“Are you going to try to bribe him too?” Fly raises a brow at him, reminding Seb of when he offered him money in exchange for leaving Marco.
“He wouldn’t take the money. All Art wants is his freedom,” I hear myself say.
Freedom to be cuffed to my bed again, until he learns I own him, every little piece of that brat, every insane shade and feisty comeback. How he whimpers when he’s tired. His uncontrollable appetite. His irritating sarcasm. The slutty face he makes when I grind my cock into him. His eyes filling with pain when he talks about his past. I’ve been torn between my vendetta and my loyalty toward my family almost all my life. And now Art is added to the mix.
“He’ll get his freedom. We just need to wait,” Seb announces.
“For what?” I rumble. “Enlighten me.”
“To be sure father and son are in the same place.”
“Why?” Fly asks.
“One could escape after we off the other,” Marco explains.
“I’ve waited long enough.” I’m at the end of my wits.
“We gotchu, bro. Just trust us.” Marco’s hand falls on my shoulder, and I snap my teeth at him—just like Art would. Because the neurolinguistic crap still works.
Art never patted me on the shoulder, and yet he made me lighter with just a few words—and some dicking.
“How about that Rami guy in Art’s note? Can he help?” Marco suddenly asks.
“Ramiel Master is a fucking hacker. He confirmed Mario killed Doppi’s son. He sent to Art’s phone an incriminating video of him dragging the corpse to the park,” I tell him. Not that I care about any video since I’m going to kill Mario anyway.
“I’ve worked with Rami before. He’s very skilled. He thinks Mario is responsible for fifteen of the police’s open cases,” Seb states.
I feel a blazing fury inside me that I can barely contain. How many more families did he destroy? “How many more lives did that sick bastard take?”
“You need to get Art away from him. How do we know when Jack and Mario Enzino will be together?” Fly looks deeply worried. It doesn’t help the anguish inside my gut, but it enforces my determination.
“The wedding,” Marco says.
“It’s too far away.” I shake my head.
“No. I got a text a few minutes ago. It was moved to the day after tomorrow,” Seb interjects.
A text. From one of his informants?
“Moved?” Is it because Art is with them?
“So, let’s go stop the fucking funeral-for-two.” Marco’s words earn him a slap on the arm from Fly.
“Don’t say that!”
“I didn’t mean it literally, though we will give some extra work to the mortuary.” He sounds eager.
“Rather than charging in like a bulldozer, we need an alternative plan,” Seb states.
“How about calling in a favor?” Marco smirks.
Seb’s eyes narrow at him. “Raymond Turiiswaiting for my call.”
“The mayor’s assistant?” Fly asks, confused.
As we start to put down the details, my hand moves down to my chest, but I can’t feel the Saint pendant around my neck. The necklace is still broken. It’s all the same. I’m not the one who needs protection. Those fucking Enzinos are.
Apart from Art. He’ll be paying for it in a whole different way. Oh, he will.
