Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
He wasn’t so lenient with my wife. He wanted to give her a slow and violent death. It always sends a stronger message. He wants a fight? He picked the wrong fucking battlefield.
This isn’t war.
It’s going to be a massacre.
The feelings tearing me apart will have to wait. Survival comes first. Always. I have a responsibility to my wife and my family. I can’t go back in time and fix the unspeakable deeds that can’t be undone, but I can give Sabella vengeance.
“What’s going on?” my uncle asks. “Your men refused to tell me anything.”
Goddamn, I want to plant my fist in his face so badly. His mere presence is an offense. I want nothing more than to put a bullet in his brain, but I need him for the strategy I’m working out in my head.
“Who’s in the hospital?” he asks. “Are you just going to keep me in the dark?”
I face him squarely. “Who gave Sabella’s location to Marziale?”
He opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water.
“Was it you or Nico?”
I can’t even bring myself to call him my uncle any longer. He’s no family of mine. None of them are. Nico won’t be buried, neither on the family plot nor in an unmarked grave in the city cemetery. No, his body is already shark food.
“Angelo,” Enzo says, his tone beseeching.
My voice is harsh, every word measured. “Stop fucking saying my name.”
He nods a couple of times, his gaze turning closed-off. “It was Nico.”
I clench my hands hard, cracking my knuckles. “Did he give the information to Marziale himself?”
“I can’t say for sure.” He shrugs. “Nico said he’d take care of it.”
“Then it was Nico or Toma.”
“You have to understand. This is what your father wanted.”
“That you stab me in the back?”
He doesn’t reply.
“Do you know what they did to her?” I bite out.
He looks away.
I grab his face and turn it back to me. “I asked you a question.”
“I didn’t want to know the details,” he says with his lips puffed out from the pressure of my fingers on his cheeks.
“Ignorance.” My laugh is cold. “It’s always the easy choice, isn’t it?” I let him go with a shove and address the driver. “Give me a burner phone.”
The driver takes one of the phones we keep handy from the glove compartment, switches it on, and hands it to me.
I take Enzo’s arm, squeezing his wrist hard enough to make him flinch, and slap the phone on his palm. “Call Marziale. Tell him I’m coming for him. Tell him I called you and Nico and summoned your men. Tonight. At eight. His warehouses in Bastia.”
Enzo stares at the phone.
“And tell him I’m bringing enough explosives to make the Sydney New Year fireworks look like Disneyland. I’m going to blow up all those drugs he stashed away, ready to be shipped in my containers via my routes. I’m going to cut every one of his men to pieces, and then I’m going to skin him alive and gut him like the slimy fucking fish he is. He’ll watch his intestines spill from his fat, ugly stomach, and I’ll watch him die while he tries to shove them back.”
Enzo’s breath catches.
“Say that.” I take my gun and push the barrel against the rolls of fat on his side. “Repeat it fucking word for word.”
A trickle of sweat runs down his temple as he types a number into the phone with a shaking hand.
Caressing his ribs with the gun, I say, “You better be convincing.” My smile is mocking. “Try to sound normal if you can’t pull a confident tone off.”
“It’s two-thirty in the morning.”
I clench my jaw so hard is difficult to utter the words. “Say you just got news that my wife is dead.”
He swallows. “Angelo—”
“Just fucking do it,” I snap.
He jumps.
A ringtone cuts into the space.
“Put the phone on speaker,” I instruct.
Enzo wipes his brow as he complies.
The voice of a dead man comes over the line. That’s what Marziale is to me. I dig the barrel into Enzo’s flesh as he relays my message like I instructed. He does me proud, going as far as to say it’ll be a good opportunity to set a trap and off me once and for all.
When he’s done, I take the phone and tell the driver, “The new house.”
Enzo shoots me an anxious glance. He must be certain Sabella is dead. What was the plan? That Gianni would sit quietly while Marziale attacked? Then hide out somewhere until I was dead? Unluckily for them, they didn’t know I had the foresight to have them watched. What transpired with the men I stationed at the new house remains to be seen. The communication silence isn’t a good sign. I expect the worst.
On the way, I throw the phone over the cliff into the sea.