“The bride can’t go missing,” I remind him. “Besides, she’ll get her chance to talk to him if she wants it. Just not tonight.”
Damian’s jaw shifts. “Alright.”
He may as well have said fuck you.
I eye him from head to toe.
“Come on, Tommy is waiting in the car,” Carmine says and motions me out.
My eyes lock to Damian’s, and I try to understand him in this moment. Try to sus out what his motive is. Does he just want to be kept in the loop, or does he think I might get hurt?
I shake my head at him, and watch as his face falls into something more relaxed. Trying to tell him without actually speaking that I’ll be okay.
The door opens and Carmine leads me out into the main area before we step into the cold. I follow him to the car that Tommaso is driving and slip into the back. While seated in the back, I take off my bow tie and let my hair down, undoing the pins that hold it back and tucking them into one of my tux pockets.
It’s not long before we’re finally back at our estate.
“You’re keeping him here?” I ask curiously.
Carmine walks quicker than me up the icy stairs. “We have what we need to interrogate him here, plus, there’s no one better guarded.”
I nod in agreement. “Better here than at the Fiorelli’s estate, clearly they need our help more than we need theirs,” I scoff. This whole marriage is far more of an advantage for the Fiorelli family than us.
“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Carmine replies. “Let’s keep our focus on getting all the information we can out of this guy. Do not get distracted. He’ll try to use the wedding against you.”
I nod stiffly. “I know what I’m doing, Carmine. I’ve done it before.”
“I know, but this time it’s much closer than ever before. They want you dead, Alessio. Usually they target the head of the family.”
“Maybe that’s saying something that they’re a targeting me this time,” I tell him as we head down into the basement with several arms guards following in front and behind us.
“Don’t start now,” Tommaso grumbles. “Let’s just get to this guy before he tries to kill himself or something.”
I roll my eyes.
The basement is comprised of three rooms with solid concrete walls and doors so heavy that it takes two guards to push it open once they’re unlocked by both key and keypad.
“You’re the one who always starts shit, Tommy,” I remind him before we step into the dimly lit, cold, windowless room.
There’s a man tied to a chair in the middle of the room with dried blood on his shirt and a very exhausted and irritated expression on his face. He looks to be mid-thirties, maybe. Light olive-toned skin, jet black hair, and a nose that looks like it’s been broken a few times.
“I’m not tellin’ you nothing,” he spits out as he squirms in the chair.
“We’ll see about you,” Tommaso snaps at him. “You like both of your arms intact?”
“Tommy,” Carmine scolds him, and then looks to me. “Go ahead. He’s all yours.”
I step closer to the guy and get a better look of him. He looks small. Scrawny, really. Nothing to write home about.
“You were the driver,” I say, taking an educated guess.
“I didn’t say nothing,” he sneers.
“You’re too skinny to shoot the gun that was used,” I comment. “Especially as many times and from a moving vehicle. You had to be the driver.”
“I could shoot any one of you!” he claims in several loud breathless huffs. “I’ll fucking kill you right now.”
I step closer to him and lean down. “Go ahead and try again, but you’re not making it out this time.”
