Work Text:
"Did you hear about the Budino family getting taken down by the Guardia di Finanza? Pretty wild, huh? Imagine being defeated by the financial police. I didn't know Finanza were so brutal."
"Another nest of ants demolished, even before we could turn our attention to them. Soon they shall all crumble before Passione." Diavolo allowed himself a moment of pride, then realized that Doppio was worrying, not gloating. "I do hope you're not disappointed that you weren't able to destroy them yourself, my dear Doppio. Plenty more foes lay before us. If others wish to fight our battles for us, it is only to our eventual benefit."
Doppio laughed at that, relaxed a little bit further into the bed of tonight's hotel. "I'm not disappointed! Anything that makes you safer makes me happy, Boss. It just made me wonder…,"
"Yes, my Doppio?"
"Should I be paying taxes?"
Ah. Hm. Diavolo did not like being asked questions to which he did not know the answer. Fortunately, Doppio took his silence as judgment rather than uncertainty. His underboss soldiered forward.
"It's just, you do pay me, technically." Usually in the form of cash left in Doppio's pockets whenever Diavolo remembered, occasionally in the form of prepaid cards and caches of valuables hidden for Doppio to find in a moment of need. "But there's not really a paper trail the way you do it, and obviously we couldn't report our activities to the government. On the other hand, if the Budinos went down for financial crimes, I don't want to risk losing Passione to the same thing. We're a lot more powerful than they were, but Finanza is military. We could beat them, but it might attract attention…,"
"Finanza are mere men. We are gods, Doppio. Do not concern yourself with the financials of Passione. And do not attempt to pay taxes." That would require things like documentation and proof of identity which made Diavolo's skin crawl, even when the skin was currently Doppio's.
"You got it, boss! Although… I've been doing a little research about the mafia, and I meant to ask - am I both the underboss and the consigliere? Normally that's two different people, but I'm pretty sure I'm doing both jobs. Which is great! But I want to make sure I fully understand my duties, here."
Research. Doppio got these little fixations occasionally, wanting to learn more about the world despite the irrelevance of most of it to his work. This one was more relevant than most, which made it both more tolerable and more dangerous. Diavolo would need to keep him busier for the next few weeks until he forgot whatever thought had driven him towards research.
"I have no need of a consigliere. Why would I need any counsel but my own? Whose counsel could have any value to one like me?"
Doppio was silent for a moment. Not good. Diavolo let his consciousness seep a little further into Doppio's body and felt all the squelching sensations inherent to life - but alongside those, a tightness in the chest, a prickling in the eyes. Not good at all. Diavolo retreated and attempted a new tactic.
"I have no need of a consigliere because I have you, my most loyal and dedicated underboss. My adorable Doppio. My sweet -,"
"I get it, Boss." Doppio spoke sharply, but his next words were much more lightly delivered. "So I am your consigliere, basically."
"If you desire the title, it is yours."
"Consigliere Doppio… eh, I'm not sure it really works. Besides, people might get weirded out if the same guy is doing both jobs, you know? Might look like favoritism."
"Who would know?" Besides, Doppio was his favorite. A king who could not indulge in egregious nepotism was no king at all.
"Good point." Doppio had relaxed again, which was a relief. Diavolo trusted Doppio's loyalty entirely, but Doppio's emotions were more volatile; they needed careful tending which Diavolo was often unequipped to deliver. Fortunately, Doppio was always very forgiving, so long as he could be reassured he belonged entirely to Diavolo.
"Then, my darling consigliere, do you have any counsel for me this evening?"
Diavolo had intended this as a jest, a lighthearted ending to a fraught conversation. Doppio had other plans. "Well, as you know, the consigliere is often the financial advisor to the gang as well, so I was wondering if you wanted to discuss the financial health of Passione -,"
"I do not. Goodbye, Doppio."
"Aw, okay. Goodbye, Boss." Blessedly, Doppio hung up without any further prying.
Doppio had already provided counsel of an indirect sort this evening. Not financially - Diavolo had no intention of revealing the financials of Passione to anyone, nor did he intend to start paying taxes. He was Italian, for God's sake. Even if his identity was not so exquisitely confidential, he wouldn't pay taxes, just as a matter of principle. Passione was not nearly as profitable as an organization of its size could be, simply because Diavolo would rather lose a billion lira in potential revenue than leave one hanging thread that could be traced back to him.
No, the counsel Doppio had provided took a much simpler form. If the Guardia di Finanza began sniffing around Passione, then Passione would destroy them. No force on Earth could stand against Diavolo, not even taxation. Once the financial police were destroyed, the world itself would be his.