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“Aaaah! Preparati a morire, testa di cazzo!” Gino mutters, stepping back.
Paolo sits on the floor in the corner of the room, fiddling with his phone as Gino steps outside.
I take a seat on a chair across from Rocco.
“Gino has nothing to worry about, Rocco. You don’t need to get ready to die. You’re already a dead man. The moment that you can’t hold those fifty-pound weights up anymore, you know what will happen, don’t you? Your arms will strain from the weight and stress of holding those up, and eventually, they will begin to weigh you down. Your arms will begin to sink causing those boards under your arms to lower.”
I cross one leg over the other and lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest.
“As the boards lower, that pulley system is designed to lift that dagger you’re staring down at straight up and into your right eye. I will sit here as you try to scream and beg for your life, but you won’t be able to because your tongue has been cut out. I’ll watch you die, and then I will have satisfaction. Then I will go after the Colombos. I promise I won’t be satisfied until every last fucker has been killed and Graziella’s death has been avenged.”
Rocco is lying on the contraption with trembling arms, tears falling down his face and snot dripping from his nose.
Alessandro’s plans to take out the top Colombo men have been implemented. There’s one final one to take out, and it will be my pleasure to do so.
I glance at my watch and stare back at Rocco.
“You hungry, Paolo?”
“Yeah, Boss. Hopefully, the food will be here soon,” he says just as I hear a car door closing.
“Looks like your wish has been granted,” I say as Paolo hops up from the floor and heads out of the room.
I stand and walk to Rocco, kneeling in front of him. A grin crosses my face as I pat his head.
“The funny thing is that you thought you could fucking outwit me. Don’t you know that you instantly crossed my mind when I heard that my security cameras had stopped working? You were on my mind when I learned there’d been a flower delivery that day but not the van that comes every day. The delivery driver wasn’t the same. It was your cousin.
“You used that van to sneak on the grounds that day because you were supposed to be on vacation. The cameras weren’t working, but the housekeeper was. While Anna was busy with our two other staff accepting the large floral order as they always do, you snuck into the house and hid until the perfect time to get to Grazie. There were too many anomalies for me to not think it was you.”
He snivels some more.
“Dumb fuck. I wanted to believe that you wouldn’t be that stupid. That you, like Luca, wouldn’t be committing suicide. But look at you, my boy. Guess that’s exactly what you’re doing,” I say as I tap his left arm, and it begins to lower.
Panic fills his eyes, and frantically, he raises his arms again.
“Brought you a change of clothes,” I hear Massimo say from behind me.
“Good,” I say, looking down at the blood spatters on my jeans and my collared shirt.
I take the bag of food that Massimo hands me and take my place again on the chair.
“How much longer?” Massimo asks.
“The bastard’s only been there for fifteen minutes. Can’t have much longer now,” I grunt as I open my food and grab the plastic fork.
I take my first bite of tortellini from Casa della Gioi, an Italian restaurant in Atlanta opened by my cousin, Tommy, and his wife, Luna.
“It’s good!” I gush around the food in my mouth as more snot pours from Rocco’s nose. “Hey,” I say, walking to Rocco. “Every man deserves his last meal. I remember you love tortellini. You want a bite?”
He makes a noise, and I stare at him, drawing closer. “Shit. I forgot you probably couldn’t taste it, huh?”
I return to my chair, and Massimo shakes his head. “If you weren’t my brother, I’d swear you were a few screws loose.”
I shrug.
“On second thought, I take that back. Because you’re my brother, I know you’re a few screws loose.”
“I’on give a shit.”
