A dull ache in my side forced me to take a breath, the slick feel of renewed blood soaking my shirt where they’d stuck a knife into me. “He wore a mask.”
“You okay?” Lorenzo asked, brows drawn together and I nodded.
“Anything distinct about the mask?” Excitement glinted in Scott’s eyes. “What about the clothes he wore?”
“See this eye?” I pointed to my swollen lid. “How much do you think I would’ve noticed with my good eye?” Another lie. Knowing she was a serial killer didn’t dissuade my need to findout who she was. In fact, my fucking dick throbbed at the idea of meeting her pussy.
As if he were privy to my thoughts, Lorenzo frowned at me then to Scott, “anything else you’re not telling us?”
“There’s only one other aspect of the case they’re keeping under wraps.” Scott’s gaze drifted between me and Lorenzo as if asking us to never discuss what he was about to reveal. “Despite the two months between killings, the murders always happened on the same day.” At my puzzled look, he added. “They all took place on the night of the new moon.”
I snorted a laugh. “What the fuck?”
Scott cupped his nape, trying to act like he hadn’t just mentioned a crucial piece of a puzzling case. “I’m serious.” He retrieved his phone from his jacket pocket, pressed a couple of buttons and held it out to me. “See for yourself.” I took the device and scowled at the screen. “There was a new moon on the night of The Den’s massacre. We’ve got recordings of the same from other countries.”
I stared at the chart, unimpressed. “If that assumption is correct, what about today’s killing then?” I handed him the phone. “There’s no new moon.”
“Honestly, I have no idea what brought this on.” Scott shrugged, his gaze mopping the floor. “Everything here points to his MO except for the new moon. Then again, that aspect has some of the best detectives stumped. Too many variables and not enough evidence to support any concrete theories. There are mafia families kicking up a storm with bounties on this killer’s head and whoever gets him, is going to be an overnight billionaire.” He puffed out a deep breath. “Admittedly, even I’m captivated.”
“Makes two of us,” I muttered, aware I had a little more knowledge about their suspect I wasn’t about to share.
“Can we leave this in your hands, Scott?” Lorenzo asked.
“Sure thing. But I have a feeling they might want to call Remo?—”
“And I trust you’ll leave Remo’s name out of your report?” Lorenzo’s tone was one known associates never bothered arguing. Where I was uncaring, flippant to the point some would call, arrogant, my brother’s blank countenance left everyone guessing what would come next. And if he lost his shit, not even hell was safe enough to disappear into for someone who’d wronged him.
“Yes, Mr. Rossi.” Considering the amount Scott was paid to turn the other way, he’d be a fucking ass to look a gift horse in the mouth.
“Let’s go.” Lorenzo helped me up with an arm around my waist. “From now on I want Tony and Joey with you all the time,” he ordered, referring to the two heavies following us as we walked out.
“I’m not a fucking child, I can take care of myself.” I was a muscular guy, Tony and Joey however, two of our largest soldiers, beat me on the brawn. Not only were they cautious as fuck, but their ability to think on their feet and marksmanship with guns outranked the men on our payroll.
Regardless, I didn’t fucking need them. I was no pussy and even cornered, I’d welcome death. My brother knew I made no bones about my kills or me dying, and he’d fought alongside me plenty to know I charged head on. There were times he’d saved my ass just to keep me by his side, living.
“Tell that to your swollen eye, bust lip and whatever other fucking bruises you’re hiding beneath that thick skin,” he threw back. I opened my mouth to argue, and he shut it with one of his famous glares. He was the only man I allowed to influence my lifestyle. Not that I listened. “I don’t care if you eat, shit, sleep or fuck with those two around but they’re not leaving your side. Understood?” he gritted.
“Fine,” I grumbled, wincing.
“Jesus, boss.” Gian stood at the door of the blacked-out Audi, his face creased in shock. He stepped closer. “I should’ve been there, with you, by your side, protecting you,” he rushed on.
Dario and I shared a look. “And got your ass killed?” I asked Gian.
“That’s what a good soldier does,” he mumbled, his eyes darting between me and his brother.
I sighed. “You’re a good soldier, Gian, I just need you handling things less half-cocked.”
“The pot calling the kettle black.” Lorenzo grinned, guiding me to the back seat.
“Ride with the boys, I’ll drive,” Dario instructed Gian, tipping his chin at Joey and Tony.
Expecting Gian to argue, I was surprised at his quick nod before Dario slid behind the wheel of our car.
“Want to tell me what you left out back there?” Lorenzo asked.
I looked at my brother, shaking my head and one of his brows went up telling me he wasn’t buying my bullshit. Admittedly, his observation skills were too hard to bypass and what made him the respected Mafia Don he’d become. Leaning my head against the backrest, I closed my good eye and relayed everything leading up to his arrival.
“Who the fuck did you piss of now, Remo?”
