“Payment for debts.” He adds as if he thinks the fear isn’t registering to me.
Chapter 23
Damiano
Lorenzo and I builttheDungeonsmany years ago. Mainly for interrogation and other ungodly acts, our business requires us to function. While the rest of the property is sun-drenched marble and sprawling views of the Mediterranean, theDungeonsis a modern fortress of cold steel and soundproofed concrete. This was my playground. So many of our enemies have bled and died on these floors.
Tonight won’t be any different.
Lucian and Andreas arrived with theshipmentan hour ago. I stand in the center of the interrogation room, the LED lights bathing the two men in a harsh glare as they sit tied to steel chairs bolted to the floor.
Alfonso, the bastard who thought he could kidnap Katarina and get away with it, is slumped in his chair, shirt bloodied, his face barely recognizable from the one I’ve seen on TV. Beside him sits the man he was bickering with back at my club, a middleman named Sergio, whose breathing has turned into a disgusting wet rattle.
To my right, Lucian flashes a sinister smile at Sergio before driving a punch to his face. Meanwhile, Andreas is leaning against the reinforced doorframe, idly flicking his pocketknife open and shut.
"You had an hour to think," I say, pulling a pair of the bloodied leather gloves tight over my knuckles as my patience wanes.
“I’m not known for my patience,amigos,” I say, rising from my chair to stop in front of Alfonso. I watch him visibly shake before he spits blood onto the polished floor, almost hitting my right shoe. He tries to laugh, but all that comes out is a wet cough.
“I told you what you need to know,” He sneers. “We were just doing what we were told. Kill the brother, deliver the goods, including yourex-novia.”
My grip on my gloves tightens until the stitching groans, his choice of words scratching my ego.
Ex-novia.
The term is a deliberate mockery of an old wound I’m still struggling to heal, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.
Andreas fucking snickers, the annoying sound bouncing off the concrete walls. He shakes his head, the blade of his knife catching the light. "I didn’t realize this relationship wascomplicated,” he teases.
Strunzuni.
Lucian, however, doesn't share his humor. He shifts his weight, looking between the bleeding men and me with genuine confusion.
"Ex-girlfriend?" he asks, his voice sounding oddly loud in the room. "I thought she was your girlfriend? Isn’t that why we’re punishing these fuckers?"
I step into Alfonso’s space and drive my fist into his jaw in pure rage. The crack of bone is loud and fucking satisfying. Before he can even choke on his scream, I grab his throat with my hand, squeezing until his face turns purple.
"Who paid you?" I hiss, my face inches from his. "Say it, or I will peel the skin from your face while you're still alive to feel it."
All he can do is gurgle the blood in his mouth, his eyes bulging as his body bucks against the chair. I shove him back, the chair rattling against the bolts in the floor. His body slumps forward, almost falling off the chair.
“Give me a fucking name!” I scream, wiping a stray drop of his blood from my knuckle.
Sergio begins to sob, his triple chin quivering. Tears streak through the dirt on his cheeks. “We don’t know! We were just told to secure the girl.El tano... he was the one who wanted her. Not us. Please!”
“¿Cuál tano?”I hiss.
Lucian steps forward and reaches out, grabbing a fistful of Sergio’s hair and yanking his head back until his triple chin stretches tight.
“The one in charge!” Sergio cries, his voice cracking. “We don’t know his name. He never told us!”
I reach into the pocket of my jacket and pull out the photo of Nicolo Guidicelli. I hold it inches from Alfonso’s face and ask,
“¿Es este el hombre?”
Alfonso blinks through the swelling of his eyes, squinting at the photo. “No,” Alfonso chuckles, his voice trembling but certain. “I've never seen that man before.”
I shift the photo to Sergio. The man’s eyes bulge, reflecting the light like a cornered animal.
