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“Hey, Cosetta,” I said, lying down on the bed. “Why not suck me off for a while, eh?”
The girl pouted. She had long dark hair and big eyes, but there was something soulless in the way she smiled.
“My name is Nicole,” she said stiffly. “You make a habit of talking to women like that?”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t care if your name is Thomas,” I snapped. “Get down there!”
Nicole crawled on the bed. She unfastened her purple silk bra and let her large breas
ts swing in the air. Her brown nipples were stiff and dark, and I longed to take them into my mouth and suck until she was screaming with pleasure. Nicole locked eyes with me and slid a hand down her body, toying with herself and moaning a little as her fingers slid inside of her panties. My cock stiffened inside of my trousers as Nicole tugged her panties down, revealing a shaving pussy dripping with wetness.
“Come here,” I growled. Nicole tumbled into my arms and I closed my eyes as her warm mouth began kissing a slow trail down my body. Just as things were getting really good, the door burst open. Nicole screamed and leapt away from my body, pulling the sheet around her tits like she was a real good girl, not some hooker that Silvio hired to make me feel better.
Silvio was standing there, breathing hard.
“Sil, what the fuck?” I exclaimed, sitting up in bed and glaring. “I was just starting to relax, too! God fucking damnit!”
Silvio reached for Nicole and grabbed her by the arm, tossing her out of the room. She cried out in pain as Silvio kicked her over the threshold, then slammed the door.
“What the fuck?” I demanded loudly. “What the fuck is going on here?”
Silvio shook his head. “Things are bad, boss,” he said. “There’s this nosy little bitch trying to ruin us all. I had my men chase her down twice, but she ain’t showing no sign of slowing down.”
I glared at him. “And what the fuck do you want me to do about that?”
“Fucking show her that we mean goddamned business,” Silvio said.
“Who is she?” I narrowed my eyes. “You know there ain’t no woman strong enough to stand up to me and the family.”
“Beth Wilson,” Silvio said. “Michael Bennett’s fiancée.”
Chapter Ten
Beth
When I came to, I was shaking and cold. My eyes were so swollen that I could barely open them, but despite the brutal beating I’d endured, I was feeling better than I could have expected. I climbed up on unsteady feet and walked out of the alley, brushing myself off.
There was no one following me, but somehow I knew that it would be a bad idea for me to go into the police station looked as abused as I did. I knew that more likely than not, I would get peppered and assaulted with questions about who had hurt me – and if anything, that might make the cops and detectives even less likely to help me find Michael’s killer.
I’d had a gut feeling when I’d talked to Douglas, and now that thugs were following me and trying to threaten me into silence, I felt even worse. I knew that the Amoruso crime family had something to do with Michael’s death – more than just something – but I had no idea how I was supposed to catch them in the act.
I wound up going to a diner and buying a paper. I ignored the headlines – Michael’s death hadn’t yet made the papers, and I had a feeling that Douglas was purposefully orchestrating the coverage about his son. With Douglas’s influence and money, it would be weeks before the public found out what happened. But I had a feeling that skimming the paper would help at least point me in the right direction. And after all, that’s all I was trying to do. I wanted to learn as much as I could about the Amorusos, and the diner was a perfectly public place to do so.
An older waitress stopped by, grey-haired and puffy in the face. She didn’t even look at my wounds as she took my order, and I thanked god for the ability to blend in so well in public. Finally, when I was alone, I opened the paper to the crime briefs of the day.
One stood out to me. The tiny headline was printed in font no bigger than my pinky fingernail, but the name printed made my blood freeze in my veins. My heart stopped as I read the name over and over again.
“Alessio Amoruso Arrested on Criminal Charges”
The tiny blurb of an article went on to say that Alessio, supposedly the head of the family, had been arrested at the docks for possession of cocaine and carrying a concealed weapon without a permit. My stomach knotted and twisted with anxiety as I thought about whether or not his gun was the gun that had been used to kill Michael.
My fiancé is dead, and it’s all your fault, I thought as I stared at Alessio’s sallow mugshot. He had olive skin that looked deep tan in the black and white newsprint, and two rows of bright white teeth that reminded me of a shark. He was almost forty, but he looked ten years younger. The small article went on to say that Alessio had been released on bail, and that he was confined to house arrest while waiting for his trial. It was months away. I can’t wait that long, I thought as I stared at his mugshot with hatred in my heart. I need to get you – as soon as possible.
I guess living a life of crime keeps you young, I thought bleakly as I folded the newspaper closed and tucked it inside my purse. Scrounging at the bottom of my bag, I found some loose change and tipped it onto the table. I was going broke and I wasn’t even hungry enough to eat what I’d ordered, but I couldn’t waste any more time.
I had to go down to the docks and see for myself what had happened.
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