A group of men sat around a conference table in a dimly lit office space in Paramus, New Jersey. The group of four were unnervingly large and fit. A slideshow of brutal murders was playing, each body more grotesque and disfigured than the last. Heads were stuck on spikes in front yards with their tongues and eyes missing, mutilated bodies hung from street lamps in abandoned alleyways and entire rooms of men were displayed with their throats slashed and bodies riddled with bullet holes.
The eldest of the four men stood as the slideshow came to a gruesome end. Wearing an unassuming brown suit, his dark hair greying at his temples, he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “All of these murders have been committed in the past six months, ever since Marsia Luciano returned to the country, and waged war against her brother Gino Luciano.” He paused to massage his temples before continuing. “Although our informants have reported that Marsia has successfully usurped her brother’s position as head of the family, our international associates warned us not to expect a deescalation. There has also been grumblings of an uprising of the Irish mob, apparently they don’t respect this level of brutality if it stems from a woman.”
One of the three seated men, their faces shrouded by shadows, speaks up, &ldqu...