A Lesson in Respect

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His debt was paid, but not in money. As Jordan Zarroh, boss of the Loco Mob, a gang in Tremont New York City, had his brains splattered across his kitchen floor, those around him all learned an important lesson. A lesson in respect.

"It's done." a cold, stern voice announced from the other side of the phone. "Good job. I'll send someone down there with the agreed amount." As he hung up the phone, a wave of relief flew by him. This was Bobby Musetti, boss of the Musetti crime family, and a member of the Black Council of the Trident. "Hey Marino, do me a favour. Go down to Bay Ridge, give this to Giancarlo's guys down there." Bobby said as he handed Marino Salanardo, a soldier, a large briefcase from behind his desk. "Sure boss. I'll be right back." As Marino grabbed the briefcase, a bartender knocked on the door. The office was at the back of the "Black Horse" bar and lounge, which is owned and run by one of Musetti's capos. Christian walked over to open the door "What's the problem now?" "Sorry to interrupt you guys, but there are two guys here and, well, they have the Trident crest." As soon as the bartender finished the sentence, both Christian and Bobby looked at each other. They knew there was a problem, as He would never send soldiers unless there was a problem. Bobby wasn't too scared though. He had no issues with the other high ranking members of the Trident, as far as he knew.

"Well, let them in I guess," Bobby said. The bartender left and told the two men to go in. They walked in, and just as they did, Christian left. "So boys, to what do I owe the pleasure?" One of the men took off their all-black fedora, revealing slick back, jet black hair. We're here to pick you up. The boss is having a meeting with the Five Families." Bobby was relieved. He didn't know what the meeting was for, but he was sure he would find out soon. "Alright then, let me get my coat," Bobby said with a smile. The men brought him to the car, and had him sit in the front seat. There was another man behind him, wearing gloves that Bobby did not see. Halfway through the ride, Bobby got a phone call. It was from Him. The Boss of the entire Trident Syndicate, that ran 90% of America. "Hello?" Bobby knew who it was, and answered with a stutter. "It's me, Bobby." The voice was calm and raspy, sounding like his mouth was covered by something, which it was. "I might as well tell you now, you're not coming to the meeting, because there is no meeting. See, the guy you just had killed about an hour ago, was a guy I put on that block. This is the second time you've killed one of my own, and it is the last person you will ever have killed." Just as this was said, Bobby realized what was about to happen. the car pulled up on the side of a small block, where there was another Trident member waiting outside one of the cracked down houses. Before he could move, a garret was thrown over Bobby's neck, suffocating him. he struggled hard, and the man over the phone heard the entire thing. After a gruelling 15 seconds, Bobby took his last breath. After it was done, the driver picked up the phone, as the two in the back got out and began dragging the body out. "It's all done, Leader." "Good. Dispose of the body and return here. Also, make sure nobody heard or saw anything there. You got that?" He then hung up the phone. It was done. A boss in the council had been killed, and in a couple of minutes, Christian would be shot as he brought the suitcase as well. Though it was a controversial move, Leader was happy. His message got across perfectly, to never fail the Trident and believe you're above any punishments. Sitting in his large, expansive office, with his large round table, three-screen computer, luxurious sofas and chairs, all at the top of his personal 20 story tall head office, was Leader. The King of Bosses. The First Spear of the Trident, and most feared mobster in North America. It was this man, that brought the Trident, from a small mob family, to the largest criminal Empire to ever exist. Now, he had made his point, and ruthlessness clear; do not ever disrespect Francesco Lenosico, or as most people call him, Leader.

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