“I can still shoot you,” I growl.
“Is that any way to repay me for going out on a limb for you?”
We walk down the steps. “You know I’m grateful, and I owe you, but that doesn’t give you a free pass to flirt with what’s mine.”
“It’s all good fun, dude.” He wraps his arm around my neck. “Lighten up. There’s no need to be so serious. You know I’m only messing.”
“I can’t help it where my kitten is concerned,” I admit as we enter the guesthouse and head toward the door leading to the basement. It’s usually padlocked and secured to keep it away from prying eyes. “I’m aware I’m irrationally obsessive, but I’m not apologizing. She’s mine, and everyone needs to know it. I see red when any man even enters her airspace.” I yank the door open.
“You’re so fucked, man.” Caleb laughs as we walk down the stairs.
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
I shake hands with the threesoldatiwaiting downstairs outside the solidsteel door that leads to my dungeon and torture chamber. “Any trouble?” I ask.
“No, boss. We’re watching the camera, and he was shouting and roaring expletives at first. Then he started crying.” Disgust laces through his tone, and I get it. Dominic is a disgrace. An abomination. I really don’t see how The Commission could be too upset with Caleb and me once we tell them.
“He brings shame toLa Cosa Nostra, which is why he’s being dealt with,” I say. My men aren’t privy to many of the facts, but when the truth comes out about Dominic Ferraro, they’ll be glad they were involved today.
Caleb and I enter the room together, sealing the door behind us.
“You won’t get away with this,” Dominic hisses, glaring at me. Blood drips from the stump where his right hand should be and trickles from the bullet holes in his knees.
“You forget who you’re speaking to,” Caleb replies, pulling two chairs over in front of the naked, bleeding man.
His flaccid little dick flops between fleshy thighs, almost concealed by the overhang of his sizeable belly. He’s disgusting, and the thought of him going anywhere near Valentina makes my blood boil. I consciously force those thoughts from my mind before I kill him with my bare hands.
“Did you really think I wouldn’t tell The Commission about your involvement with the cartel and the abuse you’ve subjected your young wife to?”
“We had a deal,” he huffs out, coughing and gasping for air.
“I don’t make deals with traitors.” My assessing gaze rakes over him, noting the blue tinge to his lips and his sweaty skin. “But you’re alive because we don’t kill men without a trial,” I lie. “Fess up and The Commission will hand down a lighter sentence.” Another lie. This prick isn’t leaving here alive today.
“I already told you,” he splutters. “It’s why I need the money to pay the cartel and get them off my back.”
“What’s in the warehouse in Miramar?” I push, growing alarmed as his chest heaves up and down and he appears to be struggling to breathe.
“What?” Panic glides across his face, and strangled sounds emerge from his mouth as sweat rolls down his nose and his limbs appear to tighten. His wide eyes latch on to mine, and more gargled sounds leak through his lips before he projectile vomits all over the ground.
“What the fuck is happening?” Caleb hops up and jumps back the same time I do.
“I don’t fucking know.”
We can’t do anything but watch as Dominic’s breathing gets shallower and shallower and his skin turns a darker shade of blue. Fuck. This isn’t looking good. “Should we intervene?” I ponder out loud. “We need answers.”
“If you’re volunteering to do mouth-to-mouth, go for it, but I’m out.” Caleb crosses his arms over his chest.
Dominic’s body is jerking and stiffening, and his strangled breaths are fading.
Yeah, my mouth isn’t going anywhere near that fat fuck. “Screw it. He can die. We’ll find our answers another way.”
“This is very inconvenient, Ferraro.” Caleb leans over Dominic as he continues struggling for air. “You just had to be difficult, didn’t you, asshole?” He kicks him between the legs. “If you’re going to die, just do it.”
In that moment, Dominic Ferraro draws his last breath. His wide bloodshot eyes are frozen in place. His limbs are stationary. His heart no longer beats.
“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Caleb drawls, pressing his fingers to Dominic’s neck. “No pulse.”
“It’s obvious he’s dead, Accardi.” I grab fistfuls of my hair as I kick Ferraro in the stomach, and the chair falls backward, landing with a thwack on the hard concrete floor. “Fuck.”
