Too Late To Beg: The Scapegoat's Revenge

Vitiel

e is heavy, suffocating, like

nitiati

ck suits, the air thick with stale cigar smok

d of the long table, hi

Capo-Dante's fat

atch. He keeps glancing

waiting f

te is n

Associates and family members, my h

, her fingers digging

hispers, terrified.

othly. "I haven't see

nged on our door, demanding

th: I gave him his

here he was going.

on the w

s past the

y min

et ring against the mahogan

und of a dea

itiation is an insult. To

g. "Don Salvatore, please. There mus

rs cras

head

stumbl

, missing buttons; his hair is wild,

y walk in a

transforms into shock, t

ood Oath because

mother, lets out a choked

he wants to shoot hi

delier hurting his eyes. He looks around, r

stare. He sees his fa

face. He needs an exc

oom frantically unt

im with the same impassive expr

shaking fi

reams, his v

oom g

"She was jealous! She drugged my drink! She lo

n front of me, hi

e you saying?"

ave his own skin at the cost of my life. "She tried to blackmail me into m

ngs in the air, h

ure one-against his will, and causing him

t ruining my

ing my dea