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18
Angelo
Saint was right about one thing: Lucia’s tip was a good one, and the hunt for Alfonso Ricci has picked up more in the past few days than in the previous seven years combined. I go through our contacts and haunt some of the shadier places in town, until I finally corner one of Bellini’s underlings.
When I say “corner,” I mean I beat him up and drag him back to the house for questioning. I really need to send a complaint to Bellini for hiring only the ugliest mofos, because it would be exciting to bring a handsome man to tears.
Probably not as thrilling as Lucia’s tears, though.
Shit, I need to forget about her. Victor’s probably going to toss her back to her father in a few days, and I’ll never see her again. The thought pisses me off a bit, making my hand on my captive’s neck tighten. The guy starts struggling again, and I loosen my grip with some regret.
“We’re almost there, Luke.”
Not that he knows wherethereis. I’ve got him cuffed, blindfolded, and gagged, so he has to rely on my guidance to not walk into anything. I’ve also stripped him down to his underwear. They aren’t even nice ones. Bellini’s men are cheap. He’s lucky I’m in a mostly good mood.
I knock on the door to Victor’s office, and hear his stern, “Enter” in response. My gagged captive makes a distressed noise, but his distress isn’t really my concern. I push the door open and kick him in. He cries out and stumbles to the floor. I lock the door behind us.
“I brought Luke Bonito,” I announce. When I look up, I see that Victor isn’t alone.
He’s sitting on the couch with Lucia between his legs, her head resting on his thigh while he pets her. She doesn’t look particularly happy to be there, although for once she’s dressed. Not in much, mind you—a tank top that stops halfway down her breasts and a mini-skirt that’s very,verymini. I have to hand it to Victor; he knows how to dress her up.
“Bind his legs, then you can remove his blindfold and gag,” Victor says. “It’s been so long since we’ve spoken, Bonito.”
Luke Bonito struggles onto his knees, which suits me just fine. I grab his arms and bend them backward to meet his ankles, then hook shackles around those. The end result is the chain from the ankle shackles crossing over the short chain of his wrist cuffs. There’s very little give, and he’s forced to keep his back arching backward. Getting up will be impossible.
Not that I expect him to get back up at all, cuffed or not.
I catch Lucia looking at us, and I wink at her. “Hey, Princess. Didn’t expect to see you here. You’re going to get quite the show.”
I follow her gaze and realize she’s locked eyes with Bonito. She looks upset, which isn’t terribly surprising, considering the situation, but if this is one of her father’s men… I take a closer look at Bonito. He’s not even that attractive. But had she been fucking him too?
Nah.
The little bubble of jealousy pops almost as soon as it appears. She has better taste thanthat. But she’s still staring at him like she’s spooked.
“I can hardly wait,” she says, but her voice is flat rather than sarcastic and sassy.
Victor strokes her hair again and motions to me. “Ungag him. We can hardly ask him questions like this.”
I grab Bonito by the hair to keep him still and pull the gag and blindfold off him. He takes a long, gasping breath, then tries to shake my hand off him. I roll my eyes and grip his hair tighter, and I see him wince in pain.
“Lucia!” Bonito shouts. “Are you okay? These fuckers haven’t hurt you, have they?”
“I’m fine,” she says, even though it’s hard for her to put much of a show on dressed the way she is—kneeling the way she is, so obviously on display.
“You two know each other?” I casually put a foot on Bonito’s ankle and push down a little. “Not biblically, I hope? She’s your daughter’s age!” I only say it to rile him up, and it works, judging from the disgusted look he gives me. Guess I’ve picked up a few tricks from Victor after all.
“Jesus fuck! She’s Bellini’s daughter! I watched her grow up!” Bonito looks at Victor. “Hey, Corvi, call your attack dog off. The boss is already beyond pissed thanks to the vids you sent him. You let us both go now, maybe you’ll have enough time to escape before he destroys you.”
“Vids?” Lucia lifts her head sharply, looking to me. “What videos did you send to my father?”
Victor pushes her head back down, but I can see she’s struggling against him. “Nothing for you to be concerned about.”
She twists her neck so she can look up at Victor, her eyes finally getting some life back into them. “What. Fucking. Vids.”
Knowing Victor, he won’t tell her, but I feel a little bad for her. “Nothing too bad,” I reassure her. “We wouldn’t send vids of your cunt to your father. I think Saint cut it together so you never really see anything.”
Lucia looks at me in horror, struggling harder against Victor. “You didwhat?”
