The Truth Hurts: Part Two: The Twisted Betrayal Duet

Chapter 30

Iwatch from the shadows as Enzo delivers blow after blow to Don Verdi. His punches are faultless, and he’s barely breaking a sweat as he rains pain down on the man who put a target on Sera’s back. Enzo hasn’t even gotten to the interrogation part yet. He just throws his fists at the man’s face over and over, seemingly relishing in the torture.

I attempt to suppress the memories that crawl through the recesses of my mind. My wrists tingle with the reminder of what this room and Enzo’s torture brought me. Sure, it was agonizing, but there wasn’t a single part of me that didn’t think I deserved it. Enzo was only doing what came natural to him.

Under the dull glow of the ceiling light—which is just a naked bulb hanging from a wire—Verdi swings from side to side, suspended from the rafters by barbed wire. His head lolls to the side as he spits out a glob of blood. We’ve been here for just under an hour. It’s just Enzo dishing out the pain like it’s a hobby, his cigarette hanging out of his mouth while I stand and watch.

Eventually, Enzo steps away, wiping his bloodied fists on a stained towel. He dumps it next to a table full of tools, and my eyes immediately go to the pliers. The same ones that removed six of my teeth. Thankfully, the doctor saw to it that they didn’t get infected and confirmed I can still eat fine, but aside from that, I still feel the ghost of them in my gums.

The door creaks as it opens, Sera stepping into the room wearing a black pant-suit that clings to her perfect figure. Her eyes travel between Don Verdi and Enzo, finally landing on me and staying there. “Anything?” she asks Enzo without looking at him.

“Not yet. I’m just warming up. We thought we’d wait for you before getting the party started.” He exhales a cloud of smoke before squashing the cigarette under his heel.

She doesn’t react to that, but months of close proximity tells me that inside, she’s growing impatient and restless. What she said yesterday in the kitchen runs through my mind. I know that’s what she’s thinking about, too. If the Elders found out what was really going on, they’d have her head. So far though, they’ve proven to be near to non-existent–or they just don’t care. Which is only confirmed further by the fact they’ve not acted when it comes to Sera’s own kidnapping.

I watch Enzo drop a kiss onto Sera’s temple—an act so innocent, yet I’m vibrating with jealousy. It’s like Sera’s replaced one traitor with another. It’s my own damn fault, though. I destroyed any possibility of Sera and I having any semblance of a relationship. As brief as our time together was, I still find myself reminiscing about it, wishing that I was waking up to her.

Brown eyes find me from across the room. She offers me a subtle nod before stepping towards me. “Then let’s get started,” she sighs.

That’s the only encouragement Enzo needs before he closes the distance between himself and Verdi. He grabs his bloody, bruised face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks together to force the man to look at him. “I think you know why we haven’t killed you yet,” he sneers.

“I don’t know a thing.” Verdi spits again, thick globs of bloody saliva landing on Enzo’s face.

I can see the rage ticking there, and like a time bomb, he detonates. He rears his hand back, crashing his fist into the center of Verdi’s face.

Verdi screams, groaning and grumbling. It’s just a tidal wave of unintelligible sounds.

“Let’s try that again,” Enzo taunts, stepping back to wipe his face and grab a pair of black leather gloves from the table. He slides them over his hands. “You have something we want. Tell us where the girl is.”

“I don’t know!” Verdi cries. “Please!”

The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, unbridled anger making it difficult to keep a cool head. The man is playing with fire if he thinks I wouldn’t scour the ends of the earth to find my daughter. The sooner he tells us, the easier it will be for him. But then again, I doubt he even cares. If it means prolonging our search, he won’t give that information up so readily.

“I’d hate to make it easy for you,” Enzo huffs. “But I’m willing to make an exception.”

“I told you! I don’t know anything!” Verdi wheezes. I can hear the whistle of his twice broken nose—because there’s no way Enzo didn’t break it within the first ten minutes of torturing him. “And even if I did, you’re going to kill me anyway.”

“True,” Enzo answers boredly, tilting his head towards me and Sera as he approaches Verdi. They share a look that I can’t decipher, but something tells me there was a conversation had and the rules are changing. “But the duration of your pain depends on the information you give us.”

“What information?” he frowns.

Enzo’s shoulders dip with feigned defeat, disappointment rolling them back as he moves his gaze to our captive. “Wrong answer.”

I watch with undiluted interest as Enzo works methodically. He grabs a sledgehammer from beside the table of tools, and the metal doesn’t even glisten in the low light—it’s that used. He storms over to Verdi, the tool swinging in the air with every rotation of his arm. Then he swings it all the way back before slamming it forward.

