Page 34 of Heartless Mafia Prince 2: Rocco & Ryah

He hovered over Jessie, squeezing his face with one hand. Dad and I were dressed similar. We wore leather aprons over our cargo pants and dark t-shirts.

“You and three others helped these motherfuckers try to tear us apart. Guess what? It didn’t work,” he snarled.

Jessie’s brown eyes widened. “I don’t know about anyone else,” he panted through the pain.

“Those assholes planted moles in the other families. See, we know you all were working with a member of the De Bello family. We want to know who. It’s time for them to die,” he roared.

Dad stood up straight and opened his free hand. “Divy.” He pointed his chin upward.

Perched on a wooden chair beside a steel table, Divy grabbed the blow torch, and tossed it to him. Dad caught it in midair.

“Let’s have a little fun,” he laughed.

Dad fired up the blow torch and fanned it across the opening of the nail gun.

“Time to heat your ass up.” He flashed a devious grin.

Shit, I’ll have to try that next time.

He pointed the nail gun at his thigh.

“I don’t give a fuck how loud you scream. You will give me fucking answers, or I will start removing your organs while you’re still alive,” he growled.

Dad took torture to a new level. He was the ultimate monster.

He waved the blow torch over his skin.

“Please no,” Jessie begged.

Dad fired the nail into Jessie’s muscled thigh.

He wailed like a fucking baby.

Chest puffed out, dad stepped back, taking in his handy work. “You worked for me! Your job was to protect my family. Instead, you fed my son to treacherous wolves like you’d worked for them all along,” he roared.

Dad was beside himself. Almost losing me weighed on his psyche.

The stadium seat I occupied was front and center of the main event. Dad didn’t let up. The blazing blow torch sailed across Jessie’s stomach.

The putrid and steaky smell of his flesh burning lit the air.

“Ok, ok, I’ll tell you what I know,” he cried, spit flying everywhere.

Dad grabbed a handful of Jessie’s short, blond hair. “You better.”

“She goes by the queen.”

That made sense. The woman wore a costume queen head when I saw her.

“I don’t know her real name.” He breathed heavily between statements.

“She hates the De Bello’s. She said all the families had to pay for doing business with them.”

“Have you seen her face?” Genn asked, stepping closer.

“No,” he wheezed.

“I met with her and another man.” Jessie paused. “He was a tall slender guy with olive colored skin.”

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