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“A bullet to the forehead is either personal or a signature mark. More specifically, your signature mark. My wife hasn’t done anything to anyone for it to get that personal so I’m at your fucking doorstep.”
“It wasn’t us!” Manfredi cries out.
“Then tell me who the fuck it was,” I growl.
“I don’t know. I swear I don’t know, Marco. If I did, I’d be the first in line to tell you,” Manfredi says.
“Then you need to figure it out because I’m not leaving without fucking answers!”
“I...I don’t know. I’m not lying to you, Marco,” Manfredi says again.
“I don’t want to hear what you don’t fucking know! I want to know what you do know!” I shout, grabbing him by his collar and slamming his head into the wall until his face screws up and he starts whimpering.
“Come on, man. We really don’t know,” Giorgio whines behind me.
“Shut the fuck up!” Gino grunts.
“Tell me!” I shout again with another hit to his gut.
“I swear! I don’t know...I wish I did,” Manfredi groans.
I sniffle and wipe the back of my nose before taking a step back.
“I don’t fucking trust you!” I grunt, pulling out my gun again.
“Trust me or not, Marco, but it sounds like an inside job. What the fuck kinda security you got that would let someone get that close to your wife to do some shit like that? Maybe you should be kicking their asses instead of mine,” Manfredi snarls. “Looks like they pulled the fucking wool over your eyes and set our asses up.”
I’ve been operating purely off emotion the last few days, and what he’s saying to me now registers something in the back of my mind. Alessandro did discover that the security cameras were off. Rocco had mentioned a technical issue a few days before but swore he was on it.
When I asked about it this time, he said the system was hacked, and they were all over it trying to figure out who was behind it. Shit’s not adding up, and it’s looking like Rocco isn’t being honest with me. Something that I haven’t allowed myself to consider because what the fuck?
Loyalty is everything to a man like me, and those who aren’t fucking loyal pay with their lives. Like my wife.
I turn back to the little shit in front of me and kick his ass a bit more before walking to the office's other side.
“Move,” I snarl at Ermes and Gino.
They step back, and I backhand Giorgio and punch him in the gut before I take a step away. Looking between both men, I say, “I’ll fucking find out what’s going on. And when I do, I'll be back if I smell your stink on this shit.
