“Your silence is a response enough because all three of you were pretty fucking mouthy about who your boss is and what great plans he has to own every inch of this damn city.” I move closer to them, stopping in front of Joey, and I drag my knife down his face ever so lightly. “Your boss underestimates what I have the power to do or am fully capable of because unlike him, I value my men and this life that we are born into. I breath it. I crave it. I salivate for it.” I move to Paul and Mike and drag the knife down their faces. “I think he needs to be sent a message about just that, don’t you think?” I tilt my head and ask.
“Please, Don Ricci. I’m so fucking sorry. So, fucking sorry. I’ll do anything you want. Please don’t kill me.” Joey’s high-pitch voice sounds like nails being dragged on a chalk board.
“Anything I want. That is a very loaded statement coming from a small man like yourself.” I move in front of him, I can feel his hot breath against my face. The sweat is dripping down his face and there is fear in his soulless eyes. “Open your mouth,” I command angrily.
The little shit won’t open. Without even moving a muscle, one of my men behind him grips his hair, and pulls his. Joey’s eyes are wide, I grab his tongue with my thumb and the knuckle of my forefinger.
“Wait!” He tries to scream.
I release his tongue. “You best better be quick as my patience is wearing thin.”
The sweat is streams down his face. “I’ll tell you everything. Just please, don’t kill me.”
My gaze reaches Angelo’s before snapping to Joey’s. “Depends on the information to why Di Marco’s men showed up in my club.”
“Joey, shut your fucking mouth!” One of the rats yells. One of my men kick him in the back of his knees, making him fall to ground.
He licks his lips. “Ian Di Marco has been talking about his new wife on how she will be shared among his men. He has no use for a wife, just a woman to fill his needs when he wants. When he does need her, anyone who wants her can fuck her. Costa has no idea who he has married his daughter off too.”
My nostrils flare and images of Ian’s men taking advantage of her, humiliating her. Taking her innocence against her wishes. Only to be a toy at their discretion. Now, there is no way she can marry a man who will use her, hurt her and treat her like garbage. She deserves to be put on a pedestal like the queen that she is meant to be. My queen. Fuck my plan has changed.
“Angelo, check his phone.” I grit out.
On the table with all of my tools, lies the three’s discarded items. He pulls out Joey’s phone, stalks over to hold it up to his face to open it. Once the messages are open, I see Angelo is getting angrier by each one he reads. His jaw is tight. That’s all that I need to know.
“You’ve served your purpose.”
Joey’s eyes bug out of his head, and he tries to scream, but I reach my hand inside his mouth, grab his tongue and press my knife down hard as he tries to scream. A sly smile creeps against my lips before I slice through the flesh of his tongue. Bloodgushes down his face and pools in his mouth. It coats my hand, covers the blade and the handle. His screams bounce off the walls of the empty warehouse. I turn and hand it to Angelo who has a small box open. I drop it in there. I move to do the same to the other two.
I’m soaked in blood on my hands, my forearms and on my clothes. “Let that be a lesson to you for thinking you can come into my club and run your fucking mouth. And I’ll let Di Marco know his men are fucking cowards and fucking idiots.” I spin on my heel and place the knife back on the table. Not even bothering to wipe the blood off me, I look at Angelo and say firmly, “Have one of my associates deliver these three back, along with the gift box to Ian Di Marco. And make sure their mess is cleaned up.”
Angelo nods and says, “Yes, boss.”
I grab my jacket and make my way to my SUV. The heavy doors shut behind me, the rock crushes underneath my shoes. I climb inside, rest my head against the headrest trying to calm down from the information I just got. My hands reach in my pant pocket for my phone, I pull up the listening app on my phone with this overwhelming need to hear her voice. I told myself that this is just to get information on Costa and Di Marco, but it has become my new obsession with listening to her. Her voice relaxes me. It settles me. She clams me
A few nights later, Ciro Costa reaches out, stating he want to speak with me regarding my shipping dock. So, I invite him tomy nightclub where I handle all my business meetings. I don’t have people touching my things. My home is my home and not a place to conduct business, unlike my father, who handles everything in his home office.
I’m sitting up in the private area away from the crowd a few floors down. The music thumps through the speakers with the lights illuminating the club. I drape one of my arms on the back of the couch with my legs spread, sipping my whiskey neat. Angelo is sitting to my right and my other men are standing in front of the door and to the left of the room.
One of my guards whispers to Angelo and he nods. My guest has arrived. The ones at the entrance go to open the door to my private area and lets in Ciro and three of his goons.
I stand to greet my future father in-law. “Don Costa.” I put my hand out to shake his.
He grips my hand trying to give a firm handshake, but it feels like I am shaking a fucking fish.
“Don Ricci, thank you for meeting me with me this evening.” He unbuttons the front of his suit jacket before he sits, while his men stand a few inches behind him.
I nod to the waitress who stands at the corner bar that is tucked away from the table. She makes her way over to us and asks Ciro, “What would you like to drink?”
The smile that spreads across his face makes my blood boil. He trails his eyes up and down her curvy body as he licks his lips. My waitress’s work uniform is a short black leather skirt, black tights, a black sleeveless top and a pair of black tall boots.
“My boy, if I had one of these clubs like yours at your age, I would never have an empty bed. I would take full advantage of my assets.” His eyes are on my waitress when he spreads his legs wider, slides his hand up to his crotch. “Sweetheart, I will have a bourbon two fingers.” He winks at her and watches her walk away. “Maybe tonight, I will take a little detour before headinghome to my ball and chain. This old man still has a lot of energy for the young ones.”
I push down the anger that is rising inside of me. This sick fuck looks at women like they are his personal object. No wonder he signed his daughter over so quickly to anyone who would bring him more money.
“I don’t like to mix my business with pleasure. I keep the two separate. And your daughter will never have to worry about me straying.” I tell him keeping my voice flat.
He chuckles whenmy waitress comes back with both of our drinks. “You’re missing out, son.”
