Chapter 36: Clearing The Weed

Chapter 36

Domenico struggled for breath, his own life flashing in front of him. He tried using both his hands to free himself from Leone’s grip, but his attempts were futile, and it seemed like this time around Leone was really intent on killing him. Tears spilled from his eyes as he battled for his life.

“Leone,” the Don called, and Leone rolled his eyes before letting go of Domenico’s neck. Domenico gasped for breath, his eyes dilating as his lungs struggled to collect the air.

“Anything but that, Leone. You know that,” Enzo said, his tone grave.

“No one touches what is mine. You know that, Don,” Leone’s jaw ticked as he stared at his father, who was ready to pull all strings to ensure he didn’t lose his son.

It was shameful that Domenico, the future Don of this empire, now had his life in the hands of his younger brother. He didn’t want anyone witnessing this.

Enzo took a sharp breath in. “Anything else but that,” his tone sharp and clear, his eyes unwavering. He walked away from there, leaving them to deal with their mess.

Not wasting even half a second longer, the butler quickly tailed behind him, grateful for walking out of there in one piece.

Domenico got out from the casket, his face now fallen with shame.

Rico came back in with the 10 men which Leone had ordered him to bring. Leone turned to face Domenico. “A pity you couldn’t find him, Domenico,” his jaw ticked. “Everything that happens from here is on you,” Leone patted his shoulder.

Domenico couldn’t even utter a word; all he did was watch silently. Even Nevio, his right-hand man, had begun trembling in fear. Just like Domenico, he hadn’t foreseen the outcome.

“Line them up,” Leone ordered his men, and just like that, Domenico’s men, who had been digging up his tree, were lined up.

They were made to kneel with both their hands and legs tied. Fear ate at them as they stared at Domenico pleadingly for help, and they had never been more ashamed to have Domenico as their boss. He simply stood there and averted their gaze like a weakling, a coward.

Even Nevio stood behind him, silently watching everything unfold before his eyes.

It all seemed like a movie—one filled with horror—as Domenico’s men were thrown into the dug-up hole. They cried, screamed, pleaded for help. It was insane to say, but that only did nothing but amplify Leone’s excitement as he watched them beg to live. The most exciting of all was how Domenico watched, tongue-tied, fear stricken.

Leone walked up to Nevio, placing his hand on his shoulder to feel him trembling, cold sweat etched on his forehead.

“No,” Domenico finally spoke. “Not him! He’s my right-hand man and an upstanding member of this mafia clan. You’re not to touch him!”

Leone chuckled. The sound was so melancholic that goosebumps formed on their bodies. “Lest I remind you, you’re one word away from joining Diego in the afterlife.”

Domenico gulped, and he could say nothing more as Leone’s eyes fell back on Nevio, clutching his shoulder harder to have him wince in pain.

“As an upstanding member of this clan, you don’t mind taking the honors of using the coffin now, do you?”

A lopsided grin formed on his lips.

Nevio couldn’t even breathe anymore, and in the next moment, he was pushed into the open casket and locked in it.

He banged, kicked, screamed, but it changed nothing. Leone’s men threw him into the dug-up space and covered it with enough soil that the sound of his screams couldn’t be heard anymore.

Domenico stormed away from the place, but Leone was sure that this would get the leech away from him for a good number of weeks.

…….

10 p.m., Leone’s mansion ………….

Leone stood on his balcony as he sipped from a glass of wine, a grim look on his face as he stared at the apple tree from there.

His eyes were completely empty, his lips pressed into a thin line. What happened today was just the tip of the fuckin’ iceberg. He hadn’t even started with Domenico.

“Boss,” Rico bowed. “I contacted Antonio, and the arborists will be here first thing tomorrow morning, boss.”

“Good,” he replied curtly, and Rico saw it as no moment to hang around and ask questions that might lead him six feet below the soil. He immediately bowed and excused himself.

He met the Don at the front of the door, and he bowed deeply, remaining like that till the Don walked past him. Rico quickly dashed away.

“One day, a total of fifteen people gone.” A grim look rested on Enzo’s face as he stood next to Leone. Both men were of the same height.

“Their lives weren’t wasted. At least my dear tree gets decent manure,” Leone took another sip from his wine.

Silence settled between the father and son duo, and then Enzo sighed, a tired look on his face. Being the Don of the most powerful mafia group in the world was a hassle, but dealing with his two sons was becoming even more strenuous than it.

He took a pipe from his coat, lighting and dragging smoke from it. “My father used to say it was better to clear the weed from the root than let it grow and spread.”

Leone chuckled at his words, knowing fully well that his grandfather had uttered those words because of him—and the weed in question had been him.

“Must be terrible to know you could have tamed the situation if only you had taken dear grandfather’s advice. A pity you can’t give the dead an apology, Enzo,” Leone smirked, sarcasm laced in the tone.

Enzo sighed again, blowing the smoke out of his mouth. “He would be alive and well if you hadn’t killed him, Leone.”

Leone finally turned to face him, mirth swirling in his eyes. “I guess unlike you, I took his advice—clearing the weed from the root.”