I walk past him toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. The view is spectacular, and it's wasted on the man bleeding behind me.
I sigh. "You know…" I don't turn around. "It's a shame that they don't open anymore." I chuckle. "They stopped for safety reasons. Too many people were jumping."
"Please…" the man gasps. "I'm sorry. I'll pay?—"
I twirl my knife between my fingers as I turn back to the man. "Now," I smirk, "I didn't go to med school, but I once watched a YouTube video on how to cut the larynx and keep a man alive. Shall we see how good I am?"
The man whimpers.
"Adrian," Leo says, his voice dry. "He can't talk if he's physically unable."
I glance at the man, considering. His eyes widen with fresh terror. I'm pretty sure he pissed himself at some point. I can smell the scent of urine in the air.
"Good point." I lean forward, pressing my knife against his orbital bone. "But you don't need both eyes."
He starts crying. "I swear!"
I press harder, a stream of blood blooming under the knife. "The shipment that went missing from the docks last week. Who paid you to look the other way?"
"Please, God! I needed the money. My mother?—"
I move so fast, the man's eye squelches on my knife before he can process it enough to scream. "Names!"
He chokes out two names. Port authority. I suspect they're plants from the Russians, but I can't be sure.
The man is sobbing, tears, blood, and snot making a mess of him.
I turn to Leo. "Get him out of here and make sure those two names don't show up for work tomorrow."
"Dead or disappeared?" Leo asks.
I glance at Leo, checking to see if he's serious.
"Dealer's choice."
Leo nods, pulling out his phone to make the call. The man in the chair is gulping in air. He thinks this is over. I'd feel pity for him if I were capable.
As it were, he should be glad he's going to end up with a bullet in his head instead of dismembered while breathing.
That is mercy.
At least, in my book.
My phone rings. Bianca.
Of course.
"Your mother has impeccable timing," Leo observes.
I answer. "What?"
"Good evening to you too, darling." Her voice is cool, controlled, the same voice she's used my entire life. No warmth. No affection. Just calculation. "I need you at the mansion. We have business to discuss."
"I'm taking care of our rat problem."
"Finish it and come here. And Adrian?" A pause. "You're attending the gala at The Palazzo tonight. Be presentable."
She hangs up before I can respond, which is not unlike her.
