Chapter 27
MASSIMO
I glare at Dante when he steps back. “Fucker, this isn’t the Dante show. The rest of us want a turn.” I wave my hand at my brothers, Lazaro, and Alonzo. All of them glare at Dante as well. Nico and Papa don’t say anything from their position in the corner.
“I’ve seen the work you do, and you’re not going to get this guy crying for mercy,” Dante replies drily. “The others will fall asleep from boredom.”
“I’ll be showing you otherwise as soon as this shit is done and I can make you regret touching my sister,” Alonzo vows coldly.
We all make sounds of agreement. Not that Dante cares.
He ignores us, grabs another blade, this one larger and sharper than the other one and turns back to the man hanging from the ceiling, blood dripping from the cuts that Dante has already covered his naked skin in.
I stalk forward and yank the knife from his hand, glaring at him.
He smirks at me, steps back and crosses his arms over his chest. “Go ahead, hotshot. The only one that I know can get any information out of anyone is Alonzo. And that’s probably because the fuckers are worried he’s going to eat them with how big he is. ”
“Pretty fucking brave for a man surrounded by people who want to take him apart,” Alessio remarks darkly. Dante says nothing, just watches me.
I know what he’s doing. The more we goad each other, the more relaxed our targets will become. I’ll give the fucker some credit—but only a little—that he’s clever. Still don’t think that he’s right for Sofia, but in this, he’s got some brains I can respect.
At least until we live up to our threats and beat the shit out of him and leave him to die in a shallow grave behind Nico’s house. That’s still always going to be the plan.
When I turn back to the man hanging from the ceiling, the other two also dangling, but not lifting their heads, he’s just watching me.
Dark eyes glassy from pain, but he’s still got the will not to give in yet.
We’ll get that out of him. The other two, they’re going to be tougher, I can tell.
Guess we’ll save the good stuff for them.
I bring my hand up, sharp and fast, and slice the blade down the side of the man’s cheek, making him scream in pain as blood wells and drains on the floor.
It’s deep enough that I might just see some bone.
Huh, looks like Dante had the men sharpen this thing nicely.
I don’t say anything to our prisoner. I just do the same to the other side, but aiming a bit higher so that it slices all the way from temple to the corner of his mouth. More screams, but no words slip out.
That’s alright, I’m patient.
I turn back to the table full of supplies and instruments, but don’t see what I want. I scowl. “Seriously, you can’t stock the fucking thing properly?”
“Fuck off,” Dante gripes.
Alonzo hands me what I need, and I give him a grateful smile.
“At least someone around here can do things properly.” There are some snickers, and I see Dante roll his eyes out of the corner of mine.
Nico and Papa just share a look, but say nothing.
Whatever, if they can’t appreciate the show, that’s fine.
Alessio gives me a knowing grin, his eyes full of anticipation.
He loves this shit.
I just turn back to our prisoner, who sees what I have in my hand, and he starts to struggle, fear and panic filling his expression.
“Ah, that got a response. Now, maybe I’ll go easy on you with this, huh?
” I jiggle the container, the contents echoing around loudly in the space.
“All you have to do is tell us what we want to know. Quick, simple, and far less painful. So what’s it going to be? ”
“Fuck you,” the man snaps, struggling against his chains like he’ll somehow get himself free.
The poor, stupid, fucker.
I don’t show a single ounce of mercy as I pour the salt on the new cuts on his face.
Even as he screams and tries to yank himself away, Alonzo comes up and holds him still, until I step away, admiring my handiwork.
The burns on his face have him sobbing, begging and pleading for mercy.
I turn a triumphant grin on Dante. “That’s how it’s done. Just in case you’re taking notes.”
Dante just arches a brow, but I can tell he’s impressed. Everyone mistakes me for the pretty boy, but we all love to get our hands dirty, and that means we get to be creative.
I set the container down, before turning back to the man and lifting the new bottle.
He doesn’t even know what’s coming as Alonzo yanks his head back, and I pour the one hundred percent alcohol on the wounds next.
His agonized screams fill the space. I note that the other two look pale and queasy.
Good. Perhaps they’ll want to talk more quickly.
I have more in that jug, and I can do a few more interesting places.
“Start talking, and I’ll give you a swift end to your misery,” I remind our currently babbling and praying prisoner.
