Bad Bishop by L.J. Shen - 1
Don Machiavelli “Vello” Ferrante was dying. It was the worst-kept secret in the Mafia. His diagnosis was a mystery, his decline rapid; death scratched its pointy claws on his door. Penetrated the paper-thin, yellowing leather of his skin. Drip-drip-dripped from his dim, dry eyes. It was pathetic— un...
Don Machiavelli “Vello” Ferrante was dying.
It was the worst-kept secret in the Mafia.
His diagnosis was a mystery, his decline rapid; death scratched its pointy claws on his door.
Penetrated the paper-thin, yellowing leather of his skin.
Drip-drip-dripped from his dim, dry eyes.
It was pathetic— unacceptable , even—that he reeked of it.
The stench of dysfunctional liver and kidneys exuding from his shriveling body.
The putrid breath.
The unraveling of his mortal existence.
Vello hated games, with the exception of chess.
He was a master chess player.
Chess was good. Smart. Strategic.
Chess was war .
You conquered and divided. Captured and ruined.
Most importantly, chess was fair.
All of it wouldn’t have mattered, if Don Vello wasn’t important.
As it happened, he was the big boss. The ruler of New York.
Being the head of the Ferrante Camorra clan meant he was free to choose whoever he saw the most fit to be his successor.
There was Luca, his oldest son and natural heir. Part aristocrat, part horseman. Calculated and quiet. Smooth and cold as marble.
Achilles, his middle son. Feared by all and loved by none. A Greek warrior. A monster that contorted itself into the form of a human, always one moment away from bursting at the seams.
And Enzo, his youngest son. With the warm, whiskey eyes and pliant nature. Far too handsome than any man had the right to be. The charmer. The persuader .
Now there was his son-in-law, too, thanks to Lila’s marriage. Though he seemed too unhinged to reign over anything that wasn’t hell.
And then there was his favorite. His secret son. His golden boy. Essere il Beniamino.
Not a high-born Ferrante, but capable nonetheless.
He’d come into play. But not now. Not yet .
He had a rook and a knight, a bishop and a king. A few pawns, and a queen.
Vello stared at the Battle of Waterloo chess set in his office, stroking his chin with the little energy he had left.
He could live like this for months. Maybe even years. But he knew when he wanted to die, and how. All he needed was to appoint his successor.
One of them was going to take his place. To lay claim to his blood-soaked territory.
From the entire East Coast to Naples, Italy.
Become the don of the Camorra. The indisputable ruler of the underworld.
But who ?
Luca
Achilles
Enzo
Tiernan
Essere il beniamino