Tempted by the Sinner

“That’s how I greet you, Maksim,” Vince said.

Understanding hit me. That was Maksim, the head of the Russian mafia. My mouth hung open, but the men didn’t seem to notice me. I took off the bottle cap, screwed it back on.

“I know bad thing just happen to you,” Maksim said, “and so I will let that slide. But careful now, boy.”

“Enough, Vince,” Don Leone said. “We need to talk about what we’re doing next.”

“There’s only one thing we can do,” Vince said. “We have to kill every single Jalisco we can find and send a message to those goddamn bastards.”

Don Leone walked behind his desk and sat with a grunt. He stared at them, frowning a deep grooved glare.

“And what do you think, Maksim?” Don Leone asked.

Maksim gestured toward Vince with his chin. “Boy has a point,” he said.

“Call me boy one more time—” Vince started, but his father held up a hand.

“Enough,” Don Leone said. “Maksim, show my son some respect. Vince, you need to cool down.”

Vince grunted and paced along the window. “We’ve been a step behind the Jalisco this whole time,” he said. “Everything we’ve done has been in reaction. It’s time to do something of our own.”

“Yes, perhaps,” Maksim said. “Make move on them, show Jalisco they cannot push us around.”

“There’s no us yet,” Vince said.

Don Leone rubbed his head with both hands like he was trying to wake himself up. “That’s why we’re here, Vincent,” he said. “I want to change that right now.”

Vince stopped pacing. “You want to do— what?”

“We come to make deal, Vince,” Maksim said. “Your father and me, we come to agreement. Time to make official, yes?”

Vince gaped at them for a moment then seemed to gather himself. “You’re going through with this alliance right now?” he asked. “Right this minute?”

“That’s the plan,” Don Leone said. “Do you object to it?”

Vince opened his mouth then shut it again. He looked over at me, and I leaned back in the chair. I unscrewed the cap and lifted the bottle to my lips. I took a long drink before screwing it back on and putting it down on the table without looking at the felt.

I shook my head, just a little bit. Vince’s face went hard and he closed his eyes before looking at Maksim.

“No, I don’t object,” he said.

“Good, very good,” Maksim said. “That is very good. So we make official now, yes? How do you Italians like to close deal?”

“Simple,” Don Leone said and opened a desk drawer. He gripped something and pulled it out.

I sat forward and stared at the long, sharp-looking knife he placed down on his desk. The handle was ornate, gold with scrolling carvings all along it, and the blade was straight and double-edged.

“What do we do with that?” Maksim asked.

“Blood to blood,” Don Leone said. “It’s very simple. We mingle our blood and sweat to uphold the terms of our agreement. Can you handle that, Maksim?”

“I can handle blood,” he said. “I handle blood all day. Blood never bothers me.”

“Good.” Don Leone stood, gripped the knife, came around the desk.

I thought I saw a moment of indecision in Maksim’s eyes, but it went away as Don Leone gripped the blade of the knife and yanked it down. He cursed as blood welled up in his palm from a long cut down the center.

Don Leone held the knife out to Maksim.

“Dramatic,” Maksim said, but took the blade, gripped it, and yanked. He cursed in Russian as Vince came over and took the knife away.

“We bond ourselves, Maksim,” Don Leone said. “My blood to your blood. If you break this bond, may your blood run cold, maybe it dry up and thicken in your chest and heart.”

“Yes, same to you,” Maksim said.

They gripped each other’s hand and shook.

I stared at them and realized that I was bearing witness to a ritual that few people ever got to see. It was a real blood oath, the sort of thing playground kids pretended to believe in, except these were two dangerous, grown men.

Vince caught my eye and nodded once as he returned the bloody knife to his father’s desk.

Don Leone dropped Maksim’s hand and took a handkerchief from his pocket. He gave it to Maksim, who wrapped it around his hand, then walked to his desk and pulled some tissues from a drawer.

“I’ll have Roberto bring bandages,” Don Leone said. “But first, we have to come to a decision.”

“On what?” Maksim asked.

“On the Jalisco,” Don Leone said.

“I know what we have to do,” Vince said, lingering over near the window again.

“What’s that, young ally?” Maksim asked with a little smirk.

Vince stared at him. “Shock and awe,” he said.

I sat up straight and my eyes went wide with excitement. I felt my pulse pick up in my chest as I realized that Vince was taking my advice.