Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 94720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94720 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“P-p-p-p-”
“Please, what? You told me your daughter begged for you to stop, and you didn’t,” I said, holding the knife in a steady grip as I made my way lower. “You told me it was a mistake.”
“I-i-i-i-t was.”
“Well, I’m about to make a mistake, too.” I smiled at the look of horror he gave me when he realized where the knife was. “Maybe you’ll learn from this mistake and not repeat it in your next life.”
I sliced his dick off in one go. His screams bounced off the walls as blood cascaded down his legs. I stepped back to admire my work. It wouldn’t kill him, but it’s the price he paid for raping someone. Behind me, Mattia started to heave and throw up. I stared at Wally, watching the shivers become uncontrollable shakes, hearing the sounds of the chains rattle louder and louder. God, the human body was something else. He’d lost all this blood, and he was still alive. I moved forward and stabbed him on both sides of his stomach and, lastly, hit his femoral artery. Blood spattered all over me.
The chains stopped rattling. I groaned as I turned around and looked down at myself. I should’ve worn my other boots. I walked over to the bucket of disinfectant next to my table of instruments, dropped the knife in it, and then walked back to the lever. I pulled the lever and let the cold, angry water cascade over him. I pulled it again to switch it off and shook my head, looking at Matti. “That was boring, but it’ll have to do.”
Matti gaped at me, still holding his stomach.
“Come on, Matt. You’ve seen bad shit.”
“I’ve never seen a man’s dick cut off.” He gagged again.
“You know what Gio’s cousins would do?” I glanced over and smiled at the horrified face he was making. “They would’ve made him eat his dick.”
Matti set a hand on his stomach and started heaving.
“Call Tony. He won’t have a problem cleaning this up.” I walked over and patted his shoulder. “I’ll leave the truck. I have somewhere to be.”
I took a deep breath when I walked out of the warehouse and headed to our meet-up spot. I’d have to bag everything I wore and drop it off here so it could be taken to the crematorium. I was fucking pissed about my boots. I stripped just inside the door of The Place to not dirty it. We hated when there was blood in here. Once I was done bagging it, I grabbed my black suit and headed to the shower. Normally, I would have skipped Giuseppe’s party, but I looked forward to seeing the Principessa again.
6
ROCCO
Lenora De Luca was a fucking vision. I was glad this was where I saw her again after so many years, because if she’d walked into my new bar, I would have charmed her and had her back against the brick wall in under ten minutes. She kept looking at me like I was her next treat, so I knew she’d let me. I pushed all those thoughts away and focused on Dean and Lorenzo's conversation. Every time her throaty laugh filtered through the room, my cock stirred. I’d thought it last night when I saw her in that fucking see-through dress, but tonight she was even sexier. Tonight, she was wearing a satin dress in deep green. It was looser than last night’s, but it had the same effect on me. I knew every man in this room, except for her family members, was picturing her naked.
Who could blame them?
I noticed that she didn’t smile at them, not really anyway. She gave them a polite smile before she turned away. Our eyes caught, and I waited for her to look away, but she didn’t. She didn’t smile either. She looked a little nervous — and turned on — which turned me way the fuck on. I could easily school my face to look nonchalant and unaffected, but no one would fault me if I checked her out. Soon, she’d be married and whisked away to Italy, and I’d probably never see her again unless there was a funeral. I took a sip of my drink to rid myself of the sour taste left in my mouth.
She was promised to Adriano Salvati. Thirty-six years old. Duke Adriano to those who properly addressed him, which would not be me. He walked around with an air of importance as if his title wasn’t just there out of courtesy. There was no legality to his title. He couldn’t do anything with it besides try to impress American women because, let’s be honest, women here flocked to those kinds of men. I doubted the women in Italy would, considering they knew it was all a facade — a stupid one, at that. Adriano Salvati held no power in any arena. If you believed the rumors, which I never fucking did, he was so well connected in the world of organized crime that he could make anyone bend to his will. I didn’t buy it. To me, he was as phony as the title he hid behind. A little boy trying to play a part, which I guess was what most of us were doing.