27. Mixing Business With Pleasure
Chapter 27
Mixing Business With Pleasure
Giordano
“Where’s Cillian?” I kick the man in the stomach—who’s laying flat on his back on the ground, tied with thick metal chains. The sound of small droplets of blood hitting the drain beneath him echo throughout the room.
He coughs, squeezing his eyes shut. Silence. He doesn’t answer my questions. He isn’t being complicit . He takes me away from my woman, and now he’s not answering my questions.
Two things which make me angry.
“I said?—”
“I’m not going to tell you anything,” he huffs out, groaning in pain.
“Fair enough.” I raise my brows, puffing out my cheeks. “Fine. Have it your way.” I casually stroll over to the table of knives. “Dull or sharp?” I loosen my tie, contemplating as I toss it on the ground.
An easy decision. I select the sharpest one.
More enticing.
I stalk directly to the man on the ground. “Are you going to tell me what I need… now ?” I flick the knife across his arm, dragging it down his sweating flesh. Not enough pressure to draw blood, more so adding mental pressure at the moment.
“You sick fuck?—”
“Not what I need.” A sick, sadistic laugh rips through my chest as I plunge my fist downward—sending the knife through his hand. More than likely severing a tendon.
His loud, obnoxious screaming fills the room of Block C, reverberating off of the four white walls. Well, one wall’s currently being painted red with his blood.
Love a good contrast.
Hmm. Antonella’s stunning in red.
I suck air through my teeth, wincing. “ Oooh , that’s not going to heal well.”
“Fu—uck you,” he chokes out between sobs. He’s weak. Not going to last long enough.
“You should’ve answered my simple question. I’ll ask you again, in case you’ve forgotten. You know, stab wound and all.” I hum, leaning closer into his ear. Pools of sweat profusely drip from his forehead, down underneath his neck. “Where is Cillian O’Duinn?” I ask, seething through my tightly clenched teeth. I hate to have to repeat myself multiple times.
The blond man gulps. “I don’t know where he is.”
“Are you lying?” I lift the blade out of his hand. A ton of blood spurts out, gushing all over me. My nose scrunches, and my top lip curls up in disgust. There goes another shirt. Cazzo. I watch the man wiggle around. There’s no where he can go.
He’s stuck.
“No—o, man, no.” He shakes his head—eyes wide with fear. “I don’t know where he is.”
I tap the end of the blade against my chin, humming quietly. “Why is it that all of you are out here, doing his bidding, yet none of you are aware of his location?” I circle around to the other side of him—his unharmed hand.
For now .
He winces, watching as the blood oozes out from his fresh wound. “We g-get emails.”
Now, we’re getting somewhere.
“What emails?” I hold the knife above his non-wounded hand. Leverage.
“Fuck—I don’t know,” his voice quivers with fear. “They’re different every time.”
“What’s the most recent one?” I place the tip of the blade over the back of his hand. Pressure. Again, not enough to cut his skin at first.
“Get Antonella Vitale, from C.”
My left eye twitches. Absolutely not. “And what does he want with this… Antonella Vitale ?” My nose scrunches up, a vein popping in my neck.
He can’t fucking have her. He’s not going to take her from me. Even if he has all his men scavenging the city for her. And I’m absolutely not going to tell this guy she’s mine.
She belongs to me.
“He wants her. That’s all I kn—ow,” his voice cracks.
I hum, not moving the knife. Steady, now. I can’t get ahead of myself and kill him yet. What if he knows more?
“What’s the email address?” I squint at the man.
He shakes his head. “Again, different every time. That's all we get.”
He covers his tracks. The disconnected phone number is one thing, but multiple emails isn’t surprising.
“And you’ve never met him in person?” I scratch my chin.
He shakes his head.
“Fine.” I shove the knife deep in his hand. He’s answered every question with honesty. However, I’m unsatisfied with the lack thereof . His ear-piercing scream fills the room.
“Y-you fucker! I answered you,” he says between choking out sobs. Blood drips onto the concrete floor.
I leave the knife in the middle of his hand. “Did you, though?” I chuckle manically. I don’t even recognize this version of myself anymore. Have I gone too far? No . “If anything, I’m left with more questions.”
He groans—taking deep, heavy breaths. He won’t be much longer with what I have planned for him.
