Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86883 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 348(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Sure.
“And I only want to let you know that I won’t ever need anything. So no more midnight knocks at my door, got it?”
Before he can utter another word, I close the door, pull the safety chain across, and double-check the lock.
I exhale roughly as I lean against the door and watch Snake slither back to his office through the window. He stops to pick up a half-smoked cigarette butt from the gutter and dusts it off before shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans.
Full of fatigue and nausea, I fall onto my bed and fight the tears pricking the back of my eyes. I squeeze them shut, will them to stay closed, and pray I don’t get murdered in my sleep.
11
MASSIMO
The next day, I make good on my vow to make Marco V fish food.
Despite being surrounded by hired guns when we arrive at his apartment, they are no match for me and my men.
After taking out his frail security, I find the lowlife drug dealer in his bedroom, his pants around his ankles, about to climb on top of an unconscious girl on his bed.
“Hi, Marco, remember me?” I say, my weapon drawn and pointed at his head. He lunges for his gun on the bedside table but I shoot off a couple of his fingers before he can reach it.
He falls onto the bed, grabbing his hand in pain, his small dick turning flaccid between his legs.
The girl on the bed groans but still doesn’t come around.
Jesus, she looks young.
“Not a very friendly welcome,” I say, strolling over to him. “Anyone would think we weren’t friends.”
“You shot me,” he yells, clutching his hand as he rolls around on the bed. “You motherfucking shot me.”
I aim for one of his knees and pull the trigger. “Oops, I did it again.”
He cries out in agony.
I don’t usually get my hands this dirty. But this one is personal. In the ambush, I lost Alex, a loyal capo. I also lost three other men who were loyal to the De Kysa. Marco needs to pay for it. It’s how I do business. You take out one of my men and the entire De Kysa clan will come crashing down on you, led by me in the flesh, coming to burn your kingdom down.
“What are you doing?” he yells.
“I know it was you who ordered the ambush. So this is my retort.”
Another shot. Another knee.
“You fucker.” He moans like a wounded beast, angry and in pain. “I’ll kill you. I’ll motherfucking kill you.”
“You tried, remember? Ninety rounds and not one of them hit me. So far I’m three for three. Want to make four for four?”
“Fuck you, Massimo. Your days are numbered.”
“Maybe. I’ll let fate decide. Until then…” I point my gun at his forehead. “This is from Alex.” And I pull the trigger.
Blood spatters across the bed, but still, the girl doesn’t wake up.
On the way out of the room, I tell one of my men, “Get her to a safe place. Then call an ambulance.”
My cleanup crew will dispose of Marco and his men in the Atlantic. It will take some time, but no one will know we were even here.
It’s why I pay my men the big bucks.
And why the De Kysa rule the city.
A few hours later, I’m at one of the De Kysa warehouses, checking a cargo of bootleg moonshine ready for shipment when Matteo walks in.
“Did you get the new campaign of surveillance in place?” I ask him.
“Yes, there are eyes and ears on her at all times. More than last time. She does anything, and we’ll know about it.”
This isn’t our first campaign of surveillance on Bianca. The truth is, we’ve had eyes and ears on her since her father died. We wanted to know who she was aligned with and what she was planning.
When Nico died, and I became don, I increased the surveillance on Bianca because all reconnaissance showed there was nothing brewing. No planned retaliation for Don Bamcorda’s death, and it didn’t feel right.
It felt like we were missing something. So I probed deeper into her life. Paid people stupid amounts of money for information. Put more eyes on her. Now, those eyes have increased even more.
“Anything to report?” I ask him.
“She’s not much of a bartender. According to Dario, she spills drinks on customers. Fucks up orders. The customers seem to like her, though, from what I’ve seen. But who wouldn’t. With a juicy ass like that.”
“Your hands go anywhere near that ass and it’ll be the last thing you touch. She’s off-limits. Got it?”
He lifts his brow, amused. But has the sense not to say anything.
“What else have you got on her? She look legit?”
“She doesn’t make any calls either, landline or cell.”
“Public phone box?”
“No, nothing. This girl has no one. No family. No friends. No allies.”