Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“I’m here because I suspect you had a part in this.”
The man all but preened, his legs crossing, one hand reaching up to run through his thick mop of white hair. Dario imagined him scalped, that patch of hair hanging from his grip, the blood dripping from it.
“I have a part in everything that goes on in my casinos.”
“Including murder?”
Hawk shrugged. “If the situation calls for it.”
Dario walked over to the row of bookshelves, his steps measured, eyes flicking over to the bodyguards, who flanked either side of the door. He eyed the shelves, which held an assortment of collectibles and first edition books. He reached forward, picking up a Getty bust and examining the deep lines in its face, the dead look in its eyes. Hawk revered the man. Dario had sometimes wondered if he hadn’t left his daughter at the mercy of Mexican kidnappers in an attempt to emulate the man. Only, Gwen hadn’t lost an ear. She’d lost so much more.
“I don’t engineer situations, Dario. I respond to them. Just like I respond to disloyalty.”
Dario waited for him to continue, to confess something, but the old man stayed silent. He set down the bust and carefully chose his next words. “You think disloyalty should be punished?”
“I think you’re talking in circles when you seem to have an accusation to make.”
Dario moved further down, circling the end table, until he was back in the man’s line of sight. He stopped, his hands in his pockets, and met his gaze. “I want to know why you had her killed.”
“Ah. I thought I heard something about a woman dying. A brunette, right? But surely you don’t think I had anything to do with that.”
“I think you had everything to do with it.”
The man’s mouth curved a little at the sides, a gruesome half-smile forming. “As I said before, I have a part in everything that goes on in my casinos. My casinos. Not yours. Just like Gwen. Gwen is not yours, she’s mine. And you haven’t been treating what’s mine with the right level of care.”
The urge to smash his head against the table, to break his neck and rip his body into pieces… it was too great and Dario forced himself to take a moment. He sat behind the heavy oak desk and pulled open a drawer. “I need a drink. You have a fucking drink in here somewhere?” He slammed the drawer.
“I’m intrigued to see that you’re so affected by this woman’s death, Dario. It disappoints me, to say the least.”
The second drawer of the desk was half open when Hawk spoke. Dario paused, his hand inside the drawer, before pulling his hand back out. Slowly rising to his feet, he pushed the drawer closed with the toe of his shoe.
Walking forward, he halted before the man and lowered himself until he was crouching, their eyes level with each other.
One of the guards protested, and Robert Hawk waved him off. “Let the man speak.”
“I am affected by her death. I want you to look into my eyes and see how affected I am. I want you to look into my eyes and know that I loved her. I still love her. I cherished her. And I cared for her. I broke my fucking back bending over to care for her.”
“Be careful Dario. Every word you speak is a spit—”
“Shut up, old man.”
The goon’s hands closed on Dario’s arms, yanking him to his feet and pulling him backward. When Robert Hawk rose to his feet, his face was hard, his eyes glowering, and he stalked forward with the gait of a younger and stronger man.
“You act surprised. Why? You disrespected me by sleeping with that trash. You disrespected my daughter by keeping a mistress. You have gotten too big for yourself, Mr. Capece. I removed the distraction. I righted the ship. You should bow forward and thank me for putting you in line and punishing your slut—something that you didn’t seem strong enough to do yourself.”
“You didn’t right the ship. You sunk it. You think you punished my slut?”
“That bullet did. I heard she sank to her knees like a whore when it hit.”
“No.” Dario yanked his arms free from the men and glared back at Hawk, the fury and emotion leaking out of the corners of his words. “That was your daughter that sank to her knees. That was your daughter that the bullet found. That brunette you are so fucking cheery about dying? That was Gwen.”
The reaction rippled off Robert Hawk in stages. First came a tremor. The edges of his beard trembled, his eyes narrowed, and Dario watched as his gnarled hands tightened into fists. “Excuse me?”
“Your man killed the wrong woman. He killed Gwen.”
Hawk opened his mouth and wiped a trembling hand over his beard. As he swallowed, his Adam’s Apple bobbed. “I was told that the Hartley girl was dead. It was verified.”