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“No. Please, no,” he whimpered like a coward.
“Is that what the woman I found downstairs said? Did she beg you? Did she plead with you to spare her life?”
He shook his head frantically. “I had no choice. She was going to—”
“I don’t care,” I said, cutting him off.
“Please,” he kept whimpering like he had a hope in hell of swaying me.
I shook my head. “You’re not sorry; you’re only sorry you were caught. But I’m very glad you don’t regret it.” It made what I was about to do much easier.
I turned to Bruno and Carmine. “Help Vito secure him to the bed,per favore. Strip him first.”
They nodded and got to work, stripping him while Vito twisted his arms up behind his back.
They used his own shirt to tie up one wrist, then the belts they found in the closet to finish the job. Thin belts; clearly, these had belonged to the woman downstairs. It was fitting that they should be used now.
Bruno and Carmine worked perfunctorily. But Vito, his movements were sharp and brutal; he was pissed. Somehow, this was personal.
When Bianchi was secured, I turned to Leo and Greta. “I appreciate your help, but neither of you have to stay for this,” I told them.
“I’m pretty comfortable here,cugino,” Leo said with a grin. “Front row seats and all that shit, you know?”
Greta just cocked one neat eyebrow at me like her answer was obvious.
Well, I supposed it was time to get onto the main event, then.
“You took on desperate, incompetent men and sent them after myfamily,” I said to Bianchi, approaching the side of the bed where he was bound.
“Please, please, I’m sorry,” he sobbed. It was pathetic. In the end, they always sniveled and begged, but Bianchi had gotten there fast.
I shook my head. “Your time for pleading is over; it won’t do you any good.”
He wailed louder while he tugged on his restraints. He looked pathetic, his face streaked with tears, his puny muscles straining with all their might, his dick shriveled up with fear.
“Your men shot my sister,” I said, then nodded to Vito, instructing him to gift Bianchi with a similar wound.
Vito smiled and happily obliged me, firing from close range and putting a bullet right through Bianchi’s bicep.
He screamed and shook, his whole face turning red. This man was unaccustomed to pain. He probably hadn’t suffered a hardship in his life. Until now.
“The men you sent to my cabin shot one of my people,” I said when the screaming had returned to sniveling. “Two bullet wounds that could have killed him.”
“No! Please, don’t!” he screamed as I turned to Vito and nodded.
Vito took his time, surveying Bianchi’s body thoughtfully. I think he might have been looking for the areas that would do the least amount of damage to draw this out for as long as possible.
Finally, he nodded to himself and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet into Bianchi’s abdomen, right near his hip. And then he waited until Bianchi’s screams had died down once again before pulling the trigger a second time. This one hit thecodardohigh on the left side.
His body convulsed and his screams filled the room, spilling out of the cabin in every direction as blood welled up and trickled down his bare abdomen onto the bed.
When he’d quieted down, I leaned in close.
“I am curious about something. I wonder what you would have done to Heidi if you’d gotten your hands on her. Would you have strangled her like the woman downstairs?” I asked as an image of Heidi flashed through my mind, the stars in her eyes dulled and the pale skin of her neck marred with deep purple bruises.
My hands felt like an extension of the raw and visceral feeling inside me as they moved to Bianchi’s neck and squeezed, cutting off his air supply. A little more pressure, and I’d crush his windpipe, but I held back, watching as his eyes bulged and his lips slowly took on a bluish hue.
“This is what that woman felt,” I told him, letting up long enough for him to draw in a single breath.
