Joe the hit Man: Four

De: Paul Block

Narrado por: Virtual Voice

The air in the back room of the dimly lit Italian restaurant was thick with the scent of stale garlic and unspoken threats. Vinnie “The Hammer” Moretti, a man whose reputation preceded him like a bad omen, leaned back in his chair, a half-empty glass of wine swirling in his hand. His eyes, dark and shrewd, scanned the faces of the men seated before him. George Topsfield, his usual veneer of polite composure strained, fidgeted with the cuff of his expensive shirt. Across from him sat Marco, Vinnie’s enforcer, a hulking brute with a face carved from granite and eyes that held the unsettling calm of a predator.

"Gentlemen," Vinnie began, his voice a low growl that commanded attention, "we've been over the situation. Topsfield here," he gestured with his chin towards George, "has made some… mistakes. Errors in judgment that have put us all in a precarious position."

George swallowed hard, his gaze fixed on the checkered tablecloth. He’d expected this. Ever since Anya Sharma and young Liam Henderson had vanished, he’d been a knot of fear, a loose end Vinnie was all too eager to tie up. His involvement, however indirect, had been discovered, and now he was being squeezed.

"But mistakes can be rectified," Vinnie continued, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "We have a chance to clean house. To ensure that no one ever connects us to this mess. And it starts with Zack Godfrey."

George’s head snapped up. Zack Godfrey. The name sent a jolt of cold dread through him. Godfrey was a small-time hustler, a snitch who’d been causing Vinnie’s organization a significant amount of grief. He’d been selling information, not just to the cops, but to rival outfits, playing a dangerous game for a few extra dollars. Vinnie had warned him, had sent veiled threats, but Godfrey, foolishly, had continued his treachery.

"Godfrey knows too much," Vinnie explained, his voice hardening. "He’s a liability. And if he’s discovered talking, it all comes back to us. To

this," he gestured vaguely, encompassing the entire operation, the delicate balance of power they’d so carefully constructed. "So, Godfrey has to go. Permanently."

George’s stomach churned. He understood the implication. Vinnie wasn’t just ordering a hit; he was ordering George to be the one to carry it out. This wasn't about protecting the organization; it was about further entrenching George in their world, making him complicit beyond any hope of escape. It was a twisted form of insurance, binding him tighter to Vinnie’s illicit empire.