The sickening crack ripples through the room as the sledgehammer connects with Verdi’s left knee. He screams out in pain and the raw agony of it makes me flinch. A tool like that is strong enough to take out a wall, and Enzo is using it like a goddamn toy.

Sera gasps, whipping her head away from the scene. But Verdi’s cries drown out her own shock.

Instinctively, I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her into my side. It doesn’t matter what her position is here, not everyone can be immune to such violence. She shudders against me, showing just how much she’s trying to control herself.

“Try again,” Enzo commands. There’s a nauseating perversion to the way he grins as he swings the hammer round and round, preparing for his next attack. “Where is Giovanni’s daughter?”

“I—”

Enzo lines up the hammer against Verdi’s right knee this time, lifting a brow as he waits for Verdi to continue.

“No, no, no! Please! I don’t know where she is!”

Enzo shrugs like he’s not content with the answer, but doesn’t really care. He’ll still get what he wants out of this, which is to inflict as much pain as possible on the man who started this feud.

Crack!

Verdi screams out again. A bone protrudes from his knee, sticking out of his pants sideways while blood trickles to the floor. The injuries to both knees has him collapsing, but the barbed wire slicing through his wrists holds him up, barely. The sound of his cries echo around us, bouncing from wall to wall.

And then it stops.

Silence.

Enzo huffs, his agitation growing more intense. “Guess he wants it the hard way.”

He smirks at me as he waits for my response, probably expecting disapproval, but he won’t get it from me. My daughter’s life is at stake here. She’s somewhere out there, experiencing god knows what, and I’m helpless to do anything. We have no lead, no direction to take and minute by minute I’m trying to contain my restlessness. I don’t think I’ve slept properly since I first found out she was taken, and the longer I am without her, the less sleep I get.

Levi’s sister has been held captive for so long that she doesn’t even know how far along she is in her pregnancy. There’s no way the Verdis allowed her to know vital information about their business so we can’t even fish for information on my daughter’s whereabouts. And even if they did, it’s doubtful that she’d remember. She’s so malnourished that Sera demanded she be taken to a hospital. The twins are with her now, watching over her and making sure Ronaldo doesn’t show up.

“Do you think he’s telling the truth?” Sera asks Enzo.

“Does it matter? He’s still going to die.”

“Enzo!” she scolds.

The tension between them is so thick that not even Enzo’s sledgehammer could break through it. There’s something unspoken there, but I’m not privy to what’s going on, nor do I want to ask.

Groans start to fill the room as Verdi comes to. His face is a deathlike pallor, his lips thinning as he grimaces. I didn’t peg the guy to hold out this long through torture; I didn’t think he’d be able to. The man is a weak excuse for one, so the last thing I expected was his ability to endure so much pain without giving us what we want.

“I swear,” he whimpers. “I don’t know where she is.” Through his swollen face, he locks eyes with me. Not one ounce of me feels sorry for him. In fact, I want him to beg. I want him to plead for his life, because it’s what he deserves.

“I’m afraid that’s not good enough Verdi. You started a feud against Bianchi. You used her vulnerability as a means to get to her. And now you say you don’t know where your only remaining bargaining chip is?”

I shudder at the reference, but he’s right. That’s all my daughter was in this game. A goddamn concession.

“The last time I saw her, she was with Luciano.” Verdi whimpers again as his feet scrape against the ground. The pain is no doubt excruciating for him, but there’s not a thing he can do.

“Where?” Enzo barks.

“You know where.” Verdi glances warily at Sera and me, his swollen, split lips wobbling. I know instantly what he isn’t saying, and it takes everything within me not to launch myself at the fucker. If he’s insinuating that Gabriella was in that very same compound as us, under our noses this entire time, Verdi is about to meet my fury.

As it happens though, Enzo blocks his view, leaning in close to Verdi. “That’s a goddamn lie and you know it,” he snarls, but I don’t miss the sliver of uncertainty that laces his statement. “I burned that fucking place to the ground and everyone in it.”

My fists clench at those words. The muscles in my neck work overtime to control my anger. If what Verdi is saying is true, and Enzo did destroy that place, it means…fuck! I shift nervously, my rage teetering on the edge.

But Sera’s palm slides against mine, and the fury I feel building up simmers away. “She isn’t there,” she whispers with conviction.

I want to ask how she could possibly know that. I want to believe what she’s saying, but we are no closer to finding out her location, and this situation is pissing me off more and more as the minutes tick by. There’s no room to believe anything without clear evidence, and we have none. Don’t get me wrong. I’m grateful that Enzo has taken it upon himself to find out what he can, but Verdi is stalling, maybe buying time. And for what?

