Page 38 of Mafia King's Surprise Baby

“Tell me, Mattia. What do you think she’ll be like?”

He picks up my cue. We can’t use Abrashi’s pregnant girlfriend to get him to talk, but we can use the idea of her.

“That curvy little blonde? Nice piece of ass on her.”

“Right,” I concur. “What’s her name? Though I don’t think my men are gonna bother knowing her name to double fuck that tight cunt of hers.”

“Yeah, some of those shitheads are turned on by a pregnant woman.” He snaps his fingers. “Arlene. That’s—”

A mighty roar comes from Abrashi. He’s surged out of the chair and is coming at us.

I stop him with a slam of my hand against his throat. He falls to the ground, garbled sounds coming from him.

“If you touch her,” he mutters.

“Tell me where Bianca is, and I won’t.”

“My family will kill you.” He spits at my feet.

“Won’t matter if you’re dead first.”

Silence thrums for a long moment…then Abrashi is laughing.

Mattia’s on him like a possessed beast. He’s grabbed the Albanian’s thinning hair and is pounding his head into the tiled floor.

I stay his hand and shake my head when he finally glances at me. If he kills him, we won’t get any closer to finding Bianca.

Abrashi starts to laugh again. Fucker’s not going to give us anything. And the sound of his high-pitched laughter sounds like a hyena’s; it’s seriously getting on my nerves.

“Bitch’s not even worth it.”

“What did you say?” Mattia’s flying at him again. I pull him away.

“Kill me if you want. It’s not going to change a thing.”

I breathe in deep, thinking. “Ardian, you’re free to go if you tell us where Bianca is and we recover her safely. Think of Arlene, of your baby.”

“Assuming it’s his,” Mattia adds.

Pure rage lights up in Abrashi’s eyes.

“That bitch of Bianca is mine,” he spits at us. “You know why I’m a good accountant? It’s because I cover my tracks. I always do.”

Only the first part of his rant has registered in my mind, and I’m seeing red. Rage, anger, thirst for blood—his blood—is lighting mine on fire, like a lit lighter thrown onto a trail of gasoline. A trail that leads me right to him, making me crouch, grab him by the neck, pull his thrashing form all over the floor to get to thebasement door.

He’s done something to Bianca, I just know it; he doesn’t deserve to live. He also doesn’t deserve to get a life with the woman he loves, build a family with her, welcome his child into this God-forsaken world.

Not when I might be denied all this, a future with Bianca, the woman I love, because of him.

He needs to die.

This, I’ll make sure of.

Adrenalin is coursing through me like a powerful drug fueled by wrath. It’s no hardship to pull his weakling form to standing in the gap of the open door. Pushing him down into the void is a piece of cake. He tumbles into the darkness, mouth open in a silent scream. At least I assume it’s silent, as I can only hear the roar of blood in my ears.

He lands with a thud on the cellar floor.

Still, I’m going to make assurance double-sure. I take the stairs down, crouch by his prone body, see the twitch still there at the corner of his lips.

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