“How do you know that?” she whispers.
“Lucky guess.” I shrug.
“Why do I get the impression that nothing is ever actually a lucky guess when it comes to you?”
A trace of dark humor slips through my voice as I drag my thumb across her lips. “Goodnight, Gabriela. Sleep well.”
18
ROMEO
[ENTRY 006] — TERRITORY ENFORCEMENT
> Threat assessment: imminent proximity breach.
> Relevance: zero.
> Risk: check restraint.
> Correction: systematic destruction initiated.
> Method: Artistic intervention.
Sleeping like a baby.
I scrollthrough the photos attached to the text—a catalog of Riccardo in progressively humiliating scenes. If I didn’t know any better, I would think Jasmine and Honey got creative tonight. But following my directive, his favorite escorts flipped the script on him. These bizarre ideas came straight from Riccardo’s own playbook.
In the process of excavating his life, I’ve learned he gets off on degrading women. He pays a hefty sum twice a week to feed his habit, but I can’t imagine there’s enough money in the world that can make fucking him worthwhile.
He's an insecure little prick, and the thought of him entertaining these fantasies about Gabi sends me into a rage. I already knew I’d never let him touch her, but to see this level of depravity is disturbing—even for someone who guts people for a living.
There are images of him bent over, head stuffed inside a toilet bowl, covered in piss. Sharpie’d insults all over his body. Electrostimulation—to his balls. Random objects up his ass, including but not limited to: chili peppers, raw ginger, and a dildo the size of a fist. Eating food off the floor and being gagged until he vomits. Feet inside his mouth. And more I really have no desire to see.
Granted, he was drugged to ensure his participation, but photos last forever, and now I have even more leverage to fuck up his life. If these are his usual Friday night activities, I can only imagine what he might subject a wife to. I’d be doing the world a favor by erasing him from this plane of existence. The thought has already cemented itself in my mind, but timing is an issue.
It’s a delicate balance, letting Gabi think this arranged marriage is still happening while simultaneously trying to keep Riccardo away from her. In the beginning, it was to keep her from growing attached to Eros. The meetings with Riccardo were less frequent then, so it was easier to throw a wrench in his plans. Now that he’s pissing circles around her, it’s a fucking problem.
Angelo is still in negotiations with the senator, using Emilio as the liaison. If I kill Riccardo now, it will fuck up his plans, and my brother won’t be pleased. So in the interim, I’ll just have to make every day Riccardo spends on this earth a miserable existence.
I send Jasmine and Honey a thumbs-up with a coded confirmation that payment has been made to their accounts. With that out of the way, I let myself into Riccardo’s high-riseapartment and smoke a blunt as I watch him drool all over the floor, oblivious to my presence.
Once I’m calm enough not to murder him here and now, I get to work, opening my bag with the tattoo kit and removing what I need.
I start on his lower back, inking an intentionally sloppy tramp stamp that reads: Property of Washington State Correctional Facility.
With that done, I move on, inking enough random shit on him that it will keep him busy at the laser clinic for a while.
I add a teardrop tattoo to his face, a live, love, laugh slogan on his bicep, a caricature of him crying to his chest, and for good measure—an ejaculating penis behind his ear where he’s unlikely to notice it right away.
I could stop there, but in a spur-of-the-moment decision, I also add some finger tattoos in big, gaudy lettering that reads: Con Man.
I’m sure his investors will love that one.
When I’m finished, I use his home office to print off the photos from tonight and scatter them around his apartment like confetti.
I’ll let him sweat on it awhile, wondering what exactly the escorts plan to do with that evidence. For now, I send them a bonus of one million dollars each from his bank account.
After I leave him to wake up to his nightmare, I head to the slip where he keeps his boat. I add some water to the fuel tank and call it a day, figuring all of that should keep him so busy tomorrow he won’t show up.
