The Mafias Obsession: Obey, Kneel, Submit

“DO NOT FUCKING PLAY WITH ME, DIEGO!” Dominic Valenzo’s roar ripped through the alley as he stepped further clenching his jaw. “WHERE THE HELL IS MY MONEY?!”

Before Diego could even blink, Dominic’s fist slammed into his jaw, a brutal crunch of bone meeting bone. Diego’s head whipped back, blood bursting from his lips as his body crashed to the ground like a filth.

He was more than just a soldier to Dominic.

He was Dominic’s first. The first man to swear loyalty. The first man Dominic pulled from the gutters, cleaned up, gave a name, a purpose, a family. For over a decade, Diego was Dominic’s right hand. But beneath that loyalty, something festered.

Jealousy.

Dominic didn’t let up.

He stalked forward, eyes black with fury, his breath sharp and ragged like a man on the edge of slaughter. He grabbed Diego by the collar, dragging him up to his knees, and slammed him against the freezing brick wall.

“You thieving little fuck,” Dominic spat. “YOU THINK YOU COULD STEAL FROM ME AND FUCKING LIVE?!”

Diego coughed violently, spitting blood as he tried to speak. “Dom, please…listen…”

“SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH,” Dominic snapped, his hand shooting out and cracking across Diego’s cheek with a slap so loud it echoed down the alley. “YOU DON’T GET TO SAY MY NAME AFTER WHAT YOU DID.”

“I…I didn’t have a choice…”Diego stammered, trembling. “They came for me… they threatened my daughter….”

Dominic froze.

Then slowly, he grinned. A cold, venomous grin that held no warmth. Only death. He knew tgis fucker was lying.

“Oh. Now you want to play the fucking father?” he sneered. “Now you want to paint yourself as the victim, huh? Touching story. But you forgot one thing, Diego.”

He leaned in, his face inches from Diego’s, and growled, “NON HAI UNA FIGLIA. SEI SOLO UN BUGIARDO.”

[You don’t have a daughter. You’re just a fucking liar.]

Diego’s eyes widened. His lips parted. But nothing came out. No defense. No more lies.

Dominic shoved him to the ground.

“You stole from me,” he hissed. “You didn’t just take money. YOU TOOK A FILE THAT COULD RIP EVERYTHING I BUILT INTO THE FUCKING DIRT. You took it and ran like a fucking coward. Like a RAT.”

Blood pooled in Diego’s mouth as he tried to breathe, pain searing through his ribs. “They said they’d kill me… I didn’t know what to do…”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO DIE FOR ME!” Dominic shouted, eyes blazing. “YOU SWORE TO ME! YOU TOOK MY OATH. YOU DRANK MY BLOOD. YOU CALLED ME BROTHER!”

He squatted down in front of him, slow and steady, the kind of calm that made the devil shiver. He reached into his coat and pulled out his gun, dragging the barrel along Diego’s blood-slicked cheek.

“I RAISED YOU. I FED YOU. I CLEANED YOUR FUCKING SINS WHEN NOBODY ELSE WOULD.” He shoved the barrel between Diego’s lips. “AND THIS IS HOW YOU REPAY ME?”

He snarled against his ear.

“SEI MORTO NEL MOMENTO IN CUI HAI SCELTO DI TRADIRMI.”

[You died the moment you chose to betray me.]

Diego whimpered around the gun, tears streaking down his bloodied face.

Dominic pulled the gun back and cracked him across the face with it.

“You were NOTHING before me. A twitchy junkie with no name. I made you into a man. Into a fucking soldier. I gave you power. And you traded all of it…for what? Coins and a fucking whisper? That’s all it took for you to turn on me?”

Diego cried out. “I was scared! I thought they’d kill me!”

“YOU THINK I DON’T KNOW FEAR?” Dominic screamed, his voice raw and guttural. “YOU THINK I HAVEN’T BURIED MEN WITH MY OWN HANDS? YOU THINK FEAR EXCUSES BETRAYAL?”

