Chapter 14
Fourteen
ROME
Mateo holds the door of my penthouse open so I can walk through with Lulu in my arms.
“How long will she be out?” I ask as I pass by.
“Let me do some math.” He winks one eye closed and looks at the ceiling. “She didn’t drink much. I’d say a couple more hours, probably.”
Hours? The fuck? What if she’d drunk more than a few sips? I turn and scowl again at Mateo.
He shrugs. “I had to think fast on my feet, man,” he argues.
“Fuck you. I’m putting her in my bed, then we’re going down to the cell.”
“Let’s hope Carson hasn’t killed him already when we get there.”
“He knows better,” I say over my shoulder as I climb the stairs.
I’ve never enjoyed holding women. I’m not a snuggler. But having this woman in my arms, against me, feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
I want to feel her. I want to hold her. Yes, I want to fuck her until we’re both unconscious, but it’s more than that.
I want her.
And now, she’s mine.
Gently, I lay her on top of my bed and cover her with a spare blanket.
I felt their glances. Thankfully, they were wise enough not to say anything …
to my face. They all know I fuck women. Often.
But I never bring women here. I’ve never let a woman come into my bedroom and certainly have never had one sleep or fuck here.
Hell no.
But it feels right to have my firefly here.
Yet they’ve said nothing. They’ve only had my back.
“We’re all going with you.”
That’s family. Fuck, that’s my family.
“Sleep it off,” I murmur and kiss her sweet forehead. She smells like roses.
With one last look, I stride out of the room and down to where Mateo is waiting. Julian and Carson are already at the cell.
We take the elevator to the basement. Each of our main properties has a room just like this one for interrogation purposes.
Hooks hang from the ceiling for strapping men up.
A few wooden chairs sit off to the side of the room.
There’s a drain in the middle and a workbench placed next to the chair where the man who tried to hurt my firefly is tied up, already swollen and bloody.
“You started without us,” I say casually as I approach the man. I shove my hands in my pockets as I stare down at him.
“Just warmed him up a bit,” Carson says from where he leans casually against the wall.
Julian is at the workbench, pulling out tools, and Mateo walks behind him.
We have four men outside the door. We won’t need them, but they’re there, just in case.
“I’m going to start nicely,” I inform him, looking into his hard brown eyes. I can already tell he has no intention of speaking.
That will pass when I start to skin him.
“Fuck you,” he growls, and I nod, then pace away two strides before I take my jacket off and toss it aside. I’m still wearing all of my weapons from the op in LA. I still have blood on my shirt. That will have to go before my girl wakes up.
I tug off my tie and roll my sleeves before I turn back around, and when the man looks at me again, his eyes narrow.
“I know you,” he says.
“Do you?” I lift an eyebrow. “I’m intrigued. Who am I?”
He tips his head to the side as if trying to place me. “You’re Alexander.” He looks around the room. “Why do the Kings of Vegas give a shit what I do with that little slut?”
I backhand him and watch with satisfaction when blood flies out of the corner of his mouth.
“I’m the one asking questions.”
He spits blood onto my shoe, then grins up at me. His teeth are red. “I’m not in the mood to answer them.”
“No?”
I nod and walk over to Julian, who hands me a cleaver off the tool bench.
In one smooth move, I sever three of his fingers from his left hand, and he wails in pain.
“Good one,” Carson says with a satisfied nod. “You always have the best aim. You must spend a lot of time practicing.”
“It’s an art form,” Mateo adds.
“That probably hurts,” I agree, eyeing the hand bleeding down the chair and onto the concrete floor. “Who do you work for?”
He shakes his head.
“You’re about to lose all of your fingers, and I don’t like repeating myself,” I inform him. “Who do you work for?”
More headshakes.
So I take the rest of the fingers on that hand.
“Fuck.” Mateo smirks. “How’s he supposed to jack off now?”
“He still has another hand,” Julian says with a negligent shrug.
“For now,” I add. “Who do you work for? And before you shake your ugly head, remember that I have no qualms about skinning you alive. Your death will be a slow one.”
