4. Matteo
FOUR
Matteo
“They've gone into Flesh.” Alex’s voice is steady, but I can hear the underlying tension down the phone line.
“I’m ten minutes away. Don’t let them leave.” I can hardly see for the rage boiling inside me. They kidnapped her? My angel? They will suffer pain the world has never seen before.
Alex is still talking and I tune back in. “You want to go in after them? Only, breaking into Petrovitch’s biggest brothel uninvited probably counts as a declaration of war.”
“He started this. He stole the suitcase from my vault.”
“You still haven’t got any real proof he ordered the robbery. Plausible deniability, remember? Same as with your parents.”
“Who the fuck else would need that file? We’ve got a billion dollar deal going down in a week and someone just happens to crack our secure vault and take the file containing all the blackmail material I’ve gathered on the appropriations committee? Leaves the money, the jewels, everything else. Just takes the file and loads it into a suitcase. Who else would do that?”
“I’m not saying he didn’t do it. I’m saying we need proof or the city drowns in blood and that deal disappears into the mayor’s asshole.”
“They already told me it was Petrovitch they were selling to. I’m betting he ordered the theft. Who’s on the door there?”
“Peter. Looking bored and I’m guessing he’s not been to the gym for a while. Put on at least ten pounds. Want me to take him out?”
“No. Just keep an eye on the door. I’ll deal with this myself.”
I snap the phone shut, urgency propelling me forward. Even if stealing the case hadn’t already signed their death warrants, they’ve scared Emma.
Her safety, her well-being, has become my singular focus, an obsession that's tightened its grip on me with every passing second since those bastards took her. I warned them what would happen if they didn’t let her go, warned them I would torture them until they begged for death. They still think they can play me?
The only question is why did they take her? As far as they know, she means nothing to me.
As I weave through the traffic, my mind fills with the thought of her. Scared and alone with those bastards. A fury builds in me that's all-consuming.
She’s been taken because of me. If I hadn’t come after her father, these two wouldn’t have gotten scared, they wouldn’t have come to his place. She’s in danger because of me.
So what? I don’t normally give a shit what happens to anyone. So why does she matter so much?
I have no answer beyond her innocence. That light in her soul that hints there could be something outside the darkness that’s consumed me for years.
I’m not thinking about that now. I’m thinking of their screams, sweet music to my ears. They will die screaming.
My reputation, built on violence and bloodshed, is not just a tale whispered in the dark corners of the city. It's a warning, a promise of retribution for those foolish enough to cross me. And tonight, I'm not just Matteo Rossi, feared head of the Rossi crime family; I'm the devil. I will slaughter anyone who hurts her.
Petrovitch, with his brothels and his underground empire, so certain his establishments are safe from the likes of me. No doubt that’s why they’ve taken her there. They think his name will be enough to protect them. I bet they think they can negotiate. Think taking a hostage will make it easier to appeal to my softer side. I haven’t got one.
Like clockwork, my cellphone rings. “We got your attention yet?” one of the assholes says down the line. “We got your girl. Must hurt knowing she’s with us. How about you let us walk and we simply give her back? You’re a businessman. You know a good deal when you hear it.”
I pull up outside Flesh. Alex climbs out of his car and into mine, his binoculars pointed at the door, watching Peter marching back and forth outside. There’s no one else to be seen. At night, the place would be alive with rich clients come to fuck the drug addicted and the vulnerable. This time of day, the street is empty.
I grip my cellphone tightly to my ear as the asshole rambles on. “This is how it’s going to work. We want a car, a good one, that Bentley of yours should do. Out front of Flesh in thirty minutes. We come out with the girl and we get in the car. She comes with us to the airport. We get on a flight to Rio and you take her home with you.”
“Make it first class,” his friend yells from the background.
I don’t give a shit what they want. They won’t be alive in ten minutes.
It’s often this way. People think my reputation is overblown, that no one can be as violent as me, as cold, as cruel. By the time they realize the truth, it’s too late.
