Page 142 of Mafia Kings: Valentino

“You wanna payhisfuckin’ debt, too, Mr. Bleedin’ Heart?” Rocco asked me.

“No, I’ll let him handle it,” I said, depressed as hell from what I’d just seen.

After the drug dealers came the pimps. We found them at no-tell motels, the kinds that rented by the hour. Sleazy-looking assholes with open shirts and gold chains around their necks. Predators and bottom feeders.

In the rooms behind them were the women, on breaks between customers.

Some were brash and funny as they catcalled Rocco’s men, offering them a discount.

But the vast majority were frightened and didn’t make eye contact.

Many of them were drug-addicted, with red-rimmed eyes and glassy stares. Some had needle tracks up and down their arms.

My stomach hurt every time I saw one of them sitting in the background, slowly rocking back and forth, staring into space.

I remembered how Dario had banned all pimps in our territory and ordered that all the women were to be offered 5000 euros if they would get out of prostitution and do something else.

At the time, we’d all thought he was crazy –

But now, standing outside those tawdry hotel rooms, I decided it was the best thing he’d done since he became Don.

The pimps were almost all on time with their payments. The ones who weren’t gave Rocco most of themoney and promised the rest by the end of the day.

I looked past them at the lost souls under their control. I knew exactly where the pimps were going to get that money…

And I wanted to kill every last one of them for what they were doing to those women.

46

Caterina

Getting to Gela took an hour and a half.

The taxi driver let me charge my phone on a cord he had plugged into his cigarette lighter. Luckily, the cord was long enough to reach into the backseat – because I kept checking my phone every two minutes for more texts, which never came.

The driver was pretty happy; he should have been. The cab fare cost 130 euros, but he’d refused to take me for less than 300.

“No way in hell I’m going to get a passenger in Gela to drive back to Catania,” he said, so I’d given in.

He let me out in front of Casa di Violetta, which was a tiny hotel set back along an alley. I knew it was near the beach because I could hear seagulls cawing.

I checked into the hotel, which was old but cute. It had a large wooden counter the clerk stood behind… watercolors of the seaside framed on the walls… and an orange-and-white-tiled floor.

There was no elevator, unfortunately, so I had to lug my suitcase up three flights of stairs.

The room was old but cute, just like the hotel – but it was also roomy with a queen-size bed. The bathroom was dated but clean. There was a balcony, too, but unfortunately it looked out on the building across the alley.

I put my suitcase down…

Checked my appearance in the mirror over the dresser…

Then held my breath as I texted,I’m here.

After that, I waited.

Five minutes later, a text came from my mysterious contact.

I’ll text you where to meet us. I’m going to try to pull him away now.

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