Page 59 of The Club

I swallow hard. I can never say it back. I feel it. Idolove Noah. But I can never say it.

Noah doesn’t expect me to. He squeezes my shoulder and draws back.

“So do you have anything?” I ask.

“Silva is mafia, Rafael. Going after him is risky. Very risky.”

“Noah. Please.”

He sighs and gets up from the coffee table, giving up. I don’t know why he bothers fighting me on shit like this. We both know how it will end. Noah walks to the kitchen and snags a folder from the counter.

“He was a suspect in two different child murder cases. Pedophile cases. They couldn’t get him.”

I stand from the couch. “I can.”

Noah opens the folder. “The addresses look like bullshit.”

“I don’t need them. I found him already. I only needed to know if he was bad.”

Noah looks up. I can see in his eyes that he doesn’t want to say it, because he knows what I’ll do, but he confirms, “He’s bad.”

I close my eyes and draw in a breath, anticipating what I’m going to do tonight.

“Make him pay, Rafael.”

I smile. “Oh, I will.”

***

I’m in Silva’s bedroom by the time he gets home. It wasn’t easy to get past his security system, but a townhouse is definitely more accessible than a high rise. No wonder he keeps this address secret.

I’m shivering with anticipation as I hide under his bed like the boogeyman while he showers and shits. It’s fun to surprise people in the shower, but it’s noisy, and he has two guards in the house.

So I wait. He gets in bed. It’s late and he reeked of alcohol and smoke coming in, so I’m not surprised when he’s out quickly. Besides, I roofied his pitcher of filtered water in the bathroom.

The dose was low. I need to talk to him. But I need him secured first, and that’s easier with him mildly sedated.

I slide out from under the bed and nudge his arm. He doesn’t react, so I get to work. He doesn’t stir as I tie his limbs to the bedposts. I even get a rope around his cock and balls before he wakes groggily.

“Wh-wha …?”

With my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I can easily make out his soft, pale body spreadeagled on the bed. He looks like a snail out of its shell. They’re all like this when you strip away their power.

Anton blinks at me dumbly. My lip twitches back from my teeth as my body rocks with the urge to plunge my knife into that doughy belly.

“Hello, Anton. I have some questions for you.”

He’s waking up more. “Fuck, I know you. Costa. The sex club.” His voice rises. “What the—”

I clamp a gloved hand over his mouth. “Listen to me, you sack of shit. If you shout, if you scream, if you do anything other thananswer my questionsquietly, I will rip off your balls.” I give the rope a light yank, making his eyes bug out. God, he’s gross. “I know you have men downstairs. I’ll be gone before they reach you—but so will your balls. Are we clear?”

He nods frantically.

I settle on the edge of the bed, keeping a firm hold on the rope. He’s going to lose these anyway, but he doesn’t need to know that yet.

“You’re fucking dead,” Anton hisses when I lift my gloved hand. “Do you hear me, Costa?Dead. The Morettis won’t—”

I lunge up and clamp a hand over his mouth again, squeezing so hard I wonder if I’ll break his jaw or if my fingers will punch right through his cheek. I yank the rope, hard this time. He thrashes and squirms. Tears stream from his eyes.

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