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I lean away, nodding in understanding. I push my sleeves up my arms and stroll to where the door is. Chuckling, I press a button next to the light switch and the wall begins to move, lifting to show my weapons of choice.
Knives, guns, chemicals, and so many other fun things that I haven’t used in a while. I run my fingertip over a sharp blade, the lingering pain of the small stab wound Rosie left pulses, which makes me smile.
Ah, my Tesoro is a natural with a knife. I’ll have to make her one, custom to fit her hand so it’s the right size and weight.
“Which one do you like?” I ask him, spreading my arm to showcase the weapons as if they are trophies.
There.
I see it.
The shift in his eyes as he swallows.
He’s afraid.
“What the fuck is this?” the words break mid-question.
I grab a pair of pliers, my favorite weapon. My tried and true. They aren’t expensive or anything special, but they know how to get the job done.
“Matias? Take off his boots please.”
My brother nods.
“What the fuck?” our captive kicks and slams Matias right in the chest.
My twin barely grunts, snagging his leg to hold him still.
“Is this some sick twin fantasy shit? I’m not into that,” he goads which only has Matias rolling his eyes.
“Yes, that’s it. We have you tied to a chair for sexual purposes. How did you know?” Matias smirks, tossing the man’s boots across the room along with his socks. Matias violently grips the man’s chin until his cheeks pinch and my brother spits in his face. “I can help but wonder how many disappointed women you’ve left in your pathetic wake. I should call them and show them how a real man fucks.”
I chuckle, loving the rage behind our victim’s eyes. Men like him are too easy to upset. It’s always the same thing with them. Threaten their manhood and they always have to try to prove themselves.
“I’ll go through your phone later for their numbers.” Matias grabs the phone from the counter that Gianni must have taken from our new friend and my brother waves it in his face. “This will be fun.” He tucks the phone in his pocket, then leans against the wall, crossing his arms.
“What’s your name?”
“Fuck you,” he sneers at me, tugging against the restraints. The more he tries, the more the spikes on the inside of the cuffs dig into his wrists.
Drops of blood begin to drip onto the floor and Bianchi’s man winces.
See, the Milazzo men are given lessons to withstand torture. It’s another way we are better than Bianchi.
“We can play that game.” I bend down and open the pliers, pinching his toenail in the teeth of the tool.
“Wh-What are you doing?”
“I’m showing you what happens when you don’t answer my question.” I rip his toenail off and he bites back a scream.
His entire body shakes. “Is that all you got?”
“Do you want to find out? Or do you want to tell me why Bianchi needs that gem before Zander finds him?”
“I’m not telling you shit.”
“Hmm,” I nod, then force open his mouth and grip a tooth with the pliers. “Are you sure you don’t want to answer?”
He doesn’t change his mind and this time he screams for the heavens to hear. His tooth clinks onto the floor, dinging against the stainless-steel floor.
