Page 10 of Dishonored

Jac had posed the question as though it was their clan having the trouble. Like they had found themselves in a pot of stirred shit by-proxy. She assumed, just from that alone, her father didn’t know it was actually her who had started this street war with a rival family.

She had her reasons.

None she was willing to share.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Aria replied. “And I am—handling it, I mean.”

Jac nodded, but he didn’t look entirely convinced. So was the way of a standing-boss, but even more so when she had a pussy between her thighs instead of a cock. It was fine and dandy for her to relay her father’s messages, or make an order because he gave it to her to pass along. But anything else, and a Camorra woman had to work ten times as hard as any man to gain the respect, and acknowledgement of those around her.

That was fine.

She didn’t mind the work.

“I’ll be out soon,” her father said. “Six months left, mia cara. In the meantime, work on peacefully settling whatever problema the Accardo Cosa Nostra has with us. Do not entice or incite them more. I don’t want to come out of this place to total chaos.”

“Whatever you want, Papy.”

Jac smiled. “Good. Now, how is Raffe?”

And just like that—with all of one question—she wished she could leave.

Except she couldn’t.

The thing about Camorra was that there was no real structure to their organization. There was, of course, what Aria’s father liked to refer to as the cielo coperto, and the cielo scoperto. The covered sky, and the clear sky.

Within their clan, the covered sky was anyone with a direct connection to the top, or a proper position that they were required to handle. Her father, obviously, being the boss even behind bars, and her, acting as the boss while he was away could be put in the cielo coperto. She, and her father, were il Vangelo of the Camorra—the gospel.

When they spoke, they were heard.

Any man who dealt directly with them—only a handful—were also under the designation of being protected by the covered sky.

The cielo scoperto encompassed the larger breadth of their clan, and held less loyalty to the Camorra succeeding as a whole. They were more prone to violence, and at times, were liable to attempt to break off and begin an entirely separate clan of their own.

It was exactly why clans often found themselves in the bloodiest of battles. No clan answered to another, and there was no hierarchy beyond an us and them situation.

Aria had always thought that given how long her father had managed to control and sustain his Camorra, Jac had been given every opportunity to clean up the ranks. To manage it better, or even, take their horizontal structure into a more pyramid style situation so that fewer problems came up with rival clans.

It meant cleaner streets.

Less spilled blood.

Fewer deaths.

But it was also not the way of Camorra, and the men who only knew the life that they had been taught for decades upon decades were not quite ready to give up the stronghold they had on old traditions.

Shame, really.

Camorra could be so much more.

Aria knew it.

She felt it.

Tasted it on her tongue.

It was all right there.

And she could do it.