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“What about you?” Stephen asks Sarah. “How old are you and when did you come to him?”
“I’m eighteen, sir. I’ve been with him for almost seven years.”
Acid churns in my stomach as I stare at the bastard. He’s glaring right back at me, keeping his head held high.
Suzette is weeping softly, her entire body shaking with her sobs. She won’t look at her husband. I guess finding out your husband’s a pedophile will make you want to throw up.
“Now that we have that out of the way,” Maverick snaps, “how about we get on to the questions at hand,” he says, crouching in front of the judge. “The auction, when is it happening?” he asks.
Silence. The judge says nothing, just stares at Maverick.
“That’s okay,” Mav says with a grin. “Let’s see how talkative you get when Monica here loses a finger.”
I don’t hesitate. This is my job. Right now, there are hundreds of women who are locked up, ready to become just like Monica and Sarah. I push my knife into her finger, breaking the bone and cartilage, tendons and nerves, until she’s screaming in pain.
“No,” the judge yells. “Leave her alone.”
“We will—once you tell us when the auction is taking place.”
“Monday,” he hisses, pulling against his bindings. He’s got tears streaming down his face. “Don’t hurt her, please.”
I pull my knife from her finger, and her blood flows onto the plastic like a fucking river. She’s lucky I didn’t sever it completely. She still has some hope of keeping it.
“Now, where are the women being held?” Stephen asks. “I want the location and I want it now.”
The judge shakes his head. “I can’t,” he breathes, the tears still streaming down his face.
Stephen’s smirk is beyond sadistic as he runs his knife along Sarah’s throat, slicing through the flesh. Blood pours from the wound, but he’s not gone deep enough to kill her. Yet.
“No,” the judge cries. “Leave my girls alone. They’re mine. You do not touch them.”
I shake my head in disgust. Fucking sick bastard.
“Tell us where the women and girls are being held,” Maverick snaps.
“No,” he snarls. “Step away from my girls, then I’ll tell you.”
Stephen shakes his head. “That’s not how this works, cunt.” He doesn’t hold back. This time when he slices along Sarah’s throat, he does it deep enough to kill her. It takes less than a minute until she’s dead, her body lifeless in the chair, her throat slit open from ear to ear.
“No!” the judge roars in horror. “You can’t do that,” he cries. “She’s mine. She’s mine.”
Stephen chuckles. “Not anymore. She’s free of your shit.”
“Now, answer the question, because it’s Suzette’s turn next,” Maverick says, and I’m pretty sure there’s laughter in his voice. “Where are the women being held?”
He gives us a location, and it’s about an hour's drive from here. Lucky for us, we have men all over this city and enough men to be at the location within minutes. Elio makes the call, getting the men ready to find the women, while Kelvin does the same. No doubt they’ll have a team of about thirty men arriving within the next ten minutes.
“While we wait,” Maverick says as he rises to his feet. “We’ll try another question. And have no doubt, Dell, that if that location comes back and there’s no one there, your wife will die.”
“They’ll be there. I was only there this morning. The auction is in four days. They have no time to move them. He’s frantically trying to get his partner on his cell, but there’s no answer.”
I grin. That’s because Sergei is dead. Which means Marco is going to lose his ever-loving shit as soon as he realizes his friend is gone too.
“Who else is involved in this?” Maverick questions. “I want as many as you can name.”
The judge doesn’t hesitate. He names off high profile celebrities, politicians, police officers, and clergymen. Fucking animals. Beppe and Santo make note of all the people the judge has named, and we’ll be ensuring they’re dealt with later.
“Now,” Stephen says as he moves toward the judge. “Where the fuck is Marco Scaffidi?”
