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He glares. “You’re a dead man, Moretti.”
“Ah. I wondered when you would bring that up.” I cross my arms. “Be a good little puppet and look at my friend over there.”
Brooks waves his hand, pointing to the phone where he’s recording this encounter. Smith is going down and I’m going to use his own pawns to do it. First Caruso. Now Bass. I’m sure even my piece of shit driver will have something incriminating to say. Men like Smith are cocky, and cocky people tend to be sloppy.
Bass glares. “Fuck. You.”
“My, how brave you are.” I move closer. “I read Isa’s medical records. Her mother’s, too. Want to know what I think?”
Bass spits at me. I don’t try to dodge it. No. I’m going to enjoy every fucking moment of this. And that wad of spit running down my cheek? It’s going to fuel my rage that much more.
“I think you’re a weak man who takes out his anger on those who can’t fight back. I think you’re about to find out what Isa and her mother went through at your hands.” I lean in. “Most importantly. I think you’re going to wish you’d never heard of my fucking name.”
I slam my head into his, relishing in the pain that shoots across my skull. Blood pours from his forehead when I pull back. Smiling, I press my finger into the cut until he grimaces.
“Sorry about that, Pops. That was for Isa, in case you’re wondering, and the concussion she had when she was six.”
“You bastard!”
“Now, now. Let’s not throw around names we know aren’t true. My father, even though he was a piece of shit, was married to my mother before I was born. The same can’t be said about you, can it? Because we both know you trapped Bella Angelo by getting her pregnant.” I pause, letting my words sink in. “She was young and thought she was in love. You promised her the world just to get your hands on the Angelo fortune, didn’t you?”
“So what?” he spits out. “Why shouldn’t that money have gone to me?”
“I bet Maria Angelo saw right through you, didn’t she?”
“She was a cunt, just like her daughter and just like my daughter.”
Reaching out, I grab his pinkie finger and bend it until it breaks. He screams, and I smile. I break three more fingers in succession. There’s not a damn thing he can do, either. Not with the way he’s bound to the chair.
“That is for Bella. You broke several of her fingers when she tried to leave you. Smashed her hand in the car door, right?” I continue, “So you married Bella to get the Angelo fortune? But Maria saw who you really were and made sure you couldn’t get your hands on the money by leaving it to Isa. Not only that, but she put in stipulations where even if something happened to Isa, you still wouldn’t get the money.”
Maria Angelo was a smart woman who looked after those she loved. She made sure Isa was protected, because Dale Bass would have killed his daughter if he thought he could get the money. Maria’s instructions were explicit. The Angelo fortune stayed in a trust where no one could touch it until Isa turned twenty-eight. If something happened to her before that time, the money would be donated to some of Maria's and Tommaso’s favorite charities around the world. Not a cent would go to Dale Bass.
I say, “Did you really think that this little plan of yours was going to work? That you would marry off Isa to Caruso, get a chunk of her money, and get invited to the Brotherhood?”
He glares, and I know I’ve struck a nerve.
“Ah. So you’re stupid as well. Noted.”
“You think you’re so smart, Moretti? Well, the joke is on you because we’ve been two steps ahead of you the entire time! Did you know that it was my idea to send everyone a letter?” His chest puffs out as if he’s proud. “Smith didn’t think anyone would believe it, but you did. And you’ve all been running around like fools while we made our move.”
I meet Brooks’ gaze. He doesn’t even try to hide the grin on his face. Bass just said Smith’s name without being prompted, which means our evidence is piling up on him.
Bass isn’t done and says, “You and the rest of the Brotherhood think you’re better than everyone. Well, we’re going to show you what it’s like to be on the bottom.”
“Bottom?” I snort. “Bass, you’re delusional if you think Gerald Smith is at the bottom of anything. You clearly know nothing about the man, or you would see that he’s using you to do his dirty work. When push comes to shove, he’ll toss you away. But you’ll be dead before he gets the chance.” I lean in. “I’m going to kill you, you fucker. It’s going to hurt. A lot. And it’s going to bring me so much satisfaction that I’ll remember it long after you’re gone.”
He stares me down, but there are cracks showing in his stoic mask. Sweat beads his upper lip. The scent of fear lingers in the air. Most of all, it’s the look in his eyes. He’s finally realizing that he’s going to die.
I say, “I’ll take into consideration the fact that you are Isa’s father. But only if you work with me a bit. Give me something that will make killing you quickly worth my while. I’ll let you think about it.”
Standing, I cross the room to the table where a glass and pitcher of water wait. Bass hasn’t had a lick to drink since he was captured two days ago. I’m sure he’s parched from all the crying and screaming he’s done. Filling the glass, I go back to him and take a long sip, emptying half the glass. Drool pools in the corner of Bass’ mouth.
“Need a drink,amico?”
Bass nods ever so slightly, so I tip the glass to his lips, letting him drink. He gulps it down as fast as he can, which is smart. I pull the glass away, and the rest of the water spills on his shirt.
“I…I’m a dead man if I tell.”
