Still, I stare at him through the screen.
Instead of pouring the alcohol into the glass, Carmine just stares at the bottle for a moment. Then, he brings it to his mouth and swigs. No…chugs.
My eyes widen slightly. No wonder he looks like a fucking mess if that’s all he’s been doing the last twenty hours.
I can almost see shining beads of the liquid drip down his chin and neck, to his chest… I find myself bringing my face closer to the screen…as if it will help me see better.
My stomach grows hot as I watch him slam the bottle down and rake his fingers through his hair roughly.
I blink. Now is not the time. Get it together.
After taking a slow breath, I switch to the other cameras. Nothing interesting. There’re no cameras in any offices or bedrooms. Just the areas where family might gather. This gives me an excuse to go back to the kitchen.
Carmine isn’t there anymore.
I switch to the family room.
He’s standing in the doorway, waving one of his arms, sipping from his glass.
The two brother’s expressions grow more and more tense.
Suddenly, I’m watching an argument. Carmine tosses his glass across the room, and it crashes against the fireplace, sending shards of glass into the fireplace.
The taller brother launches himself at Carmine, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him over toward the tree and the fireplace.
Did Carmine do that with the tree?
Carmine shoves his brother away, and grabs one of the only intact ornamental bulbs left from the floor. He crushes it in his hand and tosses the fragments down. I can feel the pain in my own hand just thinking about it. Stinging pain in my palm…blood trickling down to my fingers.
His blood…I find myself wondering what it smells like.
Carmine storms out of the room, and I switch to the kitchen, getting a feeling I know what he’s going to do. He grabs the bottle off the counter again. I watch his fist wrap around it.
I close the app and shove my phone in my pocket.
The first part of my job is done…I know what kind of state Carmine is in, and I know what I have to do.
“Hey, hey, how did you get in?” one of the guards asks me as I stroll across the driveway from the side, very clearly having not entered through the front gate.
I put my hands up. “I’m not here to start trouble,” I insist. It’s not a lie, but it’s not exactly the truth either.
The guard raises his gun at me with both hands. “No one is allowed on this property without clearance. You’re trespassing.” His voice is loud and clear, and he speaks English with a thick German accent.
“I’m here on business only,” I keep my hands up and out to the sides. “I need to speak to your man.”
“Our man was killed this morning. Maybe you have something to do with that?” the guard asks.
“I assure you I don’t. In fact, I was heartbroken to hear about the death of such a powerful and wise man. My family wants to offer our services to make sure this doesn’t happen again,” I tell him as I step closer. I meet his eyes with my head tilted up and not down. I keep my body language open and vulnerable to him. My brows furrow and my mouth curves downwards slightly.
“And your family would be?” he asks.
I raise a brow. “You new here? Fiorelli. I’m Soren Fiorelli, and I’m here to talk to Carmine. I know he’s the man in charge now.”
“We don’t need your help, we’ve got it covered,” he replies.
“Sure, sure you do. But, I can’t go back empty handed, ya know? If our help really isn’t needed, the boss’ll give me an earful and I’ll be on my way. Unless…” I tilt my head side to sidea little and smirk. “Unless you want to get your ass kicked for making decisions for him?”
The guy eyes me, and his expression and body language grow anxious. He shifts on his feet. Finally, he flicks the barrel of his gun toward the front door. “Go on.”
