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We rejoined each other in the kitchen. The bottom floor was clear. Alessio pointed upstairs. I nodded.
I stayed behind him as we took the stairs, going slow. At the landing, we paused. The bedroom door was ajar.
“Scopami forte, Nino!”
Deep grunts grew louder, the headboard rocking, hitting the wall. The sound told me the position of the bed in the room.
She moaned. “Sì, il grosso toro!” Big bull.
Alessio paused by the door and gestured for me to go right. I assumed he meant that he would then go left. I didn’t like catching him by surprise, but I would handle this my way. My need for revenge demanded it.
I held up my hand and pointed to myself. Alessio’s gray gaze went wide and he shook his head. He now knew I was about to go rogue.
When he tried to grab my arm, I evaded him and strode inside the bedroom. Nino was on top, still in his dress shirt with his pants around his thighs. The woman was completely naked. “Nino! How is that cocaine dick working out for you? Looks like it’s a lot of work.”
The woman screamed and Nino scrambled off her, about to lunge for his gun. I was by his side in an instant, pressing the barrel of my pistol into his head. “Don’t fucking move, stronzo.”
His mistress kept screaming. But she couldn’t leave because Alessio was blocking her side of the bed. “Lock her in the bathroom,” I told him without looking away from Nino. “And tell her to shut the fuck up.”
Alessio didn’t question it. He got the mistress off the bed and led her to the bathroom. I no longer paid attention. My focus was entirely on Nino.
He glared at me. “Who the fuck are you and what do you want?”
With my free hand, I reached and pulled the mask off my face. Nino didn’t immediately react. He was panting, his dick still out. His pupils were huge, the black nearly swallowing up his whole iris. Still high as shit, then.
“Don’t recognize me, coglione?” I asked. “You’ve been looking for me. You sent six of your friends to Scotland to visit me.”
His nostrils flared. “Ravazzani. You little shit.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Alessio there. “Find me a chair,” I called out. “I want Nino to have a seat for our chat.”
Nino sneered at me. “What are you planning? To call your father and have him come help you?”
He was either incredibly stupid or trying to rattle me into making a mistake. I smirked at him. “If my father were here, you’d already be dead. Are you so anxious to die, Nino?”
His skin flushed and his chest heaved with the force of his breaths. “You won’t kill me. It will start a war if you do.”
A chair hit the carpet with a thump. I motioned with the pistol. “Get up. Get in the chair.”
I eased back but kept the gun trained on him. He slowly rose from the bed, hitched up his pants, and walked to the chair. Alessio was right there, his pistol on Nino, as well.
“Is this your boyfriend, finocchio?” Nino asked, using a slur for a gay man. I hated that word.
“He’s the man who will put a bullet in your head if you don’t do what I say. Sit the fuck down,” I snapped.
Nino threw himself into the chair, his expression belligerent. “This is unwise. You don’t want to piss me off, cucciolo.” Puppy.
I reached into my pocket. “Here.” I held out a bunch of zip ties to Alessio. “Strap him to the chair.”
“Che cazzo—” Nino stood up, his face now showing signs of concern.
With a palm on his chest, I shoved him back down. “Don’t move or I’ll shoot you in the fucking face.”
I could almost hear Alessio’s disapproval as he took the restraints from me, but he said nothing. With efficiency, he began securing Nino’s wrists and ankles to the wooden chair. Nino threatened me the entire time, telling me what a mistake I was making. How his men would come after me if I hurt him, blah blah blah. I didn’t pay him any attention.
I finally had the man responsible for Paolo’s death in front of me.
And I was going to make him suffer.