He grabbed Diego by the throat.

“YOU SOLD YOUR SOUL TO ME. NOT TO THEM. ME.”

He forced the gun back into Diego’s mouth, pressed it hard against his tongue, until the man gagged and squirmed.

“TI GUARDERÒ NEGLI OCCHI MENTRE TI TOGLIO L’ANIMA.”

[I’m going to look you in the eyes while I rip your soul out.]

“I WANT TO HEAR YOU CHOKE ON REGRET.”

Diego sobbed, choking on his spit and metal. Dominic’s eyes locked on his, burning with hatred.

“You see this face?” he whispered. “THE LAST FACE YOU’LL EVER SEE IS THE ONE YOU BETRAYED.”

He ripped the gun away again, blood dripping from the barrel.

“E ADESSO, FIGLIO DI PUTTANA… PREGHIERAI CHE TI AMMAZZI.”

[And now, son of a bitch… you’re going to beg me to kill you.]

Dominic stood up slowly, towering over him like judgment day itself.

“Because mercy?” he whispered. “Mercy died when you opened that fucking file.”

As Diego wheezed on the ground, a mangled, trembling heap of blood and broken bones. He looked messed up. But guess what Dominic wasn’t satisfied. Not even fucking close.

Dominic took a deep breath, exhaled slowly, and cracked his neck like he was just getting started.

“You thought I was gonna make it quick?” he whispered with a smirk, walking around him in slowly. “No. No, no, no. I want you to feel every second of this.”

He kicked Diego in the gut. Hard. The sound that came out of Diego’s mouth was something between a scream and a sob. Dominic crouched beside him again and pulled something from his coat…his silver ring. The one he wore when he first brought Diego into the family.

“I gave you this,” Dominic said, showing it to him. “You cried when I slid it on your finger. Said you’d never take it off. Remember that?”

He didn’t wait for a response. He gripped Diego’s trembling hand, yanked off the ring, and slammed it into his mouth.

“Swallow it,” Dominic snarled.

Diego choked, coughed, blood bubbling on his lips as he shook his head desperately.

Dominic punched him in the throat.

“SWALLOW IT, YOU FUCKING COWARD!”

Diego gagged, choking on the ring until it slid down his throat with a wet gasp. He collapsed again, coughing, retching, but Dominic laughed in a husky tone.

“You’re gonna carry my name in your guts to the grave, you fucking traitor,” he muttered. “That’s how deep I own you.”

He stood again, breathing heavier now. Diego was sobbing, unable to even look up. His body twitched on the cold concrete, blood pooling beneath him.

Dominic reached into his pocket, pulled out a switchblade, and crouched again.

“You’re gonna wish I shot you first.”

He sliced the blade across Diego’s forearm. Not deep enough to kill. Just enough to make him scream. Then again. And again. Dominic didn’t stop until blood poured like a river and Diego was crying like a child.

“Tell me,” Dominic said, his voice eerily calm. “Did you scream like this when you handed them that file? Huh? Did you hesitate when you fucked me over?”

He leaned in, blade now resting against Diego’s cheek.

“Or did it feel good? Did it make you feel powerful? Like a man?”

Diego shook his head, sobbing. “I was wrong…Dom…I was so wrong…I made a mistake….Please don’t kill me. I promise I’ll get the file back. I promise. I’ll get it back.

Dominic pressed the tip of the blade just beneath Diego’s eye. Blood ran in thin streams.

“No, Diego,” he whispered. “You didn’t make a mistake. You made a decision.”

He pulled the blade away and shoved the gun back against Diego’s forehead, locking eyes with him. No mercy. No soul. Just cold, burning betrayal.

“Tu hai scavato la tua fossa con le tue mani. Ora prega che io non ci sputi dentro prima di seppellirti.”

[“You dug your grave with your own hands. Now pray I don’t spit in it before I bury you.”]

Click.

The trigger pulled halfway.