“Sure,” I say. “Whatever you want. Let me talk to the girl.”
“Who is she?” he asks as I climb out of the car. “Why does she matter so much to you?”
Losing her is not an option. She means more to me than she knows, more than I've let myself acknowledge until now. I can’t let them know how obsessed I am. I must remain in control.
My voice grows louder. “You touch her and you die. Is that clear?”
“Told you,” he says to his friend, too stupid to be frightened. “She does mean something to him. Maybe he’s her sugar daddy.”
“Then get some money out of him,” the other voice yells. “Good money.”
“A million,” the one in charge says. “Put it in the car or I cut her throat right now.”
I make my voice sound fearful. “You’ll get your money but I need time. I don’t have that much cash on me.”
“Thirty minutes to find it or she’s dead. Clock’s ticking.”
The line cuts out. I turn to Alex. “When they come out, hold them. Do not kill them. Got it?”
He nods. I head for the front door of the brothel. Peter sees me approaching, straightening up at once. “Don Rossi,” he says, inclining his head. He’s almost as tall as me but he looks frightened. He knows how my reputation was earned.
“I’m going in,” I tell him.
“Have to call the boss.” He sounds apologetic. “He’ll kill me otherwise.”
“Give me five minutes first. You went for a piss and I stole your key.”
“I could do with taking a leak.” He walks away, tossing me the key as he goes.
I get inside the brothel. It used to be an arcade. It’s still got the stained carpet and some of the machines though the screens are cracked and dark. Near the front is an office, banknotes piled neatly together.
Most of the rest of the space has been divided up into rooms. Cells is more accurate. The door to each of them is locked.
Through grime smeared windows I can see hookers slumped on their stained mattresses, chains around their ankles. Some are asleep. Those awake glance up at me, fear in their eyes. They think I’m a potential client. I move from one window to the next. At least a dozen women, all locked up, all slaves to Petrovitch’s greed.
It’s what drove the wedge between him and my father. A lot of money to made in flesh, Petrovitch used to say. My father had standards, no women or kids.
Petrovitch tried to persuade him to change his mind but he refused. Looking in the cells, I know my father made the right decision. He might have been a drunk but he kept his standards.
At the end of the row, I push a door open and step into a lounge that stinks of stale beer and sweat. I stop dead. My heart catches in my throat. There she is.
She looks as beautiful as ever, more so against the filth of the surroundings. Behind her the two men stand like they’re in charge. The bulldog has a gun to her head. The beanpole does the talking. “You bring the money?” he asks.
“Outside with the Bentley. Flight is booked. You’ve got two hours to get to the airport. Leave her with me and walk.”
He turns and grins at his colleague. “Told you he wasn’t all that. We’re home free, buddy.”
They scurry past me, their relief palpable. They’re fools to think they’ve escaped death. It’s only been delayed a little while I check if she's okay.
Turning to Emma, I see the fear and the relief warring in her eyes. “Did they hurt you?” I ask as I hold out a hand to lift her to her feet.
As our fingers touch, a jolt of something shoots into me, sparking a fire that threatens to consume me whole.
She feels it too, her pupils dilating as she looks at me. “Those girls,” she says, glancing past me toward the cells. “I didn’t know it was like this.”
“Not all of them are this bad. Igor Petrovitch keeps all his girls in places like this. Most of them are doped up to keep them pliant. Come on, let’s move.”
“My sister almost ended up in a place like this.” She shudders as I guide her past the cells. “Where are we going?” She’s in a daze. I’m not surprised. This is no place for a soul as pure as hers.
“We’re going to my place.”
“What about Amelia? Last she saw, I was being dragged out of our apartment. Is she all right?”
It tugs at my heart that her first thought is for her sister. “Those two are the only existing threat. My men are watching your apartment just in case. They will make sure nothing happens to her. You have my word.”
