Page 119

Nico calmly stared at Alex Sewell, not believing a word of this denial. They’d easily zip-tied the young man to a chair in the middle of the empty warehouse, even as Sewell struggled to get free. Hockey players might be strong, but Filippo and Antonio were stronger, and it wasn’t much of a contest.

Now Nico sat in a chair across from a sweating Sewell. “You don’t recognize this?” He held up a vial found at Sewell’s apartment.

Sewell shook his head. “No.”

“That’s strange, because we found it in the safe in your closet. Allora, it took my safecracker only ten minutes to break it open. 36-24-36 is not an original combination, it turns out.” He tipped his chin toward the coffee table, where Filippo was holding up some of the Polaroids, displaying them like cards. “We also found those photographs.”

“All of those were consensual,” Sewell said, but the words were forced, like his throat was too tight to speak.

“Va bene,” Nico said, nodding like this was expected. “I want you to keep denying it. Makes it more fun for us.” He looked over at his cousin and tilted his head. No words necessary, just a silent order to do what needed to be done.

Filippo took out a syringe and Nico passed over the vial. Then he smiled at Sewell. “Let’s see what this does to you. It will be consensual, no?”

“Wait, no!” Sewell began violently squirming in his chair as if trying to get loose. “What are you doing? Who are you?”

“You don’t know?”

“No, I don’t fucking know!” Sewell’s eyes darted between Filippo, who was readying a syringe, and Nico.

It was clear Sewell was lying. Nico would bet anything that one of the other Reign players had tipped him off. It would explain the cheap, brand-new safe in Sewell’s closet with all his goodies tucked inside.

Nico crossed his legs casually, like he and Sewell were having a chat. “Do you remember visiting The Loop a few weeks back? You drugged a very beautiful girl. But you gave her too much and she vomited outside the club on the sidewalk, so you dropped her like trash and left her there.”

Nico didn’t wait for Sewell to answer, continuing, “You remember, no? The night you borrowed your teammate’s car. It was smart of you to borrow a car and sleep elsewhere that night. We were checking cameras near the players’ homes, but we didn’t think about checking hotels. Thankfully, we found you on a camera downtown as you were valet parking outside the lobby. Wearing the same ball cap and jacket you had on at the club.”

Eyes wild, Sewell shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t drug anyone.”

“The girl? The one you abandoned? She is my cousin, almost like a daughter to me.”

Sewell swallowed, his throat working with the effort. “Look, it wasn’t me. Do you know who I am? Why would I drug girls to have sex with me when I can get laid anytime I want?”

Nico shook his head sadly. “We both know it is not about sex. It is about control. About power. Dehumanization. Because you have a tiny dick and this is the only way you can feel like a man.”

“That’s not true!”

Nico shrugged. “We will find out soon enough, as soon as this drug takes effect.”

Filippo walked over and jerked the hoodie covering Sewell’s arm out of the way. He positioned the tip of the needle directly above Sewell’s vein and looked at Nico, who said, “Last chance to confess and make this easier on yourself.”

“I didn’t do anything!”

At Nico’s nod, Filippo injected liquid into Sewell’s veins. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Sewell shouted the whole time, staring at his body absorbing the drug. “You’re all fucking crazy! I’m a fucking pro athlete! I’m famous! You can’t do this to me⁠—”

The tirade ended abruptly as the drug hit his system. Sewell’s mouth opened slightly and his head swiveled on his neck. “What’s happening?” The words came out slow and not entirely crisp.

“You should recognize the signs,” Nico informed him.

Within five minutes, Sewell’s head lolled back, eyes open but unseeing.

“What now?” Filippo asked, taking the switchblade off the table.

“I want to slit his throat,” Nico answered honestly.

“That seems too quick and easy for him,” Antonio interjected.

“Agreed.” Filippo used the knife to cut Sewell’s hoodie off, leaving him in a thin t-shirt. “Castration?”

Nico rubbed his jaw, thinking. He could hear Bennett’s voice in his head, begging to let Sofia have a say in what happened next. Truthfully, he didn’t think it would make any difference. Sofia had wanted the man to suffer, and Nico was more than happy to see that through. This pezzo di merda deserved nothing less.