Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
We entered the airport, and everyone in the ticketing area ducked behind the counters. People in line for security immediately screamed and ran for the exits or the restrooms because they were closer.
I stopped underneath one of the screens, seeing that all the planes were grounded, but their gates were still assigned. “Gate eight.” I headed in the right direction, walked through security. The guards didn’t try to stop us but ducked down and grabbed their radios to call the police.
Who wouldn’t do a damn thing about it.
I ignored everyone and walked straight ahead, paying no attention to the people who continued to scream and run. The airport wouldn’t normally be this busy at this hour, but since all the flights were delayed, it was packed with exhausted and pissed-off travelers.
Every gate we reached caused panic, with people screaming and running. Sometimes it was dead silent, like people were too scared to make a noise. By the time we reached gate twelve, which was the last one, people had cleared out.
Umberto sat in one of the rows of black leather chairs, wearing an open dark brown coat and a black bowler hat with an enormous gold cross hanging from a chain around his throat. His head was tilted down in a form of pathetic surrender. No one else was there, probably because his men had abandoned him the second they saw people run for the exits. Probably knew the big bad wolf was on the way.
I stopped in front of him, several feet away, and watched him avoid me like a boy who had been caught sticking his hand in the cookie jar. “On your feet.”
He remained seated and slightly hunched forward.
I grabbed him by the back of the jacket and threw him on the floor. “On your feet.”
He hit the floor with a slight wince but stayed down.
I kicked him so hard he flipped over.
Leo and the rest of the guys stood there, watching the pathetic scene.
I spat on his coat. “Figgh’i buttana…” Then I kicked him again, sent him rolling onto his other side.
He heaved on the floor because I’d probably broken a rib or two. Then he slowly, pathetically, pushed himself to his feet.
“Take him.”
Leo and the others moved forward to grab him.
He didn’t put up a fight at all. “Luigi deserved better—”
“He was an idiot for thinking he could cross Don Mancini. Now the entire Lombardi line is gone. Well…almost. I still have to have some fun with your wife before I throw her into the ditch.”
He’d been apathetic up until that point, but the second I mentioned his family, he went pale in the face. His bottom lip trembled in horror, but he didn’t say a word, probably not wanting to give anything away just in case it was a bluff.
“Our men grabbed her and your daughter at the Catania airport.”
The white of his face shifted to a sicklier color. His eyes drifted away as the horror sank into his bones.
“Tell me, does she like it in the ass?”
“Mercy,” he pleaded. “I’m the one who did this, not her.”
“Francesca Mancini had nothing to do with your brother’s affairs, but you plotted to take her and let your men stick their dicks anywhere they would fit.” I stepped toward him. “Those were your orders—word for word.”
He tried to get out of Leo and Andre’s grasp, but he was decades older and helpless. “Just…please…”
“Your wife will be a come dumpster until she finally offs herself. Now, let’s go.” I turned away.
He burst into tears behind me and sobbed. “No! Mercy! Mercy!”
I grinned as I walked off.
I executed him the way I did with the others, hung him from a tree and cut his insides out. Let everything drip out onto the ground and curse the roots of the branch that held him. I used the high beams of the cars for light.
We were near one of the main roads, so when the sun came up, cars would drive by and see his mutilated body. It would make headlines in the news—and everyone would know not to fuck with Francesca Mancini.
I grabbed the wet towel that Leo handed to me and wiped my hands clean before I took care of my knife.
“Did you really grab his wife?”
“No.” I slipped the towel underneath my short nails, making sure to get every drop of that traitor’s blood off me.
“So, that was all a lie?”
“He believed it—and that’s all that matters.” I tossed the dirty towel on the ground. “Now let’s get home. I’m fucking tired.”
27
WOLFE
It was almost sunrise by the time I pulled up to her house.
It would be daylight soon, so my Range Rover would be easy for anyone who came close to spot, but I didn’t give a damn.
Come for me.
Come for me and see what happens.
I let myself in like I owned the place, even though I just owned the woman inside.