“We don’t want money, Don Cardone.” Licciardi meets my stare. “The families are united in this. We want the girl back in New York where she belongs. This was not well done. This was not what we had agreed to. You should have come to us, told us your plans, at least out of respect?—”
“You speak of respect?” I talk quietly and force them all to lean slightly closer to hear me. “You come to my island. You smoke my cigars. You drink my wine. You fuck my girls. Now you’re demanding things of me? A man above you all? That is not respect. That is not how things are done.”
“With all respect, Don Cardone, we don’t really give a shit how things are typically done. We want the girl.” Pasutto crosses his arms over his gut and leans back, sneering at me.
It’s a step too far. Everyone knows it. Licciardi flinches as if struck, and Trentino stares with barely concealed frustration. I slowly climb to my feet and gesture at the door.
“Russo and Pasutto, stay. You two, get out.”
“Don Cardone—” Licciardi starts, but Lucy cuts him off.
“Either stand and leave or I’ll kill you myself.” Her voice is completely calm, and I don’t doubt she means it.
The Dons clearly know better than to argue with her. Licciardi and Trentino are taken away, though not before they shoot Pasutto a deadly look.
Once the others are safely away, I move around the table toward the only remaining crime lord.
He’s one of the most powerful men in New York. That makes him a formidable human being. But I’ve seen much worse in the slums of my childhood.
“Don Cardone, I apologize. Sometimes I let my big mouth get the best of me?—”
I smash my palm across Pasutto’s face. His cheek cracks, and his chin snaps sideways. “Speak again, and I’ll kill you.”
He stares, mouth hanging open. I wonder when someone last dared to touch him out of turn. “You can’t strike me, you jumped-up?—”
I close my fist and break it across his jaw. He groans in pain as he topples from his chair. I’m on him, hitting and hitting, blood splattering my fists as I release a primal growl. Pasutto’s old, soft body yields to me like a lover, and I break him like one.My fists find teeth, cartilage, and bone. They find soft spots and weaknesses. I work him over and relish every sob of pain.
It feels fucking good to work with my hands.
When I’m done, Pasutto’s a bloody mess. He’s wheezing through a collapsed throat. His jaw’s dislocated, his nose is nearly ripped from his face, and his eyes are swollen shut. I suspect half his ribs are pulverized. He might not survive. I find I don’t care.
“Who are they working for?” I’m staring at the mess that is Don Pasutto, but I’m talking to Allie’s father.
The man stammers his reply. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“They come to my island like they’re much more powerful than they are. You didn’t wonder about that?”
“I thought… we had justice on our side, and maybe…” He trails off. I look at him, struggling to conceal the disgust I feel. This pathetic man is the leader of his family, and he didn’t see that he was being used. The New York families don’t care about his daughter. She’s just a pretext.
“There are bigger struggles happening than your petty problems, Don Russo.” I nudge Pasutto with my toe. One of the most powerful men in the world brought low. He squirms and squeals like a crying toddler. “Tell me who they’re working with.”
“I don’t know!”
I kneel on Pasutto. He tries to struggle, but there’s no fight left in him. I wrap my hands around his fleshy throat and stare into Russo’s eyes. “Tell me.”
“I swear, Don Cardone, on my daughter’s life?—”
“She isn’t yours to use any longer.” I dig my fingers into Pasutto’s neck. Blood wells up around my fingernails as I begin to strangle him. The old man thrashes against me, struggling to stay alive. Some animal instinct is still buried in his soft, shattered body. I don’t let go. I barely feel his blows.
“They mentioned someone,” Russo says desperately. “Please, don’t kill him. If you do, my patron?—”
“Tell me who.”
“It was a Russian name!” Russo drops to his knees, pleading. “I beg you, don’t kill him. I fear the families will war over his territory. The power vacuum will be terrible, and the Pasuttos are my only allies. Without their work?—”
I tighten my grip on the old fuck’s neck. “Tell me the name.”
“Medved! They said it was Medved!”
