Page 58 of Cruel Tyrant

“I don’t know,” he says, pleading now. “Seriously, I’m a fucking nobody. Come on, man, I don’t know where Santoro’s staying. I can tell you where my boss is?—”

“Talk,” I snarl, two seconds away from gutting him and moving on.

“He’s always at the Dirty Rotten. It’s a club a few blocks south of here. He’s there every fucking night.”

“Your Capo?”

“Yeah, my fucking Capo, okay? Just put the knife down, man.”

Suddenly, sirens scream nearby. They’re a few blocks away, but they’re close, and getting closer. I stare across the street and Emilio’s flashing signs at me, telling me to get out of there.

I stare back at Joey, and he’s smirking now.

“What the fuck did you do?” I snarl in his face.

“Guess I got some friends in the neighborhood.”

I curse and press the knife tighter. He must’ve hired some local kids to watch his back and call the cops if something ever happened to him on his walk home. It was a pretty common insurance move for some of these scumbags.

Except in this case, it’s backfiring.

“Here’s your mistake,” I whisper, getting close. The sirens are louder and I should already be running, but I’m too angry to move. “You thought I’d care about having blood on my hands.”

“Wait—” he starts but I plunge my blade into his throat and saw across his windpipe. He gags, struggling and flailing like a fucking animal, but it’s too late. I shove off him as he bleeds out, his life pumping from a jagged gash in his ugly neck. The sirens are a block away and Emilio’s already gone.

I run to the opposite end of the alley and throw myself onto the next block over. I’m covered in blood, but exhilarated, and I’m lucky there’s nobody around. I sprint across the street, through an empty lot, and on to the next street over, where I proceed to hop fences, skirt parked cars, and prowl in the darkness until a car comes screaming to a halt in front of me. Emilio’s behind the wheel, and he doesn’t look happy.

“You should’ve run right away,” he says, glaring when I get in beside him. “Did you really kill the bastard?”

“It’s war. You better start driving.”

Emilio sighs and hits the gas.

Santoro won’t miss Joey, but he’ll get the message: we’re coming for him. And now I have my next target.

* * *

I take a long, hot shower to get all the blood off me. I burned my clothes in the back yard and I’ll bury the ashes in the morning. I’m sure Simon already got word of my near-miss and he’ll have something to say about it, but I don’t care. I scrub to get all the blood from my fingernails.

Stefania’s waiting for me by the sinks when I get out. She glances at my naked, dripping body, and I know my wife likes what she sees, but she doesn’t move closer.

“Should I get back in there? Do you want to join me?” I ask, a teasing smile on my face.

“No, thanks.” She throws a towel at me. “Elena just called.”

I groan and look at the ceiling. My fucking siblings. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“She said you nearly got caught. She said you were being reckless. Davide?—”

“I’m fucking fine.” I wrap the towel around my waist. It’s a shame, because I’d love to fuck my wife right now, especially with all the adrenaline from that kill still rolling in my veins. “It was a calculated risk.”

“That’s not the story I heard.”

“You shouldn’t be hearing anything at all,” I say and brush past her into the room. I start getting dressed, annoyed that my siblings are talking about me behind my back and second-guessing my decisions. Emilio’s going to get some shit for telling them about this.

“You have to take care of yourself,” Stefania says. I pause, my shirt halfway on, and slowly pull it down before turning to face her.

She bites her lip and I swear on my life, she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Not only is she immensely fuckable, but she cares about me in a way I’ve never experienced before. My sisters give me shit for taking risks, and my brothers shout me down when I go too far, but Stefania is genuinely worried about my well-being.

---