“Good,” I whisper darkly in his ear before shoving him off me and onto the sofa.
“Fuck you!”
This feels right. Hate is what we should feel toward one another.
“Dream on,” I counter.
“You are a homophobe, closeted fucker!”
I sniff. “Keep telling yourself that, unless you want me to remind you who I really am?” I let him process the threatening words while I sheath the knife and hover over him.
He purses his lips before looking down. Pre-cum leaves the tip of my now-all-the-way-stiff dick. It revels in Enzino’s show of surrender.
“How many times are you going to pull on my hair? Do you want me to turn bald?” He digs his nails into the back of my hand and closes his other fist around the sofa cushions.
I grab his wrist as a vision of me holding his head back as I fuck him doggie-style flashes inside my head. Christ, I need to fuck—anyone else. He fights me a little as I handcuff him to the armrest.
I’m making my way to the door when he has the balls to say, “Leave yourbonerbehind at least.”
I’m glad I’m giving him my back so he can’t see the way it twitches in my pants. “To find it nailed to the wall?”
“I’ll give it a wonderful ride first.” His bratty reply leaks contempt.
I grit my teeth with deep annoyance, so deep I want to tear something apart. What do I need to do to make him more afraid of me? I have more than a couple of ideas, but I can’t fucking use them! I slam the door behind me before Enzino can add anything else. Jeff is on the landing. I grab him by the collar and shove him against the wall, pushing my face an inch from his.
“He is cuffed to the sofa. Every fifteen minutes, open the door and check that he stays put. If you let him escape, I won’t kill you. I’ll work on you until you beg me to end your life.Sono stato chiaro?”
“Sí, capo.” He nods frantically. I wait five more seconds, enough time to feel fear flooding out of him, before letting him go.
I’m not usually this vicious with my crew, but keeping the brat here is essential to find his brother and stop Jack Enzino’s plans before avenging my parents. There’s no space for mistakes. I need to remember that as well. When I get out of the building, I receive a text back from Shirley. She is good for tonight. I look up and see Carlo’s car. Perfect timing.
“Boss,” he greets me, opening the car door. “Been a while.”
I nod. I’ve known him for ten years. He is a competent soldier with good instincts. I can leave Enzino with him while I’m fucking Shirley’s brains out.
“Drive me to Art Enzino’s apartment,” I order him, taking a seat in the back.
At this hour of the day, it takes thirty minutes to get there. We park the car and get into the building through one of the emergency exits—I bribed the landlord to give us the code to the door. We don’t meet anyone on the way up. Before using the apartment key I found in Enzino’s purse, I tell Carlo to call Jeff, we need the code for the security system. As soon as Enzino gets on the line, I open the door and look for the beeping keypad. We have thirty seconds before it alerts the police.
“Alarm Code to your place,” I order.
The brat is on speaker and starts reciting the numbers straight away. “Seven-seven-seven-seven-seven-seven-one.”
After disarming the alarm, I take a look around the messiest apartment I’ve ever seen. It feels like there was a clothes explosion, which left pieces of garments on every surface. Dirty plates, glasses, and food containers litter the kitchen and tables. I already saw some of it when I was watching him through my binoculars, but being in the middle of it is a completely different and horrifying experience.
“It’s a pigsty in here.” Isn’t he afraid of getting swine fever or cholera?
“I like to try different outfits before going out, and the maid hasn’t been able to get in since I was kidnapped,” Enzino replies with an indignant tone.
“Were there ten other people with you?” Carlo asks with a puzzled voice, holding the phone between us.
“I’ll let this go since you finally went to my place. But let me just say that being messy is a sign of an active mind,” Enzino says as I stare at the open drawers. I have an uneasy feeling.
“A filthy mind,” Carlo counters.
“You betcha, whoever you are.” I can hear the smirk in his voice. Does he flirt with everybody?
“Carlo.”