Death.
“What does he want with Antonella?”
“Probably to fuck her, sell her. Why else? Why do you want—” He pants. “To know?”
My jaw clenches, tempted to drive this knife right into his eye for questioning me back. “None of your concern.”
I give in to the temptation.
My phone vibrates from a phone call. I don’t like pulling out my phone during this time, but when I glance down—I have to answer.
“Maria?” My brows knit tightly together. One, worried about what’s going on. Two, pissed off about an interruption. She doesn’t call unless it’s an emergency. Xander’s eyes dart toward me, now swirling with worry.
Exactly.
Why would Maria be calling?
“Giordano,” she says in a hushed, shaky tone.
“What’s going on? Stai bene?” An uneasy feeling washes over me. I grip onto the phone tighter.
“Sì…” she says, in a louder, more clear voice this time. “Someone tried to break in.”
“You’re kidding.” I stand, frozen in complete disbelief. A break in—attempted or successful—has never happened before. One person crosses my mind before anything, or anyone else. “Is Antonella there?”
“No, she left about an hour before it happened,” she responds.
Where did she go? She doesn’t need to tell me her whereabouts, but I wish she did. I’d be lying to myself if I said I didn’t want her to. I nod once, exhaling a breath of relief. “How far did they get in?”
“They didn’t. Not even past the security gate. An attempt was made, and there’s a note.”
“A note? What did it say?” I peer up at Xander through my tightly knitted brows.
He stops chewing, phlegmatic as ever.
“Sì, it read…” She pauses, and there’s a shuffling of papers through the speaker. “Give me the girl. No one will get hurt.”
My grip’s so fucking tight around the phone—I swear I’ll break it any second. I glare at my underboss. “Not happening. I’m with Xan right now, I’ll tell him everything and he’ll be over immediately to install more security.”
“Sì… one more thing?”
“Yes?” I yank on the collar of my shirt, hoping to end the conversation soon to get back to work, knowing everything’s alright.
“Don’t give him the girl,” her voice is in a lower pitch. Serious. Maria never meddles, yet she’s this time. He won’t get her.
Where did she come from? And why’s she the center of his attention? Why did he have tabs on her before I knew her?
“No, I’m not.” I remain as calm as I can. Maria doesn’t deserve the brunt of my anger. “Did Antonella happen to tell you where she was going before she left?”
“Something about needing to get a new swim suit to go in the pool. Ah, right! She went to the store. She asked me if I needed anything before she left. Sweet girl.” She laughs.
“Maria?”
“Sì?”
“I’m happy you’re okay, and everything else is good. Ciao.” I shake my head as I end the call.
“Everything alright?” There’s a certain shake in his voice, fear. Which is something foreign to him.
Maybe everything isn’ t alright.
“Xan.”
“Yeah?” He unchains one of the legs. I went too far. The man bled out onto the floor before I could get more answers out of him.
“There was an attempted break in, someone trying to get her. How did he find out where I live?”
“Aside from the fact it’s a massive villa in the middle of Chicago? Beats me,” he retorts.
“Statazit.” I snort. “What do you think Cillian wants with Toni?”
“The fuck you think?” He spit out, huffing as he drags the body by the legs across the floor. I grab the body by the arms, following Xander. We need to get the body off of the chains for the clean-up crew to come in and… dispose .
“I attempted to contact the number you gave. Dead line. Disconnected.” Xander laughs as we walk out of Block C together, into the cold, dark concrete hall of the warehouse extension of our office building. “Want to go out tonight for drinks?” he asks, changing the subject entirely.
I haven’t had a night out in forever. Lately, I’ve been enjoying the company of a certain delicacy.
I shrug. “Sure. But we need to amp up the security at my villa before we go. I want cameras installed at every single angle outside. Flood lights. Recording twenty-four, seven. The entire works.”
Xander rolls his eyes. “As if you weren’t already overbearing with the ones you had before.”
“Yeah, yeah.” I push him by the shoulder. “I’m going to go home and change. Grab all your tech.” My hands move in a weird gesture at him. “Install the tech, and we’ll take your car to the bar.”
“No girls! Only guys night, tonight!” He shouts as I’m walking away from him.
Sure —says the man who hasn’t had a girlfriend in years.