Page 2 of Deadly Don's Baby Contract

"Well, you wanted to wager on her, and you lost."

"You left me no option." I thump a fist on the table.

Marco stands up, a full head taller than me. "Be careful, baby brother. My patience for you only goes so far."

We stand there, staring at each other, when I feel my cell phone start buzzing in my pocket. I take it out and answer it. "What is it?"

"It's Jerry, boss. We caught him leaking information to the cops," one of my men, Donald, says.

"Where is he?" I look at Marco.

"Down in warehouse thirteen. We've got him tied up. What should we do?"

"Nothing. I'll be there shortly." I hang up and look at Marco. "We have a snitch that I need to deal with."

"Go deal with your snitch because I have a job for you when you're done, one I'm going to enjoy watching you do." He downs his whiskey. "Deal me in for another round. I'll play the house."

"What job?" I ask curiously.

"You're going to be my future bride’s bodyguard." He chuckles. "Genius, isn't it."

I purse my lips and sigh. "Sure."

I turn and leave, going straight to my car and getting in. Warehouse thirteen is on the other side of New York City, but I don't mind. I drive there leisurely. It's not like Jerry is going anywhere anytime soon.

I pull up to the warehouse and straighten my jacket. I take my gun out of the glove compartment and holster it to my side before I go into the warehouse. "Donald. What is it with snitches lately?"

"I don't know, boss. You'd think they'd learn their lesson when they hear about the others."

There's a muffled screaming, and I realize Jerry is gagged.

"Take the gag off, Donald. The poor man can't speak." I pull up a chair in front of Jerry and sit down.

Jerry shakes his head. "I'm not a snitch. I swear, Franco. The cops stopped me, but I didn't tell them nothing."

"Donald, what's your version of the events?"

"The cops did stop him, but we overheard him telling them he's going to give them one of our supply routes." Donald flicks Jerry on the side of his head. "Sounded very cocky and sure of himself."

"He's lying, Franco. Lying because he's jealous of how close you and I are."

"You and I are not close, though, Jerry," I say, tilting my head. "Now, I don't see why Donald would lie to me. Maybe your memory is just a little bad. Maybe we just need to jog it."

"No, Franco, please."

Donald hands me the pliers, and I kick my chair over as I get up. I grab Jerry's hand and clamp the pliers on a fingernail. "Were you going to tell the cops where my supply routes run?"

"No... No... I swear it," he sobs.

I start pulling on his fingernail, and after a moment of resistance, it starts to pull away and Jerry shrieks in pain. Once it's off, I hold it up for him to see. "This little piggy went to market."

I drop the nail on the floor and clamp another.

"Okay, okay. I was going to give them a smaller route. One that wouldn't affect you," Jerry sobs. "I'm sorry, Franco, but they threatened me. They had dirt on me. They'd busted my boy with drugs, and I had to say they were mine. I was in a corner."

I drop the pliers. "There, don't you feel better for being honest?"

Jerry has tears streaming down his face, and I sigh. "Now, what are we going to do with you?"

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