“Her blood is on your hands, LaRosa,” Verdi grumbles. “You killed an innocent girl in your attempt to play the hero.”

“The fuck?” I lunge forward, but Sera jumps in front of me, stopping me in my tracks. I could easily bypass her if I wanted to, but the look she gives me is telling me to stay in my lane. Stay where I need to be so Enzo can do his thing.

With a sharp nod, I huff my annoyance and lean back against the wall.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Enzo laughs, ignoring my outburst and heading back to the table to collect the sharpest knife in the pile. It’s small in comparison to most, but l’m all too familiar with what he can do with it. It doesn’t matter how small his weapon of choice is, he’ll make every goddamn second hurt.

“You want to know how I know?” He circles Verdi like a vulture, his eyes scouring the body of the man before him. I have no doubt he’s imagining all the ways to make him hurt, to make him sing. I know because I’ve felt that deathlike stare on me, the way he surveys you like he’s picking out your weakness. He stands behind Verdi now, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking his head back so he can whisper in his ear. ”Not even you would be stupid enough to risk losing your leverage.”

Verdi doesn’t answer, but the confirmation that what Enzo is saying is true is clear in his gaze. That doesn’t stop him locking eyes with me, goading me, though the moment doesn’t last long.

“So let me ask again. Where is the girl?” Enzo reaches up and grabs a finger, sliding the blade so quickly and seamlessly over his flesh that it’s done within a split second. The finger falls to the floor with the softest thud, but it’s the screams that penetrate my ears that make me wince. Blood pours down Verdi’s hand, staining his white shirt.

“I don’t… I don’t know!” he shouts and cries, but it does nothing to stem the pain he must be feeling.

“You have nine more chances, Verdi.” Enzo taunts, tilting his head while twisting the blood-coated knife between his gloved fingers. “I wonder how many you’ll take?” He grips another finger, intent on staying true to his word.

“Greco!” He cries out before Enzo gets the chance to dismember him again.

My blood runs cold.

“Greco has her!” he whimpers.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Sera mutters beside me.

The silence that falls between us all is eerie, a sickening thought penetrating my mind. Greco was meant to be on our side, or at least to some extent. He agreed to side with Bianchi, help protect her. But that only lasted a short while. They didn’t do much in the way of protecting her, so there’s no mistaking Greco’s motives lie elsewhere, though.

“Why is he helping you?” Enzo asks the question we’re all thinking. He rounds Verdi’s hanging body, reveling in the pain he’s inflicting. He stands in front of him once more, glaring at him like that will give him all the answers. “His alignment is with Bianchi, not you.”

Verdi’s sharp breaths catch my attention. “You didn’t think I was the only one after her head, did you?” While there’s malice in his words, I know there’s more to it than just misogyny at work.

“What does that mean?” Sera growls. She steps out of the shadows to join Enzo, her earlier unease subsiding to make room for a strength I haven’t seen since… well, since we were taken.

Rolling his eyes, Verdi scoffs indignantly. “It’s not just me that has a problem with this bitch!”

Smack!

Enzo’s fist connects with his face a split second later. All the force he puts behind that one punch knocks the man clean out, his head lolling to the side. It’s hard enough that Enzo shakes his hand out, hissing in pain.

“Why did you do that?” she snaps. “We were just getting answers!”

“You think he has more to offer? Be my guest.”

Sera shifts on her heels, seemingly torn with how to answer him.

A sharp shrill rings out before Sera can respond. She pulls her phone from her pocket, sighing with agitation as she excuses herself from the room. I don’t get to see who’s calling, but judging by the way she retreats fast, it’s not a conversation she’s looking forward to.

“We need to find Greco,” he says between clenched teeth as he places his knife back on the table.

Returning my attention to our captive, I nod at his hanging form. “He must have had contact with Greco. Does he have a phone or anything?”

“No phone,” he confirms. “I ditched that when we left the compound.” Despite his words, he gets to work searching Verdi’s pockets. Whatever he’s searching for, he’s intent on finding it. He pulls out a wallet, emptying the contents onto the floor. It’s just cards and a few hundred dollar bills—which is no surprise for a man of his supposed standing.

But then my eyes catch sight of something strange; something that stands out amongst the usual contents of a wallet. It’s a playing card, the back of which is black and decorated with an emblem. I lean down and pick the card up, turning it over in my hand to examine it carefully.

Enzo takes it from me, conducting his own inspection of the card like he, too, finds it strange that Verdi was holding onto this. He glances back at me, his brows knitted in confusion. “Queen of Hearts?”