23. Romeo
Chapter 23
Romeo
T he pleas of a man begging for his life echo around the room, falling on deaf ears. We found this topo following us on the way to the helicopter pad from the gala. Daniele clocked onto him and after shooting a text to Massimo, we diverted and collared him in a dead end near a deserted warehouse. It didn’t take long for him to start begging for his life, and now, as I stand behind Aldo with Massimo beside me, his whining is starting to grate on my nerves.
Not long ago, Aurora was in this room and far more accepting of her fate than the coward before us. We haven’t even started yet and the stench of urine permeates the air.
I shrug out of my jacket, handing it to Aldo as I slide past him. Meticulously, I roll up the sleeves of my shirt, circling the guy— Giorgio —as he sits, bound to the chair. He was very forthcoming with the fact that he’s a nobody from a rival family. Still, everybody knows something ; it’s just going to be a case of figuring out if he has anything of significance.
Wide, watery eyes meet mine when he pleads, “Please, Mr. Bianchi, I have a family. I’m not who you think I am.”
Walking to stand in front of him, I hold my hand out to the side expectantly. Aldo places a pair of pliers into my palm. I keep my face neutral, tilting my head to the side as I look down at him and ask, “So, you do not work for Elio Morretti?”
Elio is the head of a rival family. Sometimes, as Massimo’s father did with Elio’s, we can reach an agreement to keep the peace. When each man sticks to his business, we can save ourselves a lot of hassle, but rumor has it Elio is spiraling. Word was sent last night from Sicily that Elio had taken out the head of a family on the West Coast without a care for the consequences. He’s moved himself to the top of our suspect list. It would make sense that he’d be working with Francesco. After all, before Elio’s father passed, Francesco was the go-between for the families.
Giorgio’s eyes dart around the room to Massimo and Aldo. Nobody will save you . When his focus returns to me, he finally stutters, “Well, I mean…yes. I do, but I don’t know anything. I just do as I’m told and keep my head down. I’m barely a blip on his radar.”
Moving to stand behind him, I keep my voice steady when I say, “The thing is, Giorgio, I’m the head of a family, I know as well as anyone that a man of your position knows more than you’re letting on.”
He seems to consider what I’ve said for a moment, the tremors still wracking his body. “I swear. I don’t know anything and even if I did, if I told you, I’m a dead man.”
Exhaling heavily, I reply, “The problem is, you’re a dead man either way. You have a choice. Either you tell me what you know and I’ll make it quick and painless. Or you don’t and you’ll wish you had.”
Holding onto his nose, I force his head back, stuffing the pliers into his mouth. Giorgio thrashes around as much as his bindings will allow. The chair moves under his weight, the metal scraping on the concrete floor. A few solid yanks, and I pull the pliers out, his molar held in the clamps. A mix of blood and saliva drips from it as I drop it into the metal tray Aldo holds out, ringing out a satisfying tinkle as it hits the base.
Giorgio wails, blood running down his chin, mingling with the tears as he begs, “Please. I don’t know anything about Elio’s operations.”
Ignoring him, I roll my neck and bend to look him in the eyes. “Did you know, the average human has thirty-two teeth? Some of them won’t be as easy to pull as that one, Giorgio. In fact, I had a guy in your position once, the tooth had grown into the jaw bone and he kept passing out from the pain. Of course, we’d stop and wait for him to wake up because it’s no fun when you don’t feel every yank and twist. Unfortunately for him, it did mean that the torture went on for days instead of hours.”
Straightening, I circle him again, watching as his shoulders reach for his ears and he tucks his chin. Smirking, I come to a stop in front of him, pocketing one hand. “I’ll ask you one time and one time only. Who placed the order on my family?”
Giorgio squeezes his eyes shut. His skin is clammy, and he flinches when I slam the pliers on the arm of his chair, demanding an answer. Stammering, he cries out, “I don’t know anything.”
“ Cazzate! ” My hand flies from my pocket, wrapping around his throat and applying enough pressure for his eyes to bulge. His mouth opens in a silent scream and his head rears back, pushing the chair onto its back legs. I stuff the pliers into his mouth, the metal clanging on his teeth. Muffled cries fill the room, his limbs fighting against the restraints, keeping him tied to the chair.
With as much force as I can, I pull out a canine this time. I ease up on his throat, holding the tooth up for him to see. “Thirty-one teeth, Giorgio. Tell me the truth and I’ll consider letting you leave.”
We both know it’s a lie .
A cocktail of Giorgio’s blood and saliva lands on my white shirt when he spits at me, his face transforming from fear to hatred in the blink of an eye. “ Fanculo! ”
Releasing him, I drop the pliers and his tooth into the metal tray before turning toward Massimo. He cocks a brow, and I crack my neck. Grabbing between the buttons of my shirt and ripping it open.
I turn back to Giorgio, shrugging out of my shirt and leaving me in nothing but my undershirt. With a calm that portrays none of the disgust and fury rushing through my veins, I say, “It’s clear you have nothing of use to tell me. So, here’s how it’s going to go. Aldo will slit your throat.” Giorgio’s eyes bulge, his breaths coming in rasping pants. “You’ll sit here until you take your last breath and then he’ll dissolve your flesh in hydrochloric acid. When all that’s left of you is bone, he’ll grind them down and Massimo’s gardener will make use of you. Your existence will be erased from this world and your family will be left wondering where you are until they, too, no longer exist.”
Giorgio cries out, begging and pleading as I walk from the room. Massimo is hot on my heels, a dark chuckle falling from his lips as muffled screams follow us back upstairs.
“I really thought he’d break after the first tooth. Maybe next time, I can take a crack at it?”
Grunting in reply, I push through the door into the main house. It closes behind us, blanketing the house in silence. The beginning of a headache pounds behind my eyes and I let out a heavy sigh.
Sensing my mood, Massimo doesn’t say anything else as we move through the house. In less than an hour, a man will be dead and we’ll be no closer to finding out who is targeting the family, much less what their end goal is.
Massimo strides into the office ahead of me, making a beeline for the drinks trolley. Pressing two fingers into my temple, I move them in small circles before taking a seat in front of his desk and staring out of the window at the rose garden. A three-finger pour of scotch is thrust under my nose, and I take it, slinging back the contents.
“I’ll have Aldo grab a couple of men and stake out the house again. It feels like our next best lead.”
It’s our only lead, but I don’t need to point that out to him. “We’ll need to put someone on Elio too. Reach out to Callum and have him do some digging to find him.”
Massimo nods, his mood just as dark as mine. This is a lot more tangled than it appeared when I first arrived. I have no doubt that Francesco built the bomb, but somebody ordered the hit. Somebody with enough sway to convince others that their plan will work. When he worked for Massimo’s family, Francesco was nothing more than a soldato . He followed instructions; he didn’t issue them. I don’t buy that he’d have the presence to pull off something like this.
I can’t help but feel like we’re missing a piece of the puzzle.