My Tragic Mafia Life | ✔️

28

Josephine tilted her head, golden hair falling with the shift. "What about his parents? How is he with his siblings?" Anything to find his vulnerability would do. "What are they like?"

This time, Beatriz delivered the bad news. "Find out yourself."

Josephine bit her lip, annoyed, but swallowed any badgering. They were doing her a favor with a free glimpse into their knowledge. "Great. So, I understand we know Camillo's a bit of manwhore," A nod. "Did he ever have a traumatic relationship that scarred him? This may be a bit blunt, but it would be easiest to explain why the way that he is."

Beatriz shrugged. "All we know is that Camillo loves his women. He's known to be with a new girl every once in a while. There's rarely any relationships, but if there are, they only last a month or two. There's no sort of pattern, only that the girls are pretty and naive."

"So you don't know anything about his romantic life," Josephine gathered. All the information she already knew, Beatriz had repeated. Love was a weakness. Weaknesses were vital information. However, it made sense.

If there was no love, there was no vulnerability. And nothing to use against him.

Josephine groaned, needing to head into another direction. "Then what about his life in the mafia? If he doesn't have any romantic trauma, he probably has some in the death department." Exactly like Dante. "Tell me about it."

Dante simply said. "No."

Josephine seethed internally. "How about his work? What does he keep himself busy with?"

"You don't need to know that either," Beatriz replied.

Josephine groaned. "Any hobbies?"

"Women."

"Besides the obvious."

"Figure it out yourself."

Besides her persistence and utmost fail, she had suspicion to believe Dante wanted their discussion over and to return to his work. Josephine darted her eyes to the naked documents, now unguarded. There were heaps of papers, photographs of weapons and various surroundings seemingly from an empty room, angled from high and low. Josephine's eyes widened. They were images of a crime scene.

Hugo Valencio's grave.

"How is Camillo's family connected to your own? What did the Russo's do that makes you guys hate each other so much?" She pondered over multiple possibilities, each grim and cruel that could possibly fit into their mafia world, and came up with no exact reasoning. She waited for Dante to fill her in on the necessary details.

"The Blood Sinner's have been our life-long enemies for as long as I can remember. Camillo is set to become their leader, and I, the leader of the Black Devils. That makes our feud much more personal, especially with what they've done."

"Yes, you've said that already. But that's not what I asked," Josephine said, sucking her teeth.

"That's all I'm going to tell you," Dante bit.

Why bother telling her anything then? Josephine was annoyed at his sway in conversation. Perhaps his icy exterior was relative to his upbringing. It would explain everything. Josephine couldn't dream of becoming the future of a mafia. She could compare to their pressure in terms of her father's business, but it would pale to the sense of death experienced. However, she still hated his subversions. She cut the chase.

"Do you really think Camillo murdered Hugo?" Josephine blurted.

Beatriz stilled. Dante looked enraged at the mention of his brother's name. "That has nothing to do with making him fall in love with you."