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No, Eddie is fucked, and he knows it and as his life hangs in the balance, he knows there is only one way out—death. But not before he guarantees the lives of his family, of which he has two sisters, currently attending college, who are unaware their lives are now in his hands.
“Please boss, spare my family.”
His pathetic cry washes over me like a passing breeze.
“Then tell me who is responsible. Who is trying to set me up and who murdered the filthy senator?”
To his credit, Eddie has held out longer than most and at first denied all knowledge and implied his phone was stolen and the evidence planted. Once I broke both his legs and severed his hand, he started to think differently and told me a fabricated story involving a man from his card game that he owed money to. If he wiped out his debt, in return, he wanted Eddie to arrange for the senator to be escorted by Flora Corlietti and he even set up Eddie with Desdemona as a cover story. The trouble is, my instinct is telling me it’s all lies, so as I reach for his other wrist, he yells, “Please, no more.”
He is barely conscious, and I nod to Pasquale who chucks a bucket of icy water over him and as his breath labors and he is resigned to the fact that only his soul will ever leave this room, he finally tells me what I need to know.
“Mario Bachini.”
“What about him?”
My anger increases as he speaks the name of Diana’s stepbrother.
“He offered me money and a position higher than I would ever get with the Ortegas. I only had to make sure Flora Corlietti made it inside this building. I’m sorry, boss. I should have come clean.”
My anger simmers like a bubbling volcano and even Pasquale appears nervous as that name bounces around my mind like machine gun fire. Mario fucking Bachini. How I hate the very mention of him. Diana’s stepbrother and my father’s consigliere. A man my father chose over his own sons to help run the Ortega Mafia and the fact he sent Flora here tells me he’s intent on taking over as the new Ortega don.
With a roar, I drive my fist through Eddie’s skull, effectively silencing him forever, and as I brace myself against the bloodied damp walls of hell, I feel retribution surge through my entire soul. Flora Corlietti must have been sent here to bring me down and whether she is part of it or not, I have played right into their fucking hands by declaring to the entire police force that she is my girlfriend. The senator’s death was to frame me for murder, and knowing how those tainted minds operate, I’m certain of only one thing. This war has only just begun.
CHAPTER11
FLORA
If I could sleep, I would. In fact, it’s unusual for me to sleep for more than a couple of hours before the nightmares wake me. There has only ever been one monster who dominated them until now.
Domenico Ortega has invaded my subconscious even while I sleep, and I jerk awake after a vivid image of him advancing on me as I am chained to his dungeon wall. He scares me. There is something positively evil about that man and I’m not surprised he was drawn to my sister. Two halves of the same mold, perhaps. Possibly, although I always afforded Mario that honor before.
I shiver when I think of the despicable creature who came into our lives not long after ours was destroyed, along with my parents.
Two orphans with nowhere to go after our grandmother suffered a heart attack a year after we arrived on her doorstep on that fateful night.
The tears slide down my face as I remember the one woman who showed me more kindness than anyone else. She was the person I ran to for comfort and the only friend I ever had.
Grace Corlietti was a formidable woman who led a hard life herself. She tried to prepare me for the future, but nothing could do a good enough job of that because what happened next is the stuff of twisted nightmares and it’s doubtful I will ever recover.
Once again, I cast my mind back to my meeting with the mother superior of the convent of the Blessed Virgin Mary. I landed on their door one night, thumping my fist against the ancient wood and crying for shelter from the evil I lived with. It was the only place I could think of to go and as they ushered me inside with kind smiles and gentle touches, I immediately knew I had found a place I wanted to call home.
The tears slide down my cheeks as I remember how loving they were. Sister Agatha, who became a surrogate mother to me, was the kindest person I have ever met. I was broken, and they repaired the damage. At least I thought they had, but I am so close to revisiting that nightmare and this time I may not survive.
The usual darkness circles and consumes me. I live in darkness. I always have and yet nothing compares to the darkness that exists in the Ortega mansion. It surrounds me. The demons that lurk in the shadows whisper that my life is here now. Is this my final resting place before the comparative bliss of the afterlife? Part of me hopes it is and then there’s that will to live inside me that has always burned so brightly.
I’m not even sure of the time when he returns. The door crashes open, causing me to gaze up in startled surprise. I choke back the sob it causes when I peer at a warrior streaked in blood standing by the side of the bed, gazing down on me with fury flashing in his eyes.
“Mario Bachini.”
He says the two words I detest most in the world and I swallow the bile that the name always brings.
“What about him?”
My voice shakes as I answer him and he growls, “I need to know everything you’ve got on him.”
“Now?” I shift into a sitting position, hating the fact I’m chained to his bed, naked and shivering with fright.
His eyes flash and the scowl on his face, cause my fear to deepen and my eyes fixate on the blood that decorates his insanely ripped body like the deadliest war paint.