She lets me guide her past the last of the cells into the open air. Wincing at the light, she gasps at the sight of the two men, bound and waiting for me.
Alex stands beside them, gun in his hand. Peter is looking up at the sky like it’s particularly interesting today.
“Did they give you anything useful?” I ask Alex.
He nods, kicking the man nearest to him. “This skinny son of a bitch wouldn’t stop talking. Petrovitch took the case out of the dumpster himself. He’s got it hidden somewhere but they don’t know where. Hoping to use it to steal your deal but he’s not cracked the code yet.”
“Of course. He blackmails the committee, they sell to him instead of me. We get nothing. Can he crack the code?”
“I hired three from Langley to work on it. He’s got more chance of licking my nuts while I’m dressed as Taylor Swift.” The nearest guy groans. He gives him another kick. “Can I kill them now? Their whining is getting on my nerves.”
“And take the pleasure from me?” I walk up to the first man, kneeling beside him. “You scared her,” I say, digging my finger into his cheek, forcing it through the flesh. He roars into his gag but I don’t stop until I’ve ripped his cheek wide open. “I warned you what would happen.”
I leave him to scream, turning to his colleague. The bulldog shakes with terror as I take out my knife and move it toward his eyes. “I ‘m good with this,” I say. “I can slice your eyelids off without damaging anything else. That way you can’t stop watching while I cut your friend into pieces.” I move the knife closer, enjoying his terror. “Make you eat them all before I kill you.”
“Stop,” Emma says behind me. “Stop torturing him.”
I get back to my feet and glare at her. “They kidnapped you. You expect me to give them flowers and thank them? I thought you’d want them dead.”
She glares back at me. “No one deserves to be tortured. Not even them.”
I can’t help but admire her. I’ve got a knife in my hand, two bound men bleeding at my feet. Yet she stands up to me. So shy but with such a strong moral core. “They hurt you, kidnapped you, conned your father. Why do you care what happens to them?”
“You shouldn’t torture them. It says as much about you as it does about them. Please, for my sake. Stop torturing them.”
“So be it.” I take out my gun, shooting the two bound men in the head. “Satisfied?” I ask as my ears ring from the shots.
I walk toward the car. “You can’t leave those women back there,” she says, pointing at the brothel. “Please. You have to help them.”
Alex raises his eyebrows as I turn back toward Peter. I know what he’s thinking. We don’t like what Petrovitch does but maintaining the truce is more important than getting involved in Russian affairs.
I walk up to Peter. “You got the keys to the cells?” I ask.
“Nope,” he replies.
I put my gun under his chin. “You sure?”
“Oh, you mean these keys?” He pulls them out of his jacket and hands them over.
In return I rummage out a couple of hundred bucks from my wallet. “I hear South America is pleasant this time of year.”
“Was hoping to get working on my tan.”
He takes off with the money, leaving me to head back inside. I unlock one door after another, the smell making me retch.
As the women stagger out, thanking me in Russian, a thought occurs to me. I go into the office, picking up the pile of banknotes on the desk. I take the cash and follow them out, handing it to Alex. “Divide it up,” I say.
I take Emma by the arm and lead her toward my car as Alex watches me closely. “Happy?” I ask.
“You did the right thing. You should be happy.”
Alex taps my shoulder. “A word, boss?”
“Wait in the car,” I tell Emma. “What is it?”
He lowers his voice. “Petrovitch will work out you came for her. He still has the suitcase. If he does crack the code on the file, he’ll have everything he needs to win the deal. That’s a billion dollars down the pan. Enough money for him to raise a private army, take over the whole city. Get revenge on you.”
“Is the church ready?”
“What if your name doesn’t protect her?”
“Honeymoon until the day of the deal. Out of the country, out of danger.” I head over to where Emma’s sitting in the car. Pulling the door open, I lean in. Time she finds out her fate. “What is it?” she asks. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I climb in beside her. “We’re getting married.”