Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 427(@300wpm)
“You saw the photos of Dante and Aria,” I pressed out through a fucking tight throat. I clenched my fists, hating that my body betrayed me.
“They show nothing. I talked to Orazio. He got his hands on the photographer and will bring him to us tomorrow.”
“I can’t take in Orazio now. We need him as a spy.”
Matteo rolled his eyes. “I know, and he will return to Chicago.” He’d been rising in rank since Valentina married Dante. As her brother he was our perfect asset.
“Did you hear what I said? We can talk to the photographer tomorrow. Orazio already questioned him and it’s like Aria said, she met with Val, then Dante joined them and forced Aria to leave the restaurant with him, but tomorrow you can make him tell you the same thing again if you don’t believe me.”
I nodded, but apart from that didn’t react. My outsides were stone but I couldn’t control my fucking insides. I felt fucking relieved, but it didn’t matter anymore. Yesterday had showed me one thing: I had grown weak because of Aria. She was a weakness—a weakness I couldn’t allow myself as Capo.
“So will you help me interrogate that asshole?”
I smirked. “Sure.”
Matteo frowned. “I’m not sure you really get what I’m telling you.”
“Oh I do,” I said quietly. “Aria went to Chicago behind my back. That is fact. She didn’t cheat, who gives a fuck?” The words seemed to scorch my throat. A fucking lie. Even thinking of Aria being with someone other than me felt like a stab in the heart.
A weakness.
I’d never been weak in my life.
Aria was a weakness I couldn’t allow myself.
Matteo shook his head. “Whatever. Tomorrow we’ll talk to that photographer. Maybe you’ll be more tolerable afterwards.”
Orazio nodded at me as I shook his hand. He was only a couple of inches shorter than me. It was unmistakable that he was related to Valentina. Same eyes, same hair color. At least he wasn’t fawning over Dante.
Dante. My blood boiled only thinking of him, of his hands on Aria’s shoulders, of his mouth close to her ear, and his fucking arm between her legs...
Matteo shoved me. “Will you snap out of it for fuck’s sake? I can’t have you go on another killing spree.”
“Why not? I’m sure it will silence many of our enemies.”
Matteo shook his head before he turned to Orazio, who was listening with mild interest.
“Where is the asshole?” Matteo asked.
“Trunk. Pissed his pants. That’s why I didn’t want him on my backseat,” Orazio said. He led us to the back of his BMW and opened the trunk. A short, fat guy in his thirties was curled up inside. He stank of piss, shit and sweat. He blinked up at us through teary eyes, his mouth covered with tape.
I grabbed him by the throat and lifted him out, then thrust him to the ground. Behind us the building of the old Yonkers power plant rose into the sky.
Gateway to Hell.
I smiled down at the sniveling man on the ground as he watched me like I was the devil. “So you took those pictures?” I asked in a low growl as I knelt down beside the man, unsheathing my knife from my chest holster. I removed the tape so he could talk, but more than that: so I could hear his screams.
He eyed the blade with open horror. “Please! I only did what I was paid to do. I didn’t mean any harm.”
My smile widened. This was who I was destined to be. Brutal. Cruel. Merciless. Not the fucking emotional mess Aria turned me into.
Most of the time I let Matteo handle the torture because he was a master at it. He loved to play with his victims. I preferred the kill. Not today. Orazio and Matteo stood back as I dealt with the photographer. He’d long revealed his last secret when I plunged my knife into his fucking heart and granted him death. For a long time, there was silence after that as I tried to get a handle on my fury.
Dante had let the photographer take those photos and had sent them to me because he knew Aria was my fucking weakness. He’d hoped I’d lose my shit, had hoped I’d go on a rampage, maybe even attack Chicago. I wasn’t sure.
Orazio cleared his throat. “I also found out yesterday that Gottardo and Ermano contacted Dante a few weeks ago to help him throw you over. Dante was wary of them, thought it was a trap, but in our meeting yesterday Scuderi encouraged him to trust in them.”
“Gottardo and fucking Ermano. Those fucking bastards,” I hissed, focusing on them instead of the fact that Dante fucking Cavallaro had tried to make me believe Aria had an affair with him. Fuck him!
Love, a fucking weakness!
Matteo watched me cautiously as if he thought I’d snap Orazio’s or his neck just to kill something. “At least it’s only them and a couple of low soldiers. Nothing we can’t handle.”