“He’s an ornery shit,” Bruce says. “And it doesn’t matter how much pain I inflict, he’s not giving any names.”
Fuck. “Which means he’s more afraid of who sent him than he is of us.” I’d laugh at Bruce’s look of disbelief if I wasn’t in such a foul mood.
“Which also means he doesn’t know who you are, boss.”
I grab the man by his hair, yanking his head back until he doesn’t have a choice but to look at me. “Guess I better educate him.”
I slice the tendons of one elbow. The man practically swallows his tongue as he tries not to scream. “That,” I hiss into his ear, “is for terrorizing my best friend’s wife.”
The next slice is to the back of one knee. His whole body jerks as his leg malfunctions, the smell of piss spoiling the air. “That’s for calling me an asshole.”
I drop down to a squat in front of him. The guy can’t keep his head up. The loss of blood and level of pain are making him tremble, his teeth chattering so loudly we can all hear it. “Here’s your last shot,” I tell him. “You tell me who sent you, I end this right now. No more pain, just a quick death.”
It takes him a hell of a lot of effort to look at me. When he does, I get nothing but a blank stare and bloodshot eyes. “Sei uno scemo,” he says, every word garbled. “È troppo tardi. Non smetterà.”
You’re a fool. It’s too late. He won’t stop.
“Vafancullo!” I release my anger, my frustration on him,slicing the tendons in his other knee before cutting through both Achilles so deeply I almost sever his feet from his legs.
I barely register his screams as blood spreads across the concrete floor. Bruce mutters something under his breath, but I ignore him.
The thing I can’t ignore is the noose tightening around Lena’s neck. And this asshole would rather die in a pool of his own shit and blood than give me any information that might help me save her.
“Boss?” Bruce pulls me out of my thoughts, gesturing to our prisoner. He’s making truly heinous sounds now, the kind that would set the teeth of less blood-thirsty men on edge. “We’re running out of time. We need to leave. Ari’s waiting. I’ll dump this asshole’s body tonight if you…”
End him.
I could let the fucker drown in his own screams, but there’s one thing he hasn’t paid for yet. One affront that can’t go unpunished.
I rest the tip of my blade against the bottom of his throat and lean close. “And this, you motherfucker, is for trying to kill my wife.”
I push the point in slowly, straight through his neck, the blade sinking deep, the only resistance coming from his spine. I wait. Let the reality of the moment sink in for both of us. Meet his already dying eyes, then give one solid push.
His spinal column cracks. He dies. The body in front of me goes entirely limp, the room quiet.
Bruce hands me a towel and I clean the blood from my hands, notice the time on my watch. “Merda! We really are late.” This day will just not fucking quit.
“Thank God,at least one thing is going right.” Ari slaps my back, and we share a clipped smile. “We’ll own their loans by the end of the week.”
“There won’t be anything stopping us from moving in.” I walk with my brother through the underground parking lot, head on a controlled pivot as I scan our surroundings. Johnny and Bruce are doing the same in front and behind. “The execution plan is already in place. Once the paperwork is done it won’t take long to rebrand their casinos as ours and get our staff onto the floors. It’s the best fucking news we’ve had all week.”
We’ve just left a meeting with the business head of our casinos and, despite how fucked up the past few days have been, I’m buzzing. We’ve just succeeding in landing a massive blow to our enemies, in the place it hurts the most: their bank accounts.
“Rocco is going to have a coronary when he finds out who’s taken over his debt,” Ari says.
“And Pagano heads are going to roll when we tear their signs off a half-dozen casinos and put ours up instead,” I answer. “It’s a fucking win,fratello. One we really need.”
In the days since returning to the city with Lena, everything has gotten so much more intense. What with the ongoing turf war, our everyday business affairs, disposing of Lena’s attacker, stalking every last lead in the search for who wants her dead,andsearching for Aldo’sla traditrice, I feel like I’m a hamster on meth who can’t get off the fucking wheel.
I’m rarely home. I’ve barely slept. Other than the few moments of peace I’ve allowed myself in our bed, wrapping myself around Lena’s sleeping form in the hours before dawn, I’ve been surviving on espresso and pure adrenaline. I left the club and the dead body of Lena’s attacker feeling bleak.
But, maybe, my efforts are starting to pay off.
First, our business manager has confirmed that in a matterof days we’ll own of all of Rocco Pagano’s casinos. That’s hundreds of millions of dollars that will be hitting our balance sheets, legally taken from theirs.
Second, I’ve just gotten word from a contact who might hold the final puzzle piece to who is trying to kill Lena and why. He’s agreed to meet this evening. He’s at least an hour’s drive outside the city and I check my watch, anxious to be on the road. If he gives me the answers I think he’s going to, I want to be back to the penthouse before Lena goes to sleep.
Ari catches me checking the time. “You have somewhere to be?”
