Only a bit of moonlight could cut through the clouds, then even less of it was able to filter through the wooden blanks that covered the windows of the Gordoli hideout. They didn’t have electricity since it was an old building, so the only light was from the candles and lanterns hanging from the ceiling or set on desks. The current leader of the Gordoli Family, Nick, gave a wet cough to rid his lungs of phlegm. Some of it got on the newspaper. Just the perfect splotch.

The face of a senator, Lenore Marquez, was only centimeters above where his spittle fell. How poetic? If he ever met that man face to face, he would spit on him.

Even though he was mafia, Nick Gordoli believed that crime should function in a certain way. They needed to be honorable. If you lived in the world of crime without upholding justice, you were just a criminal. But if you followed the rules, and created an ecosystem where people could live, you were something better. That made you mafia.

Of course, even the modern Cosa Nostra didn’t get it. They were shitheads. The thought of those bastards made Nick’s scar itch furiously. After being excommunicated months ago, they took a blade and worked it through his face, leaving a cut from the bottom of his jaw through his lip and up towards his eyebrow, almost like a question mark. They laughed when they did it.

Nobody was thinking right in these times. Everyone was too selfish, or too obsessed with simply surviving, that they weren’t taking note of honor and dignity. That was a crime in itself. These were the people Nick looked down on.

Lenore Marquez was one such person.

The senator didn’t commit any crimes openly. But he was easily bribed, and through his lack of push for crime reform, he abetted the foul residents of Paris in a far worse way. Through his actions, people could get through life just by being criminal. They were allowed to slack, which created an ecosystem unsustainable. It was disgusting. That was why he knew he had to do something about it.

“But that’s only part of the reason,” Bruno said. “Right?”

Bruno was Nick’s younger brother, the middle child, while Dominic was the youngest. Each one of them was separated only by a few years, and they had grown up as mafia.

“No, that’s not the only reason,” Nick said. He folded the newspaper. “Of course, there are other reasons. We need money, obviously. This can get us a fine amount. The most important thing to doing this, however, is the notereity we would gain from pulling this off without punishment. Our name would be heard throughout the streets. People would utter: ‘the Gordoli Family’, in the same way they utter names like ‘the Perona Family’ or ‘Jackal’. That’s more important than anything else.”

“But wouldn’t that be risky?” Dominic asked. He had a pained expression. Of the three brothers, who were all ugly, Dominic was the least ugly. What he did have was a large nose, sharp like a hook. While it wasn’t inherently unattractive, he had always been made fun of for it, and developed a complex. Underneath it was a thick mustache; each of the three brothers had facial hair of the same type. Every man in their gang had a mustache of some kind. It was part of their signature style. “Then we’d be making enemies…”

“If anyone tries to fuck with us, you know I’ll gut ‘em,” Bruno said. If Nick was the brains, Bruno was the brawn. He stood over two meters in height and was covered in fat and muscle. “Don’t gotta worry about that.”

“Nobody would mess with us if we were established, anyway. All we need to do is get some money and we’d be able to expand. The denizens of the underworld who understand our ideals would get it. As soon as they saw order and structure appearing under the Gordoli Family, they’d flock to us and ask for work. That’s how we grow.”

“Oh, I see.”

Bruno obviously didn’t understand, but he nodded anyway. Dominic just grimaced without saying anything.

“But we’re brothers, and that means we make decisions together,” Nick continued. He put his hand in the center of the dusty table they used for meeting and dinner. “Just because I think a plan is good doesn’t mean we do it. That’s not how a mafia works. We need to be in agreement, and we need to work together. That’s how we will tame these streets.”

His eyes were lit with passion. Not something Dominic could muster, so the youngest brother looked away. To him, crime was just crime. Another job to get through life. It seemed pointless to try and explain it as something good. It wasn’t good, and it wasn’t bad. It just was.

“Hell, you know that I’m in,” Bruno said, putting his hand on top of Nick’s. “It’s been way too boring. And this sounds fun.”

The two turned their attention to Dominic. He put his hand in with apprehension. He lacked everything his brothers had. A stupid and weak kid, who didn’t give anything back to his family. All he could do was whine and complain, but they never discarded him. He couldn’t voice these frustrations, and even he didn’t fully understand how he felt.

“Whatever,” was how he explained it. “As long as I don’t have to do anything too dangerous.”

“Pussy.”

“Fuck you!”

Dominic reached out to hit Bruno but was swatted away playfully. Even in tense moments like this where they decided to commit horrific crimes, there was a sense of playfulness. They were close enough to know each other's smells.

“Fantastic! I knew the two of you would understand,” Nick said with a smile. He coughed heavily for a few moments before continuing. “Then we should tell the rest of the guys. We should be able to pull this off by tomorrow night, according to the scouting I’ve done.”

“Tomorrow night?”

That seemed absurdly early to Dominic.

“How the hell are we going to do this without getting caught?”

“Tomorrow night is the perfect moment,” Nick explained. “Their family is always split up, and I’ve bought some good information off of a servant. Tomorrow morning, Lenore is going to be out of the city and won’t return until the day after. At the same time, his wife and daughter will be going out seeing a play. I’ve already checked, it’s close enough to our empty factory district that we can swipe the youngin’ and get away before getting caught, if we’re sneaky enough. And the son? Well, I’ve been tailing him myself for the past month, and he always goes to the same pub. So long as we just follow him and keep our faces covered, snatching him won’t be any trouble either.”