“Don’t make me shoot you.”
Maximus smirks at me. “Say what you want, but you can’t lie to me. I spent my whole life watching and looking up to you, even if you’re only three years older. So when I say Carina Nardone has gotten under your skin, you can take that to the fucking bank.”
I grab my cock. “You can takethisto fucking bank. Are you finished?”
“Are you going to do anything stupid?”
“No. You?”
“Nope,” he says. Maximus flips the safety off his weapon. “Let’s kill this motherfucker.”
I blow out a breath. “Finally, you’re saying something that’s not bullshit.”
My brother keeps in step with me once we exit the vehicle and make our way to the rear entrance of the suburban home. There are no lights on inside, except the one coming from the television screen. It flickers as the scene changes, but stays at a consistent brightness.
We walk the perimeter of the house, pressed against the wall, and halt once we reach the back door. I slowly grip and turn the doorknob, finding it locked. Maximus shifts closer to cover my back while I retrieve my lock picking tools and concentrate on getting us access. People like to imagine someone kicking in doors because it’s exciting, but I prefer not to alert the target of my presence. It maintains the element of surprise, which is advantageous.
And it helps to avoid getting shot. Which is also handy.
The lock gives and I quickly pocket the tools in exchange for my weapon. After tapping Maximus on his shoulder, I take hold of the knob and twist until I can easily push the door open with little noise. I’m the first to enter, not only because this man is my “hit,” but so my brother has a chance to escape if I’m caught unaware.
I had Danny look up this guy with an hour of Caruso saying his name. There’s been nothing suspect going on with Ugo Nardone, other than the usual activities that come with being a low-level drug dealer, but I wasn’t taking any chances.
This fucker is mine.
And I wanted to make sure I wasn’t interrupted. Hence, Maximus tagging along.
We tread lightly through the kitchen, our rubber soles as quiet as though we’re stepping on a newly dug grave. When we reach the hallway, each of us searches the vacant rooms until we arrive outside the master bedroom. My pulse is like a drum, pounding out a cadence that heralds the agony and death yet to come. This is my personal battlefield and the man is more than my enemy. During times of war, prisoners are traded or released, but this man won’t receive that from me. What I’m going to do to him will closely resemble the torture spies go through when caught on enemy territory.
The high volume of sound from the TV is now the soundtrack to this man’s upcoming death. It’ll bring back pleasant memories of this night, when I exacted revenge on Carina’s behalf. I wonder what her reaction would be if she knew what I was about to do? In the end, it won’t matter because I’m not telling her. There’s no reason to drudge up the pain of her past.
I flick my gaze to find my brother’s already on me. With a single nod to him, and Maximus doing the same, we’re ready. My blood rushes through me, heating my already blazing wrath.
We file into the room and Ugo rolls over to reach for his firearm but is preempted by Maximus cocking his weapon. That sound is more effective than any other, promising loss of life. It visibly arrests the man and he freezes with his hand mid-air.
“Tsk. Tsk.” I shake my head but keep my smile in place. It’s sinister, like my mood and my intentions. “We’re not here for a gun fight, Ugo. Just information and a satisfactory outcome.”
My brother, already used to my theatrical antics, doesn’t bat an eye, but I know it’s hard for him to maintain his stoic expression, instead of giving in to the exasperation he’s no doubt experiencing.
“Who the hell are you?” Ugo asks. He slowly—because of our weapons pointed in his direction—gets into a sitting position. “What do you want?”
“All in good time,amico. Let me ask you a question first. Are you familiar with the Nardone family, perchance?”
His eyes dart between me and Maximus as though assessing his options while he answers me. “You can’t move in the underworld without knowing who the head families are. So, yeah, I know them. You rivals?”
I shake my head. “No. In fact, I’m looking to build an alliance with them.”
“Paolo Nardone is a evil son of a bitch, but he’s a good businessman.” Ugo pauses for a moment, weighs something in his mind, and then speaks again. “I used to be an enforcer for Nardone.”
“Used to be? What did you do?”
Maximus cocks his head. “More importantly, how are you still alive if you’re no longer on his payroll?”
“Quite right,” I say. “Enlighten us.”
Ugo licks his lips, whether from greed or nervousness. It’s hard to say. “Nardone owed me a life debt.”
“So what?” I scoff. “Your loyalty to your boss means you could incur a number of those throughout your life. Why would that make any difference to him?”
