12. Basilio #2
“Nor mine. Though your girl on the other hand-” Dante left the sentence unfinished, and I could already picture the fucker on the line fuming with anger.
“Your arses approach Davina and I’ll slice off both of your dicks,” he growled, confirming my suspicions. I didn’t give a shit about his woman. Or any other for that matter.
“I’d like to see you try,” I said, bored with the conversation.
“I have a few years on you two. You two were still shitting in your diapers while I dealt with the Colombians, Russians, and you, fucking Italians.”
Yeah, so he was an old prick! If I was in his shoes, I wouldn’t have reminded anyone of my age.
“Gosh, I’m feeling loved,” I drawled. “How about you, Dante?”
“So damn loved,” Dante sneered. “Did you send your woman to my casino?”
“Tell me exactly what happened,” he demanded, avoiding the question. It confirmed my suspicion that he had no clue what his woman was doing.
“Well, she pulled the emergency handle, ruined the night’s earnings, and then to top it off, she dumped lavender oil all over my marble floors. The fucking building smells like a spa,” Dante deadpanned, annoyed. “Not exactly the atmosphere I was going for.”
“Was she alone?” Brennan demanded to know.
“The casino was crowded but she stood alone,” Dante answered, his tone even. “Not to worry, old man, she didn’t have another daddy there with her.”
“I want to see proof,” he demanded. We expected it.
“Thought you might ask,” Dante drawled. “The footage is coming your way now.”
We heard Liam’s phone dinging over the speakerphone.
“I need other angles too,” he added. “If she’s at the casino, she has to have played slots or at least a game. Why would she show up there just to pull the fire alarm and dump lavender oil on your precious marble floors?”
“Hold on a second,” I jumped in, then muted the line.
“My woman is already on my father’s radar thanks to Emilia. I don’t want Liam asking questions about her as well,” I told Dante. “First time I saw her, she jumped out of his window. So it is likely he’d recognize her.”
Fuck! I slipped and he knew it by the knowing smug smile he gave me. “Your woman, huh?” When I didn’t answer, he continued, “Does she know?”
“She will.” Very soon.
“Fine, Basilio. I’ll send him other angles, except for the one where we see your woman.”
I unmuted the speakerphone.
“Dante is sending you footage from the south and west cameras. The other cameras have confidential information so you won’t be getting that.” There was nothing more that he needed to know.
A minute of silence and I could only picture how he fumed as he watched the tape.
No fucking idea what his woman was thinking throwing lavender oil on the marble.
I’ve looked at the footage a few times. It didn’t escape me the way Dante looked at the girl that kicked him in the nuts.
I knew my cousin well and he wanted her.
The fact that he didn’t even mention her confirmed the fact.
“What’s the goddamn damage?” Liam’s voice came through. No other comment, not that I expected it. The evidence was rather convincing.
And another deal was struck.
* * *
It was late in the day when I found myself in front of Vittorio’s red brick duplex in the city.
He lived on one side while his mother lived on the other side.
His mother couldn’t stand Emilia, and the old woman barely spoke to her son since he married her.
She knew, just as others did, how Emilia sacrificed her daughter for her own gain.
While her daughter was left at my father’s mercy, Emilia went off to marry Vittorio and live a much better life than her daughter.
Naturally, every decent mother despised her.
I banged on the door. Once. Twice.
Then waited. The sounds of footsteps, too heavy to belong to a woman.
The door opened and I came face-to-face with Vittorio.
Surprise flashed on his face. “Basilio, what are you doing here?”
I ran a thumb across my jaw, giving him a hard look. “I came to deal with Emilia.”
He clenched his teeth. “What did she do?”
Stepping aside, he motioned for me to enter. I walked through the door as I unbuttoned my jacket to ensure I had quick access to my holster.
Once the door shut behind me, I said, “I warned her to keep her mouth shut about something important to me. And she went behind my back and fucking yapped to my father.”
Displeasure crossed his face and the fucker looked tired. Almost defeated. He still wore his suit, but his tie was slightly crooked and his silver hair a wild mess, like he pushed his hand through it one too many times.
“She has to be dealt with, Vittorio,” I growled. “Thalia is paying her mother’s price every single day. Emilia put someone I care deeply about on my father’s radar. She’s not worth it.”
“Thalia loves her mother,” he grumbled. “It will destroy her.”
My expression darkened. “She stays with my father just to protect Emilia. She is dying every single day and refuses my help to run away. Because of her mother. To protect her.” He knew it, his expression said it all.
“He’ll kill her one of these days,” I hissed.
“Thalia is lucky she has survived this long.”
Soft footsteps approached us, shuffling over the hardwood floor. The moment Emilia spotted us, her steps halted and she watched us with those dark eyes. The sound of the city buzzed outside, but it didn’t compare to the volatile atmosphere inside this home.
“What are you doing here?” she whispered, her eyes wide. She wore a red, satin robe and her dark hair loose down her shoulders. It made me sick to my stomach that she lived her life basking in luxury and content, while her daughter was being tortured thirty minutes down the road.
“What did I say when I came to your shop?” I drawled, seemingly casual.
She held my gaze, the lies and deceit swimming in her gaze. “ Niente . I said nothing.”
“You’re a piece of work,” I said. “You don’t hesitate to destroy anyone in your path, including your own daughter.”
“I love my daughter,” she whimpered.
Pathetic, selfish liar. “When was the last time you visited Thalia?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. When she didn’t answer, I offered her one. “It has been a whole fucking year.”
She didn’t deserve her daughter.
She glanced at Vittorio hoping for help. She ruined his life too, running around on him and making a fool of his good heart. Why would he back her up?
Realizing no help would come from her husband, Emilia straightened her shoulders and tilted her chin up. “My relationship with my daughter is none of your concern,” she spat out. “And Gio is the boss, not you.”
Fucking bitch. “How do you want to pay for your betrayal?” I deadpanned. “Quick and relatively painless? Or long and very painful?”
It was more than she deserved, although she’d got off easier than her daughter.
Her expression fell for a moment, but then she got herself together. “Y-you must be joking. Your father won’t allow it.”
“I warned you to keep your mouth shut, didn’t I?” I said coldly, fixing her with a hard look.
“I-I didn’t say anything,” she lied again.
Vittorio’s mouth thinned. The guilt was plain as day on Emilia’s face. The two of us shared a look. No words were needed. Either he’d do it, or I would.
He tilted his head, allowing me to finish her. Not that his permission meant much. It was either him pulling a trigger. Or me.
I pulled out my gun and then the silencer, my gaze icing over her. She opened her mouth to scream, but not a single tone left her throat.
A muffled pop sounded in the room, blood splattered across the hardwood and she slumped down onto the ground.
The bitch was dead.