Demir gestured for the man to sit down, and he did.
"You wanted me, sir?" the man asked in a calm voice.
Vito and Nathan looked at the man in silence, long enough for the man to fidget in his seat. It wasn't anything too glaring, just a twiddling of his thumbs. Someone who didn't have their keen eyes might have missed it.
Zindel rolled his eyes, then huffed. "I'll see myself out."
"Don't go too far," Vito told him.
"I'll just be at my desk," Zindel kissed Vito, tongue and all, before breaking away and leaving.
"He doesn't like it when you handle this kind of business?" Nathan asked, since Zindel got to stick around for their conversation.
Vito chuckled and shook his head. "Not his cup of tea. But make no mistake, he can handle anything."
"To be with you, I don't doubt it," Nathan said.
Vito returned his attention to the man in front of him. The rat bastard. "What did you tell them about us?"
"What? What are you talking about?" the man asked as if he didn't know it was all over for him.
Demir reared his hand back to strike him, but Vito held a hand up. "Don't."
Demir lowered his fist and stood by.
The man in the chair began to grow more nervous. He scooted to the edge. "Look, Mr. Castiello, I don't know what's going on here, but I don't think I did anything wrong."
"Did you check him for listening or visual devices?" Vito asked.
"Standard practices. He's never been caught with one, and he doesn't have one on him now," Demir said.
"Good." Vito rose and walked around his desk until he was standing before the man. "I'm not one to beat around the bush."
"You just beat the bush," Demir joked, and Nathan smirked as he tossed the assassin a glance. He didn't think the man had it in him—a sense of humor—but apparently, he did.
Vito winked and nodded. "Let us lay all of our cards on the table. You're DEA Agent Darryl Castiglioni."
The man's jaw tightened, a sure sign that he knew he was in danger. "I don't know who that is."
"It's you," Vito said with certainty. "How much did you tell the DEA about us?"
"I don't know what you're talking about, I swear," the man protested.
"Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think this is the first time we've ever had a fucking rotten rat bastard try to get shit on us?" Vito asked him.
"I swear—"
Vito gripped the man's chin, stopping him. "I've read your file. You have a wife named Rebecca and two children, Anthony and Lisa, who are at Henry Sullivan High School right now."
The man's eyes widened then, and he tried to shake his head, but Vito's grip was too strong. Nathan watched, his expression unreadable, as Vito revealed information the man knew was supposed to remain a secret.
"Just listen to me, because when I'm done talking, I'm going to ask you to answer my question again, and this time, if you don't give me the correct answer, I'm going to send one of my men to visit your family," Vito said.
The man's breathing quickened, and the desperation in his expression was evident.
Vito released his chin.
"Please don't hurt them. Please," the man begged.
