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I grasp his collar and drag him to his feet, dumping him at the bottom of the stairs. "My brother Sasha didn't convince you to stay away? Wait until I tell him. He thought he'd been too soft on you last time. How long did you wear that neck brace?"
"Three months," Serra squawks, trying to stand. "I learned my lesson. I'm not up to anythin'. Just hangin' out with new friends."
"Like Hektor?"
Serra frowns. "Yeah. He's one of yours, right? He was meant to send me a girl yesterday, but he didn't even answer his phone."
The urge to pound his face until it looks like ground beef is hard to resist. Instead, I kick him hard in the ribs, winding him, and he collapses again.
"Hektor was not one of ours."
"Look, I don't know what he's playin' at, but it ain't nothin' to do with me." Serra draws a deep, wheezing breath. "I don't know him personally. I like pretty whores. That's it."
"Do you have a favorite?"
Serra blinks stupidly at me. He leans against the balustrade and regards me warily. "Uh, yeah, I do. Redhead girl."
"I like a redhead. Is she a good fuck?"
"I didn't get to find out," Serra says. He returns my grin, thinking he's on safe ground. "She wouldn't let me fuck her, so I tried to teach her a lesson, but the hotel people stopped me. I shoulda got another go on her, but she never showed." His face suddenly collapses as though he's thought of a possibility. "I don't know wheresheis, either. Like I said, nothin' to do with me."
“Vito, Hektor is dead. I killed him. If you have any sense in your fat head, you'll tell me who he worked for, so I can take it up with his boss."
"I don't know!" Serra whines. "I'd tell you. You know I'm a coward."
This is a fair point. Killing Hektor might be intimidation enough for whoever was holding his leash. But regardless of what Serra knows, he's a loose end.
"Aren't you gonna invite me in, Vito? Let's have some coffee."
Serra scurries ahead of me. "Kitchen's this way. We can talk it over. I could help somehow."
I loosen my tie and pull it over my head.
"Whatever you say."
I grab a fistful of Serra's hair and throw the loop around his neck. My knee comes up between his legs, and he folds to the ground, landing face-down. I sit on him and wedge my heels under his shoulder blades, pulling the loose end of my tie.
The leverage makes throttling him easier. Serra splutters and gasps as the ligature squeezes his windpipe.
"That girl you tried to beat and fuck," I snarl, "ismyfiancée. You deserve to die a thousand times over for even looking at what's mine, but," I yank hard, and Serra's neck makes a cracking sound, "I have things to do today."
Serra's squirming gives way to a feeble shudder, and a large patch of piss spreads on the floor. I grimace and climb off him, leaving my tie in place around his neck. His eyes are bloodshot and bulging.
So that's that for now. Arman is keeping his ear close to the ground. If I get any more information, I'll act on it.
Now to trickier business. After all, I'm getting married tomorrow, and although I left the boutique owner with explicit instructions, I'm sure Morgana is making trouble by now.
I lock the door and post the keys through the mail slot.
16
Cassius
Whoever cleaned did an excellent job. Bare floorboards, the empty frame of the coffee table where the glass was smashed. The couch is stained and punched with a bullet hole, but that’s it.
There’s a CCTV camera above the door, but on closer inspection, it’s a decoy.
Hektor, Hektor. You cheap bastard. It’s no wonder someone sauntered in and murdered him.
