“Why?”
He knows why, he just likes to double-check other people’s responses.
“My murderous side will gain control over me very soon.”
“I see.” His unemotional, robotic voice rubs me the wrong way right now.
“Do you think Fly will accept that?”
Fucking hell. Why do people keep getting in the middle of my vendetta? I just want to avenge my parents, is it too much to ask?
“I need to go. Keep me posted,” Seb suddenly says before hanging up.
I turn toward the closet, and I start kicking it over and over until I break the frame of one of the drawers, and pieces of wood fall out. Something metallic-looking catches my eye. A safe. I clear the way until I see the small keypad on the front. Not numbers but letters. I try his dog’s name, snacks and food and a bunchof other words. Nothing. My eyes fall on the nightstand in the bedroom. Could it be…?
What did he say his dildo’s name was? D.E.N.V.E.R.
Click, the thick door opens. Only that brat could choose the name of his vibrator as a combination for his safe. Inside, there’s only a big white envelope. I open it. It contains a few things, so I walk back to the bedroom and unload it on the bed. A passport with Arturo Enzino’s face and a fake name, that same fake name appears on deeds for five different clubs in New York. Does he own them under a different name? Why? The only reason could be that he doesn’t want people to know. But again, why?
Red Tape is one of them. The club opened just four months ago and he has been going there a lot. The same club I kidnapped him from a week ago. I look at the contract and see a familiar name. Aurora Coretti is his partner, owning forty percent of the club. What the fuck is going on? Is he in cahoots with Coretti? How? What does he want? The Enzino throne? I doubt it. Power? Money?
Enzinos are all the same. Traitors, liars, and scheming bastards. My hand tightens around the papers, making them crinkle. All I want to do is make him bleed on the tip of my blade, while forcing him to tell me every-fucking-thing. But I won’t be able to stop myself if I start, and what about Fly?
Arturo Enzino is playing with me. Why not share some of the fun with him?
When I reach the third floor of the safe house, Jeff is outside on the landing. His eyes widen, and he looks nervously at the apartment door. I don’t ask him anything. I just slide my hand in the back of my jacket to grab my gun and tell him to open the door.
He quickly complies, then moves to the side to let me get a look at the empty sofa.
“Where the fuck is he?” I snarl, looking around the living room.
“In the bathroom,” Jeff replies, swallowing anxiously.
I can hear him singing behind the closed door. Hot fury boils in my gut as I advance toward Jeff.
“Did I tell you to uncuff him?”
“No, Boss. But he needed to pee.”
I take out my knife—not the Enzino killer, that’s reserved for the cunning fucker in the bathroom. I carry extra ones for these kinds of occasions.
“Scusa, capo. He reminds me of my late little brother, and I just…” He lowers his head after he sees the blade and waits.
Asoldatowho violates the rules or fails to perform has to be disciplined. Performing demeaning tasks or temporary restrictions are the lightest. But they can also lose their status, even get executed—typically, the latter is caused by severedisobedience or betrayal. Jeff takes his job seriously and the consequences that come with it. But he’s too fucking soft-hearted. He needs a permanent reminder.
“Unbutton your shirt and expose your shoulder,” I say with a commanding voice.
He does it quickly, without asking me the reason. I use my knife to carve the L of Leone on his skin.
“A repeated poor performance is seen as a liability and can make you faceterminalconsequences.” It’s a warning, I hope it will remain just that. That’s why I keep carving until sweat covers his forehead and his lips curl to show his gritted teeth.
“Boss?” Carlo’s voice reaches me as he makes his way inside the apartment to leave the bag with Enzino’s stuff. His tone remains even, this kind of punishment is quite normal in our family. “I called the landlord to ask about the building footage. He needs a day or two. The CCTV is connected directly to a security firm. It takes time to get it.”
“I don’t fucking care, tell him I want it by tomorrow or I’ll personally go see him,” I snap. I hate this shitty day.
I turn to Jeff. “Carlo will take your place. Go put something on the wound and go home. Starting tomorrow, you remain in the parking lot.”
“Yes, Boss,” he replies, wincing as he pulls his shirt back on.