“I’m going to die here anyway.” His face is a mask of pain.
“True.” I shrug. “But I can make it fast, or it can last for days. So I’m going to ask you one more time. Who the fuck do you work for?”
“Look, I’m just a foot soldier,” he says, but that’s not what I asked.
“Listen. I’m going to call you Vinny, okay? Listen, Vinny, I didn’t ask what you do.”
“Christ, just remove his spleen,” Carson growls as Vinny licks his lips.
“I was just supposed to kidnap her, not hurt her.” He’s talking fast now, as if this will keep him alive. “Okay, maybe rough her up a little, but that’s nothing she’s not used to. I had to deliver her alive.”
I backhand him again, wishing I could kill the fucker right now. “…but that’s nothing she’s not used to.” Fuck.
Her bruises.
The scar on her back.
Someone hurt her … often.
I fist his greasy hair in my hand and pull his face back.
“Who. Do you. Work for?”
He folds his lips together, and I hold my hand out.
“Pliers.”
“Now it’s getting fun.” Carson’s voice is full of glee as he rubs his hands together. “Start with the molars.”
He’s a sick son of a bitch.
“Last chance,” I tell him. “Before you lose all of your teeth.”
Now, he starts to cry.
But he doesn’t talk.
When the last one is gone, I squat before him. He passed out from the pain twice. Maybe from a little blood loss.
We woke him right up again.
This could go on for days.
“You’re going to tell me who you work for, Vinny, and why you were trying to touch something that belongs to me.”
“Doesn’t,” he whispers, and I narrow my eyes.
“Who does she belong to?”
“The boss.”
“This is fucking tedious,” Mateo says as he drags his hand down his face. “And she’ll wake up soon.”
“Let’s take his foot,” I announce as I stand, and Vinny moans. “TELL ME WHO YOU FUCKING WORK FOR!”
I pick up an axe and swing it around.
“Tell me. Now.”
“Rizzo.”
The room stills.
My eyes find Julian’s.
“Salvatore Rizzo?” I ask as I let the axe fall to the floor.
“Yeah.” He’s breathing hard. “Kill me.”
“Why does he want the girl?” Julian asks.
“Do kno. Jush do wha tol.”
I spin on my heel and leave the room. There’s a scream and then silence behind me as Carson’s the last to leave.
“Christ, Rome,” Julian says.
“Not here,” I reply as I press the call button for the elevator, then press my hand to the palm reader for the penthouse floor.
We’re silent as we ride up, and when we walk inside, I peel off to go check on my firefly.
She’s still out cold.
I trash the clothes I was wearing, take a shower to get any blood or body matter off my body, and change into fresh slacks and a shirt then walk downstairs.
“Who the fuck is she?” Julian demands. “Because if she has the Italian Mafia after her, she’s not just an anonymous bartender, and she kept saying she’s not going back to her father.”
“Is she a setup?” Mateo asks with a scowl.
“No.” I pace in front of the windows that give me a view of the Strip. The glass is bulletproof, and treated so I can see out, but no one can see in.
“Rome, listen,” Julian says. He’s always the most reasonable of us, and that’s not saying much because the man can be unhinged. “It’s a little too convenient that Rizzo tried to take over my port, and his men tried to steal your bartender at the same time.”
“You really don’t know her,” Carson adds. “She’s worked for you for two fucking days. She could be a scout for them. A spy.”
I shake my head, but they keep going.
“Stop thinking with your dick,” Mateo says with growing impatience, and I cross my arms over my chest.
“You didn’t see her the night she came in here,” I reply evenly. “I know she had nothing to do with what happened in LA. I have questions, and we’ll get the answers, but I’m telling you she’s not a fucking spy.”
“I don’t trust her,” Julian says.
“That’s fine,” I reply. “Because you do trust me.”
He’s already shaking his head when I hear a noise come from upstairs, and we all go perfectly still. Suddenly, feet slap on the hardwood floors, and we turn to the stairs as Lulu runs down them and toward the front door.