Page 79 of The Beast Who Begged Me

Caligula doesn’t look his way when he speaks next. He keeps his eyes on Gallo. “It’s true, the mark runs deep,” he says. “But it’s not permanent. Show them, Dami.”

I start unbandaging my hand. The gauze sticks where the stitches have wept. I peel it back slow, the sterile pad Rosa laid over them coming away edge by edge. Then I hold my hand up and let him see what’s underneath.

I make sure Ferraro sees it, too.

Gallo goes still. “Holy shit.” Then a genuine laugh escapes him, surprised loose. “So you went from a Gee to a Cee, huh?”

I look down at my own hand.

He’s right.

The letter that used to mark me as Caligula’s enemy is going to scar into a new shape. That cut-out “G” tattoo will close up into a scarred “C.”

Caligula takes my wrist. His thumb follows the curve, slow and careful of the stitches, and the underside of his ring rests against my skin. Ferraro is staring, but my attention stays on Caligula.

I turn my hand enough to catch his fingers and hold them for a second before he lets go.

“You want me to cut mine off, too?” Gallo’s gone a little pale, but resolve is crawling into his face. “If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it. I’m done with the Gees, and if there’s a way out, I’ll take it. I don’t like what happened to Seb Conti, and every fucker who turned on him broke their vows, far as I’m concerned. Big Gee’s been turning brother on brother, and the whole thing…fuck, it just makes me sick.”

He stops running his mouth and looks down again, worrying he’s said too much. Ferraro is still watching as I smooth the pad back over the wound and start to wrap it up again.

“You can leave your mark for now, Gallo,” Caligula tells him. “In fact, you might need it. Because there’s another way you can prove your loyalty.”

That snaps Ferraro’s attention away from my hand, and the look he gives me says I should be putting a stop to this.

“Over here,” I say, beckoning him aside. I give a nod to Vito to move closer in as Caligula continues his conversation with Gallo.

We’re barely out of earshot before Ferraro starts. “You can’t seriously agree we should let that asshole go.”

“The other Gees were gone before he turned on Russo,” I tell him. “Only our men saw him do it.”

“So?” Ferraro demands.

“So they don’t know he’s turned. And we don’t have many soldiers yet. If he can bring us a few who worked under Seb, it’s worth a try.”

“Not if he’s bringing them over here to put a bullet in Don Clemenza. I don’t care if he killed his Capo. He’s still a Gee.”

“According to you, so am I.”

“Well,” he mutters, “maybe you’re not so much anymore. But that doesn’t mean the rest of them are like you. Maybe you want to trust him because you know the guy, don’t want to kill him…”

He’s getting my temper up now. “If he turns on us, I’ll put him down myself. But maybe we can use him.”

“And if Big Gee can offer him something better?” Ferraro asks. “No. We can’t let him walk out of here.”

“It’s not your call, Strike,” says a cold, imperious voice. Caligula has appeared at his elbow, making Ferraro jump. “It’s mine.”

Ferraro straightens. “Yes, Don Clemenza.”

We all walk back toward Gallo, who’s slumped forward in the chair, studying his shoelaces.

He looks up and gives us a grin despite his pale face. “This is the worst job interview I’ve ever had,” he tries.

No one laughs. Caligula stands in front of him, looking down. “You said there are men who might leave if they knew they had somewhere to go. I want you to go back to your Family. Talk to these men. Bring me their names, and I’ll decide whether there’s a place for them with us.”

Gallo nods slowly. “I can do that,” he says. “There are a few I can think of already.”

“I’ll give you a week. Come back on New Year’s Day ready to swear to me, or leave the state.”