Blood and Betrayal

Vincent "Vinnie" Russo never wanted to be a big shot. He was content being an enforcer, cracking skulls when necessary, collecting debts when the boss demanded. Life was simple: follow orders, keep your mouth shut, and don’t get greedy. But in the underworld, even the best-laid plans go to hell sooner or later.

It all started when Dominic "Dom" Caruso, the right-hand man to the city’s most feared crime boss, Salvatore "Big Sal" Romano, slid into Vinnie’s usual booth at Tony’s Diner. The place smelled like burnt coffee and desperation, the kind of joint where guys like Vinnie talked business without worrying about prying ears.

Dom lit a cigarette, took a slow drag, and exhaled. "Vinnie, let’s cut the crap. You ever think about moving up?"

Vinnie frowned. "I do my job. I don’t ask questions."

"That’s why I like you," Dom said, tapping ash into the cheap glass ashtray. "And that’s why I got an opportunity for you. Big Sal? He’s getting sloppy. The Feds are breathing down his neck, and his time’s running out. I’m thinking someone’s gotta take over before the whole empire crumbles."

Vinnie stiffened. "You’re talking treason, Dom. That ain’t smart."

Dom smirked. "Neither is sticking with a sinking ship. Look, I got backers. Money. Power. We take out Sal, and I run things. You? You get a big cut and a seat at the table."

Vinnie ran a hand down his face. A move like this didn’t come without consequences. He’d seen plenty of guys make power grabs only to wind up in a trunk somewhere. But Dom wasn’t wrong—Sal was slipping. The old man had been reckless, too trusting.

"What happens if I say no?" Vinnie asked.

Dom flicked his cigarette into his half-empty cup of coffee. "Then you’re either with us or against us. And I don’t think you wanna be against us."

That night, Vinnie sat in his apartment, staring at the gun on his kitchen table. He’d sworn loyalty to Big Sal. But loyalty only got you so far. He thought about his future—did he want to spend the rest of his life being a disposable thug, or did he want something bigger?

The next morning, Vinnie showed up at Dom’s warehouse. The deal was in motion. "We do it tomorrow night. Sal won’t see it coming," Dom said, grinning.

Tomorrow night came fast. Too fast. Vinnie found himself in Sal’s penthouse, standing beside Dom as they waited for the old man to show up.

Sal entered, fixing his tie, looking tired but still every bit the king of the underworld. "What’s this about, Dom? I got things to do."

Dom pulled his gun. "Yeah, and one of them is dying."

Sal didn’t even flinch. He just sighed, shaking his head. "I should’ve known."

Vinnie pulled his own gun, aiming it at Sal. His hands didn’t shake, but his gut churned. Sal had been good to him once. "Sorry, boss."

Sal smirked. "No, you ain’t."

Then, before Dom could pull the trigger, Sal moved. Fast. Too fast for a man his age. He knocked Dom’s gun aside, reached into his jacket, and fired. Dom crumpled to the ground, blood pooling beneath him.

Vinnie stood frozen as Sal turned to him. "What’s it gonna be, kid? You with me or with the corpse?"

Vinnie hesitated. Then, slowly, he lowered his gun. "With you, boss. Always."

Sal chuckled, lighting a cigar. "That’s what I thought. Clean this up. And Vinnie? Next time someone offers you a deal against me… shoot first."

Vinnie nodded, swallowing hard. He had made his choice. Loyalty wasn’t about honor—it was about survival. And in this world, only the smart ones lived long enough to tell the tale.