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I look to Angelo. “Nothing to lose. If it’s a dead end, we come back and slice his dick off.”
The man squirms, like that’s going to save him.
“For fuck’s sake, pull his fucking pants back up,” Marco spits in disgust.
I do as he asks. The man looks relieved, until I cup his face again. “Don’t mistake this for kindness, fuckface. Any opportunity I get to come back here and fuck with you, I’m gonna take it.”
“He knows shit. I’m sure of it.”
“Well, he better know something,” I reply. “Or we’re gonna be serving meatballs on the menu when we get back.”
Angelo scoffs. “Where do we find him?”
The man stammers. “From what I heard, he has an office downtown, at the new complex near the Plaza.”
“That's all you know?”
He nods.
Angelo holds the gun to his head as I step back. “Good.” He pulls the trigger at his temple, his brains splattering all over the cocksucker next to him.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Angelo,” Enzo mutters. “What if he knew more?”
“He didn’t.”
“That’s a shame,” I agree. “I was looking forward to making carbonara.”
“That’s disgusting,” Marco says, his nose wrinkling. “Rocco, get two of the soldiers to clean this shit up before we get back.”
“On it,” he says.
I step back. “I’d say that was a fairly successful interrogation.”
“Unless he’s lying and it’s a trap,” Dante says.
Enzo is already on the phone to Sloane, who is our expert hacker, and also Rocco’s new love. He will then call Vaughan, our IT expert.
If he can be found, they will find him. And if Rodriguez is a lawyer, then he won’t be hard to find.
“What do you want us to do with the rest?” Rocco nods to the other men, still squirming around, hanging from the ceiling.
Angelo doesn’t even spare them a glance. “Play with them until I get back.”
Rocco smiles a rare smile. “Excellent.”
He looks over to me. “You’ll come with me and Marco. Dante, I want you to stay here and make sure Rocco keeps them all breathing.” He shifts his gaze to Enzo. “Go to Sloane and find every goddamn thing you can find about this Rodriguez, and I need any footage of him coming and going from the bar.”
“Got it,” Enzo says.
“Darko, stay here until the soldiers arrive to take the bodies, and if any of these fuckers look at you the wrong way, kill them.”
I don’t need to look at the remaining men hanging to know they’re probably shitting their pants.
Darko nods.
“Let’s go,” he says, and starts to unbutton his shirt, changing into a new one as we pass by the office.
“You okay?” I ask my brother as Marco’s eyes flick to mine. I see the concern in his eyes.
