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It feels absolutely terrible lying to my mom and hanging up on her like that. She would kick my ass if she ever found out, and I need to make sure that she never does, especially not from a news source detailing my graphic murder.
The silence in the room is deafening until I can hear the sound of Marcello approaching from down the hallway.
Slipping out the window is much easier than climbing in, but I fall out onto the grass, hitting my arm on the ground and struggling not to yelp out in pain.
Getting back on top of the shed is a bigger task than I expected it to be, but I’m able to put my pain in the back of my mind and climb back up.
The walk across the ledge feels significantly easier now that I’ve accomplished what I set out to do. I might not have gotten in contact with the police, but at least now my mother won’t be worrying about me.
ChapterFifteen
MARCELLO
It’s never a bad day to plan a hit on someone, but it can be a bit of a pain in the ass. One of my more experienced associates, Charlie, reached out to me earlier stating that he’s received information regarding the whereabouts of Franco Di Angelo. I’d already had a full day packed with bullshit I needed to do after putting it off to handle the situation with June, but it’ll have to wait. Anything I can learn to pin him down and kill him takes precedence.
When Charlie approaches my house, he appears more nervous than usual, looking over his shoulder and scanning his surroundings as if he hasn’t been here hundreds of times. If he’s that worried about someone coming after him, he must know something important.
“Hey, you want a cigarette?” he asks as he walks up to me, lighting a cigarette of his own and offering the pack to me.
“Nah, I’m trying to quit. Cigarettes give you cancer,” I reply as I light a cigar.
He laughs a little. “Hey, save those for when you take out Di Angelo. You’ll want it.”
“Okay, so give me a rundown. Where is this Di Angelo clown, and what’s the likelihood that I can have him skinned alive before dinner?” I ask, puffing on my cigar.
“So, he’s actually not even in the country right now. He fled when he found out that his name had been leaked to you, so he’s trying to lie low for a while. But he’ll be coming back in a couple of weeks. I know that for a fact,” he replies, continuing to glance around the property with an unnerved expression.
“How do you know he’s coming back for sure?” I ask, intrigued.
“He’s attending a wedding. The daughter of one of his richest clients is getting married, and he’s already made arrangements to return for that weekend at least. I still need to find out where the wedding is, but that won’t be hard with how much bullshit people share online these days,” he says, clearly satisfied with himself for his findings.
I’m satisfied with them as well, and it puts me in the position to end Di Angelo’s life in front of all of his closest associates. There’s no greater power move than murdering your enemy in front of those that respect him.
“You might want to figure out who you’re sending for the hit, though. I don’t think I’d be able to do it myself,” he continues.
I’m almost unable to contain my laughter. “That’s a joke, right? You really think I would send someone else to kill Di Angelo? He’s my fucking bitch, Charlie. I wouldn’t let anyone else near him.”
Charlie glances at me questioningly. “Are you sure? You’re going to put a huge target on your back. I don’t know if the possibility of every mafia member at that wedding on your ass is the best idea.”
“I’m not worried about those fucks. If they’re as much of a bitch as Di Angelo, I’m certain that they’ll all be too scared to make a move on me. At the very most, they’d chase me around and try to intimidate me,” I reply.
“I understand. If you need backup, you know we’ll be there. It might blow up in your face, though. It was hard to get a lot of information on the client himself, so they might have a lot of influence in that circle,” he says, finishing his cigarette.
“Just send me what you’ve got so I can make a better plan. I know you don’t have everything right now, but keep me updated as it comes,” I say, putting out my cigar.
Charlie nods, turning around to head back to his car. That’s what I like about him – he’s straight to the point about everything he does. Never needs to linger or pretend he gives a shit about what I’m working on unless it involves him.
When I return to my office, I have a distinct feeling that something is off or out of place. At first, I can’t figure out what it is, but the feeling eats away at me until I decide to examine the space to find the source of it.
The window was open before. That was intentional. However, as soon as I look at my desk, I see that the phone has been placed back down incorrectly, which is something I would never do. I place everything on my desk at a specific angle to make sure that I can detect when someone has been here without my notice. The phone would always be an obvious target for suspicion.
But why?
I unlock the phone and open up the call history, noticing that an emergency number has been dialed. Directly below the call is another call to a foreign phone number, American by the looks of it.
It’s obviously June. But how did she get in here without me noticing?
Furious like I haven’t been in years, I storm out of the room, practically sprinting up the steps to kick down the door and confront June.
