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“Not good enough,” I spat back, this time tipping the bottle over so it was like a flood taking Sal under.
When I was younger, I’d seen this done on TV dozens of times in crime movies. Pete even showed me proper waterboarding techniques not long after I’d learned of the kill room. I knew this place so well I knew the scent of blood, bleach, and death anywhere. It was a familiar smell that no one should have known by heart. But the abandoned warehouse where we tortured our victims was becoming like my second home. The more time I spent around Pete and Marco, the more I learned every method of torture possible.
Pete loved the thrill of the kill, the high better than sex for him. Like me, Marco saw torture as a means to an end, though I would have been lying to myself if I didn’t admit I enjoyed a just kill like this one. Our guys set us up the night I went to Vitale’s. Not long after that night, Gia had disappeared along with Sonny. There were too many coincidences and not enough explanations to make sense of them.
Pete cupped his hand on my shoulder. “That’s enough for now.”
When Pete issued an order, I had to follow it. He wasn’t only my older brother, he was a caporegime, the captain who led our crew and reported back to my father. His orders were mine to follow. Pete was allowing me to hunt down every last person responsible for Gia’s kidnapping. But I had to know my place, respect the hierarchy of our organization.
I wanted to argue. Pete had made me a promise. Instead of fighting with him, I nodded and handed over the bottle. Sal choked on the water in his mouth and nose, struggling for air. He was a rat who deserved what was coming to him. Without Gia, I was becoming more like Pete every day. My heart had grown so cold I wasn’t sure I could feel anything other than hate and anger.
Pete moved his hand from my shoulder and stepped forward, hovering over Sal. “First, let’s start with where the fuck is Dom before I shove this bottle down your throat.”
“He’s working with Enzo,” Sal choked out.
Pete drizzled some of the water on Sal’s forehead and smiled as it ran down his nose and into his eyes. “Where the fuck is Enzo?”
Sal shut his eyes and sobbed. “At a safe house in North Jersey.”
“Where?” Pete growled.
“I can take you there,” he sho
t back.
“No, tell me where. You don’t leave this table until then. Dead or alive, I don’t care.”
Pete was bluffing. There was no way he would kill Sal without tracking down a lead to Enzo. The man was responsible for turning several members of our crew, as well as others in the organization. And for all we knew, he took Gia, or at the very least had a hand in her disappearance.
Chapter Eleven
Gia
Not until Anthony peeled back the curtain and pushed me onto the stage did the gravity of the situation hit me. I was being fed to the lions. A raging crowd of men, as far as I could see, gathered around the stage and tables of the club. Angelo’s family owned a strip club. There was no mistaking the neon lights, poles bolted into the ceiling, and mirrored walls that reflected everything in the large, open room.
No other girls were in sight, the men here to see me. I was the main attraction. The lights were too bright, forcing me to hold my arm up to my face so I could see. My mouth widened in shock when my eyes landed on the man seated at center stage, right in front of me.
“Let the bidding begin,” a man said from the back of the room.
A man who I’d assumed was Dante moved through the throng, the men around him parting for him like the Red Sea. He was handsome, almost too good looking to be real, in a tailored suit that fit his muscular frame perfectly.
He stopped at the edge of the stage, and Anthony pushed me forward, almost forcing me over the edge. “Do you know who I am?”
“Dante DiSalvo,” I muttered.
He held out his hand for me to take, and I did as he instructed. “Smart girl.” His fingers brushed my skin, leaving an uncomfortable sting in their wake. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”
He knew who I was. Why else was I here? What a stupid question. But I decided to play along.
“Raven,” I said without hesitation.
As long as I had to endure the DiSalvo family, I would never use my real name. Knowing I didn’t have to use it made me less disgusted about some of the things I was about to do.
“Are you ready to dance for us?”
I took a second to think over his question. “Do you want the truth?”
He looked amused, the corner of his mouth turning up into a smirk. “Sure.”