It takes another couple of minutes for him to come to his senses and start talking. “It was Giovanni. He wanted you dead for killing his sons,” the man cries. “Please, just kill me. Fuck that fucking burns.”
“Giovanni sent you, then where did you get the bombs and blasters that went off?”
“R-R-Russians. Please!”
Not unexpected. “Why is Giovanni working with the Russians? What are they working on together?”
“I-I-I d-d-donnnn’t k-n-n-now.”
“Sure you do,” I cajole. “Just tell me and I’ll make this all stop.
” To make my point, I bring my hand up, slamming my knuckles into the side of his face, an agonized wail filling the room.
He screams and screams, until finally, I can see that he’s starting to come around enough that I can get him talking again.
“What do you know about Giovanni working with the Russians? Tell me, and I’ll kill you now. ”
“I don’t know,” he sobs. “The only thing I know is that they have us working with those Russian fuckers and they’re planning something big. They don’t talk to us. Orlando makes sure of it. He’s fucking pissed and he wants to kill all of you for killing his brothers.”
“What about the women?”
“They don’t care about them right now. They only say they’ll deal with them after they deal with you. Please, man, just kill me. Just kill me.” It’s a plea full of desperation.
I glance at Papa, who nods. I pull my gun, firing a bullet into the man’s skull quickly. The two men swaying next to him flinch, but neither makes a sound.
“Who’s up next?” I ask cheerfully, stepping away from the dangling corpse.
“Well, how are we supposed to follow up after that?” Alessio grumbles, he and Lazaro stepping forward now. “You took all the fun out of any surprises we might have.”
Yeah, right. Alessio and Lazaro live for this shit. Alessio especially. Few get to really see the darkness lurking under all that swagger and joviality.
Alonzo takes our places back against the wall and I murmur to him quietly, “What do you think?”
“I think that the other two are going to be Leonardo’s guys. Leonardo probably knew about Nico’s mother’s hiding places around here, or at least suspects that she had some. He wants access to anything before we find it.”
Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking too.
“You and Lucy good?” he suddenly asks me, surprising me. Fucking Zeno and his big mouth.
“Yeah, we’re good.” More than on my side, but with time and distance, who knows how she’s feeling now.
Especially if her sister convinces her to walk away and not talk to me at all.
I’ll handle that if it comes to it, though.
Lucy will be mine, and that means no one is going to get in my way. Not even her sister.
Alonzo lets it drop, taking me at my word, and we turn our attention back to Alessio and Lazaro tag-teaming the final two men. Both men punch, slice, and taunt the men, neither of whom gives in. Not yet anyway.
It takes another half an hour before one of them finally cracks. Unsurprisingly, it’s when Lazaro pulls out the gas can and the blow torch. The first man, the one I caught first in the hallway, caves and sobs, “Alright, alright, I’ll tell you. Just don’t. Please don’t.”
“Fucker, shut the fuck up,” the other man rages. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Why? They’re going to kill us anyway. And I didn’t want to be a fucking part of this anyway. Marco can fucking die for all I care. Him and that insane wife of his.”
Wait, did he say Marco? Marco sent these two to search the rooms?
The mood in the room shifts slightly. I glance over at Papa and Nico, and they both shift slightly, the only giveaway that they’re just as surprised. Their expressions remain hard, watchful.
“What did he want you to find?” Alessio demands.
“Shut the fuck up,” the second man hisses, grunting in pain when Lazaro slams his fist across his face.
“Talk,” Alessio orders, unmoving.
“He just said that there was something hidden in the house that he needed. Something in the north wing. That fucker, Orlando told him about it.”
“Why would Orlando tell him that? They’re on opposite sides.” Alessio pours disdain and doubt into his tone. Even a touch of impatience. It gets the man talking faster.
“O-O-Orlando is playing both sides. He doesn’t care who wins.
He wants to be the one on top when it’s done.
Fucker is crazy. He has all these plans and is using Marco and Giovanni to get them done.
He found shit, but he knows he can’t get it himself, so he sent the information to Marco.
Something about it being behind a wall, but you have to find the wall. ”
“What wall? What was it that they told you to look for?”
“I-I-I don’t know. I was just told to be the distraction while Alfie looked.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Alfie roars.
“And they told you to start in that room?” Alessio continues, ignoring Alfie’s curses and struggles.