-in-law had nothing to do with the Donatelli. I liked the man,
and not only that, he was the father of two of my nieces and one of my nephews.
    “No.”
    I breathed out in relief, because
Ricardo would’ve killed Sergio in retribution. “Who out of your famiglia are helping the Donatelli?”
    “I can’t say,” Leo said, “and if I
was given a choice I wouldn’t be helping them either, so don’t take your anger
out on me.” He leaned in closer. “But, I will try my best to help you. Just
don’t go near the Padre and do whatever Christo asks of you. You might make
it out alive if you comply—”
    “What are you talking about?” a man
barked, cutting Leo off.
    Leo shot away from me. “Nothing, Signore ,”
he said,