60. EPILOGUE 2
There are two more things I need to do before I can go home tonight.
The lust for revenge has been burning inside my veins since Scarlet told me about the two losers she dated before me.
It's not that I'm jealous of them. She is with me, not them. No. It’s that I hate what they did to her already fragile confidence.
A woman like her should be entering a room knowing she owns it.
Knowing that she is the most beautiful person in it.
Not wondering if one of her scars will be shown by a low-cut dress or a too-short skirt.
Tonight, I will give these two losers a taste of their own medicine. I promised Scarlet I wouldn't kill them. A promise I almost regret, but I gave my word, and I think for what I have in mind for them, this will be a far greater punishment.
My first stop takes me to a popular bar owned by Grigori. I figure I owe him a heads-up call. I dial his number.
"Antonio, my friend, what's up?"
"I'm about to cause a little stir in one of your bars," I inform him, straightening my tie.
"Alright, I'll let Piotr know to be on the lookout."
"Put it on my tab," I tell Grigori.
"How bad is it going to be?" He wants to know.
"It's just one civilian asshole who disrespected my wife," I fill him in.
"Then it's on the house." Grigori offers.
"I'll owe you."
"Just give him a good jab from me, too. Nobody disrespects women unpunished."
I hang up with a grin. Grigori is as bloodthirsty and monstrous as a mob boss should be, but his weakness for the gentler sex is well known.
There’s a rumor that he used to be Sir Lancelot in a previous life.
I disagree, but only because I've seen Grigori rip a man's throat out with his bare hands, and I doubt Sir Lancelot would have been capable of that. But, hey.
Vito isn't happy that I'm going in alone, but I compromised that he'll wait in the car, keeping it ready.
"I don't trust the Russians." He eyes the two bouncers at the front of the club.
"Neither do I," I laugh.
The bouncers nod at me as I walk by unchallenged, aware of the people standing in line eyeing me enviously. A few pretty girls flaunt their assets, but I don't even notice them. They're just background noise to me anymore. There is only one woman in the world I care about, and this is for her.
I notice him instantly; he's standing by a high table occupied by three very pretty girls.
All three of them are giggling at him, making gooey eyes.
A second man arrives, whom I recognize as his friend, Max.
Thanks to Scarlet, I've learned the value of social media.
Max and Scarlet's second ex, Les, have been friends since college.
They fancy themselves as a pair of playboys, a gift to womanhood.
"Well, if that isn't Lester Stock." I join the group of five jovially. Les shoots me a confused look, trying to figure out where to place me. He's a stockbroker with a Charlie Sheen obsession, who has watched Wall Street one too many times.
I let him see my platinum Rolex and diamond-studded cufflinks. I'm sure he recognizes my suit as one of Armani's finest. I can almost see the dollar symbols dancing in his eyes.
"Ladies, I hope you realize you're in the company of the Wolf of Wall Street ." I smile at the three girls. Les is too engrossed in trying to figure out who the fuck I am to notice the sarcasm in my voice.
"We've had some fun times, haven't we, old buddy?" I put my arm around Les and rub his head with a bit more vigor than necessary. He suppresses a yelp and forces a smile on his face.
"It's been a while," he moves a step away from me when I let go of him.
"Too long," I agree.
"I'm sorry, I don't seem to remember your name." Max, the perfect wingman, places a tray of drinks on the table.
"That's alright, we've never been formally introduced," I grab one of the beers and empty the glass halfway—weak American brew. I prefer Italian or German beer, something with a bit more kick than this light shit.
"We do have an acquaintance in common, though," I deepen my grin, and something in my eyes must warn Les off because he takes another step closer to his friend Max.
"You see, ladies," I lean my elbows on the table, all ready to be a charming confidante. "This man here used to date the most beautiful woman who has ever walked the Earth."
I have the girls' full attention as I twirl my glass of beer in my hands.
"He pursued her for over a year, begged her to go out with him; isn't that so, old buddy, Les?" I lift my head to stare at the man responsible for Scarlet's lack of confidence.
"Who the fuck are you?" Les seems to find some backbone.
"Do you know what happened to her?" I ask the girls, ignoring him.
The girls pick up on the rising tension at the table as well, but their mouths are open, and their eyes are wide as they listen to me as if hypnotized. "He dropped her just like that." I drop my glass of beer to the ground, where it shatters.
"And you know why?"
The blaring music and loud conversations around us drown out the shattering sound of the glass for all but a few people at closer tables, who begin to take notice of us.
The women shake their heads.
"Because this woman was abused as a child. Her body carries a few scars from it. And he didn't like that, did you, Les?"
The three women stare at Les in open disgust now. "Did you really do that?" one of them asks.
"I have no idea what the fuck this idiot is blabbering on about," Les blusters.
"That's shameful," another girl says and shakes her head.
"Hmm," I stare at Lester.
"Let's go," the third girl decides, and slides off the high chair.
I nod at them, "Ladies."
"What the fuck, man?" Les turns to me.
"Les, who is this guy?" Max chimes in, rolling up his sleeves to show off his arm muscles, probably earned by working out three hours a week at the gym when he's not busy ogling the women.
"I'm the guy who married the girl," I say with a grin. I put my hand behind Lester's head and smash it face-first into the four glasses left on the tray Max brought. Glass shatters and shards implant themselves into Lester's face.
"Oops," I say, "that's gonna leave some scarring."
Lester howls out in pain; Max moves back and forth in agitation, trying to figure out if he should attack me or help his friend. Other men at the neighboring tables move protectively in front of their women.
I raise my arms. "No harm, no foul."
Lester is falling to the ground, his face a bloody mess. He'll be staring at his scars for the rest of his life. Seems a fitting fate for an arrogant asshole like him.
For Rob, I have something similar in mind.
"You better take him to the ER before he bleeds out," I advise Max, throwing a few hundred on the table. "For the Uber; you shouldn't drink and drive."
Whistling, I leave the club. With perfect timing, Vito is already waiting for me, parked illegally in the second lane.
"How did it go?" He asks as I enter and sit down in the passenger seat.
"Very satisfying." I fill him in and then give him Rob's address.
Rob lives in a small duplex. Good, the neighbors will hear him scream and call the cops. I don't want to kill him. Well, I do, but I promised. So…
"Wait here, I won't be long," I tell Vito.
True to my word, I'm back ten minutes later. In the distance, we can already hear the sirens.
"What did you do to him?" Vito asks as he pulls away from the curb.
"I set his dick on fire." I douse my hands with disinfectant.
Vito chuckles, "That's a new one."
I nod, "I'm telling you, being in love brings out your creativity."
"Remind me never to get on your creative side." He turns to the freeway, "Home?"
"You know it."
Just thinking of Scarlet waiting for me there makes me smile.
This was for you, baby ; I stare at her beautiful face on my phone. Nobody will ever hurt you again . Not on my watch !
THE END of Book one in the Savage Kings of New York series. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing Antonio and Scarlet’s story.
Next up will be Enrico and Catalina’s story: Dangerous King