Page 134 of Heartless Mafia Prince

I grabbed the leather apron resting beside me. After Agosto lined my path with a sheet of plastic, I hopped off the table.

Genn would assist him in hanging plastic over the walls. They’d create my personal torture chamber. I slipped my head through the leather apron neck strap.

“Genn, what was Luther’s routine during his pickups and deliveries?” I asked, as I tied the leather straps behind my back. I knew his routine. Genn filled me in before we left Philly. This was a tactic I liked to use to show thieves we had our shit together.

“One sec.” He jogged over to the long white table. Genn tapped a few keys on the laptop.

“This is Genn’s favorite part of the job. He was black ops. Mission logistics is his wheelhouse.” I smirked at Luther.

Bet Luther was normally a pale bastard. Thanks to the Grand Caymans, he had a year-round tan. He was a decent looking guy. Genn said Luther had women all around the world. They never stopped him from getting his job done. Reliability was one of his strong attributes. I didn’t think Luther stole from us, but I believed he knew who did.

The leather apron brushed against my boots as I stepped closer. I held my gloved hands in front of me. “You will give us the information today or you’ll die. It’s simple. Luckily, my father trained me to be a torture expert.”

Silent tears slipped down his bloody face. I didn’t give a shit.

I turned to the side. “Genn, what do you have?”

“On the way to the airport Luther stops for coffee. He fuels his private plane before departure. He always arrives at his destination on time. Doesn’t matter how many women he’s fucked in each city.” Genn shook his head. “You had a really sweet life. You fuck up.”

Agosto and I laughed.

Genn continued. “Our cargo is loaded onto his plane, then he’s off. We receive our cargo in a timely manner, and Luther flies back home or to visit another woman.”

“What happened the day the first shipment went missing?”

“There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. He fueled up in Kansas City and off he went.”

I pulled a disposable blue head covering over my hair, tucking my long hair inside. “And the second time?” I asked, as I slipped blue shoe coverings over my boots.

He stood. His big arms crossed his chest. “It was the same routine just in a different city. The last time it was Spokane. My guess is he goes for his bathroom break and once he returns, the men are waiting for him. They rough him up to make it look authentic. The two shipments were our biggest this year. Whoever took the shipments have our military grade rocket launchers. A hookup I’m now burned for.”

“Who are you working with, Luther?” I grabbed the nail gun off the table.

“Agosto, cover the table in plastic.”

“Ok.” He moved quick.

The plastic crunched under my feet as I approached.

“Please no,” Luther pleaded.

“Give me a description. Did they have accents? Give me something.” I yanked his sweaty hair, forcing his eyes on mine as I held the nail gun against his thigh.

“I’m waiting.”

“They didn’t have an accent,” he bit out.

“Good. Did they know who they were stealing from?”

He tried lowering his lids.

“Look at me,” I roared.

“I don’t know?” he muttered.

“Wrong answer.” I pulled the trigger.

Pop!

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