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“What do you want? I’m sure we can come to an amicable solution.” Jessop is working damn hard at staying cool, but I can hear his voice cracking and see the sweat beading on his forehead.
“You fucked up, buddy, and you fucked up big. You picked on the wrong girl,” Reno tells him. Jessop looks confused, but remains quiet.
“Let’s not forget how you were planning on taking our money and taking off,” Alessio adds.
Nero walks into the room and in the same accent he used when he was pretending to be the goon making fake passports, says, “Yo, I thought you said the going price was two hundred fifty grand to buy into the deal.”
Jessop’s face goes sheet white.
“I guess I got a deal,” Alessio adds. “My buy-in is a hundred and fifty.”
“Mine too,” Reno says.
Raffaele steps closer to Jessop, bending over and getting in his face. “You hit me up for a full two hundred and fifty thousand.” Raffaele clasps his hand around Jessop’s neck and begins to squeeze, cutting off his air supply. Jessop claws at Raffaele’s immoveable hand. “I don’t like being played for a fool,” Raffaele growls. He releases Jessop, leaving him gasping for air.
“People know I’m here,” Jessop says in desperation.
“Nobody cares, you idiot,” Reno says. “Your wife is already skulking around for her next meal ticket. You have no family, and no one will ever miss you. Killing you would be an act of kindness to the rest of the world.”
“We can do this the hard way or the easy way.” Raffaele pushes a blank pad of paper and pen across the table to land in front of him. “Personally, I prefer the hard way, however, my colleagues decided to give you the option.” He looks around the room at the others. “You’re going to write a confession.”
“I haven’t done anything,” Jessop declares. That’s my cue. Raffaele opens the door to let me in. Jessop looks me over. “I—I don’t know you.”
“No, you don’t.” I stand before him, crossing my arms over my chest, my feet planted firmly apart. “Francesca Deleigh. She mean anything to you?” I watch his jaw drop and his eyes grow wide.
“She—She put you up to this?” Jessop stutters. “You can’t believe that little bitch. She’s a liar and has been since I married her mother. Francesca’s a sick girl. She was jealous of her own mother, and when I rebuffed her advances, she became impossible.” I cut him off right there with a punch in the face. His head swings back and flops forward again. I watch as the blood gushes from his broken nose and runs down his face.
He sputters and moans. Alessio absently hands him a handkerchief. “I wouldn’t push him too far,” he tells Jessop. “He doesn’t take kindly to lies being spread around about his woman.”
“You’ve got two options. You either write a full confession exonerating Francesca and any of her business holdings from your plan of cheating thousands out of their money, or I’ll make sure you pay by giving you the most painful few hours of your life, followed by ending your miserable existence. Either way is a win for Francesca,” I explain.
Jessop looks around the room only to find the men around him cold to his pleas. “You can’t let him do that. It’s murder. You’ll never get away with it.” He sounds like an old cliché from a 1970s television series.
Raffaele has a sinister laugh, the kind that makes your hair stand on end. Jessop feels it down to his bones as he begins to shake and tremble. “I can’t go to prison,” he moans.
“The cemetery is it, then,” Alessio says, coming to his feet and rolling back the cuffs of his pristine shirt. “I hope you don’t bleed too much. My wife hates having to get blood out of my clothes.” He huffs.
Jessop gives it one last shot. “I’ll just tell the police I was coerced into a confession that isn’t true. It’ll never go to court.”
“Funny thing about cops, they don’t like scum either. I’ve got a couple who would testify that you went to them of your own accord to bare your soul. You wanted to set things right and clear your conscience,” Reno says.
“I hear a judge goes lighter on sentencing when there’s a confession and true repentance,” Nero says, then asks, “Are you repentant for having ruined so many lives, costing people their jobs and homes? I did my research. This isn’t the first time you’ve done something like this.”
Jessop doesn’t reply, fear apparent on his face. He picks up the pen, his hand shaking, and begins to write.
I wanted him to fight harder so I could beat his ass. Guard had it right that he was a spineless jellyfish and would give in quickly. I’m still not convinced that he won’t try to get out of this somehow, but Guard even has that covered. Reno has contacts at the police station who will be meeting us later so we can hand Jessop over to them. I’m going with them. I want to see the cops slap on the cuffs and haul him away.
“Tell me the real reason you did this to Francesca,” I demand. It’s going to eat at me, and I need to know.
“It wasn’t personal. Her mother was an easy mark, a woman of means, and we were comfortable together. Francesca wanted her mother to be happy, so she accepted the situation. I knew I would be cut off as soon as her mother died. Francesca’s grandfather hated me from the start. I needed the money, and since the Deleigh name was near royalty in our circle, I used it. Francesca was too green to realize my intentions, and that suited me perfectly. I repeat, it wasn’t personal, it was just…easy,” Jessop says.
I leave the room before I’m no longer able to. I want to make him hurt as much as he hurt Francesca, and I’m close to losing control. Dante is waiting for me outside with Guard.
“I recorded that. Once we have him arrested, I suggest his little message gets leaked to the press,” Dante says.
I nod.
“Send it to me,” Guard replies. “Demon and Maddie deal with a solid reporter, and she’ll do right by Francesca.” Guard turns to me. “You did great. Keep a lid on it. We’re almost there.”
