Better to be safe than sorry. Quietly and carefully, I extract the fake box of garlic powder from the cupboard and dump my entire arsenic stock into the mixture, stirring it around to ensure it’s disguised. After putting large helpings into four separate pasta bowls, I grate tons of parmesan on top. It should completely disguise any powder that might not have been fully absorbed.
I work hard to quell my nerves as I carry the bowls into the room and set them on the table before returning to grab silverware. They are drinking beer and playing cards at one end of the table, but they move up and take their seats, wasting no time tucking in.
“You’ll sit beside me.” Cesco pats the space where he used to sit beside his father at the head of the table.
I glare at him as I sit down, and he laughs as he twirls pasta around his fork using his spoon. I wipe my clammy hands down the front of my apron as I return to the kitchen to fetch my dinner.
I return to my seat and begin eating, forcing food down my throat as I grow increasingly concerned when nothing happens. Sweat coats the back of my neck as they all finish eating, patting their bellies and eyeing me like I’m dessert. “I’ll clean up.” My voice wobbles, and they laugh.
“Such a good wifey.” Cesco slides his hand between my thighs when I stand. “You deserve a reward for preparing such a delicious meal. How does a gangbang sound?”
His friends pound the table with their fists, whistling and howling and acting like the animals they are.
“Clean up and get dessert, and then we can party.” Cesco drives two fingers inside me, smirking as the stacked plates in my arms shake. He makes a meal of removing his fingers and sucking them into his mouth. He’s only sucking his own arousal because I’m dry as a bone.
I finally escape to the kitchen, contemplating stabbing them with the cake knife when a loud crash emanates from the dining room. Strangled shouts accompany subsequent crashing noises, and I creep toward the door, eyeing the scene through the gap. Relief pours through me as I watch all four men stumble to the floor, clutching their chests and gasping for air.
Finally.
Leave no room for error, a cold voice whispers in my ear, and I grab the cake knife and race into the dining room.
Cesco is first. He’s on the floor beside his overturned chair, still conscious and aware as I loom over him wearing a smirk. “You always underestimated me. I was poisoning you and Dom. You were always destined to die by my hand, but this way is a lot more fun.” I wave the knife in his face as he splutters and chokes, struggling to breathe.
His panicked eyes are bloodshot, set within a face that is slowly turning blue, as I slash the knife across his throat. It glides through his flesh more easily than I expected. Arterial blood sprays across my dress, but it’s the least of my worries. Cesco emits a last few garbled sounds, and then it’s lights out. I kick him between the legs. “Sayonara, asshole. Join your father in hell.”
I don’t spare him another thought, quickly attending to the other three and watching with sick satisfaction as their blood joins the large pool of blood already on the floor.
I don’t bother wiping my fingerprints or taking the knife with me as I flee the room. Fiero will send in a cleanup crew to take care of everything.
I can’t believe I just did that. I’m in a bit of a dazed state but cognizant enough to know what I need to do now.
My heart is careening around my chest as I take the creaky stairs two at a time. I search Cesco’s and Dom’s bedrooms in the hope of finding an old cell phone, but there’s nothing. None of the landlines in the house have service anymore, and the guys’ cells are all password protected, so I have no way of making a call. At least I find a gun, bullets, and enough spare cash for a taxi, which will work. Loading the bullets into the gun, I stuff it in the pocket of the hoodie I grab from my bedroom and hightail it down the stairs.
I exit the house through the rear doors because I don’t know where the van driver went. He could still be out front. Nightfall has descended, and I stick to the shadows as I slowly and carefully round the side of the house. I breathe a sigh of relief when the driveway is devoid of the van, confirming I’m alone. Passing the battered old Lincoln, I wonder if I should go back and try to locate the keys, but I can’t make myself reenter that house of horrors, so I take off running down the bumpy driveway and out through the gates.
I keep running, my limbs surging forward, powered by the urgency to get as far away from here as possible. No taxis appear because, of course, it would be too much to hope one would show up when I need it. So, I keep running, heading toward the nearest town. I just need to get tothe twenty-four-seven convenience store to buy a phone, and I can call Fiero to come get me.
A black SUV, approaching on the other side of the road, drives across the center of the road, screeching to a halt in front of me. Panic is instantaneous as my mind immediately thinks of the cartel. Whipping the gun out, I hold it in front of me and point it at the man climbing out of the passenger seat.
“Valentina. It’s okay. Fiero sent me.”
Yeah, right. “Who are you?” He looks vaguely familiar, but he’s not someone I know.
“I’m Davide Gallo. The board is planning to appoint me as don after they have spoken to Vitto. Your husband was the one who nominated me for the role.”
That has me pausing. Our marriage isn’t common knowledge, and apart from Fiero, me, and Cat, only the board knows. This seems to be legit, but I don’t lower my weapon.
“Vitto is dead. Diana too.”
Gallo’s eyes widen.
“Cesco did it.”
“Where is he, and do you need medical attention?” he asks, his eyes dipping to the blood coating my dress.
“Dead along with his friends.” I jerk my head back in the direction of the house. “And this isn’t my blood.”
“Mrs. Maltese.” A second man gets out the back of the car, holding out his phone. “I have your husband on the line. He’s in the air. He wants to talk to you.”
