Page 135 of Heartless Mafia Prince

“Ah,” Luther cried out in agony.

“You’ve transported millions of dollars’ worth of cargo for us over the last two years. What changed?”

“Nothing. I don’t know who the men were or why they’re targeting me.”

I pointed the nail gun at his other thigh and pulled the trigger. “That’s bullshit.”

“Ouch,” he hollered.

Luther sobbed uncontrollably.

“Motherfucker, the next nail goes in your foot.” I leaned over and growled.

“Luther, I have all week. Don’t make me pull out my machete. I’ll start chopping off body parts while you’re still breathing.” The cold calculated words left my mouth.

“Are they threatening to kill someone close to you? We can protect you both. Genn will rescue whoever the person is. Give us a name.”

Snot dangled from his nostrils.

Silence.

Did he think not saying a word wouldn’t get a rise out of me?

“I don’t...have...a name,” he uttered, out of breath.

Crouching in front of him. I held up the nail gun. “Are you sure about that?”

His eyes squeezed shut.

Shaking my head, I pressed the nail gun against the top of his foot and fired off a nail.

My body shuddered as I glanced at my handy work.

“Ah, Ah,” he hollered. His screams and cries echoed around the large room.

Luther’s head slumped over.

I stepped over to the table and dropped the nail gun. “Guys, let’s take a break.”

I knew Luther wouldn’t last much longer. He’d bleed out soon. Why was he protecting them?

Sitting on the kitchen counter I called dad.

“Rocco?”

“Hey, Dad.”

“Do you have anything for me?”

I sighed. “Nothing.”

“Ok. Talk to you later, son.”

“Yup.”

I disconnected the call.

The guys stared at me from across the room.

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