Page 85 of The Devil's Pawn

DANTE

“Where the fuck is she?” I ask Raquel’s mother, Simona, while my brothers stand behind me in her kitchen.

“I don’t know.” She narrows her eyes, tipping her chin up.

“You’re a liar.” I press the barrel of my nine-mil under her jaw. “I know she spoke to you before the van came. I know whose phone she used to call you. You’re the one who told Carlito to take her. I should kill you for it.”

I crouch my face to hers, my teeth gritted like a caged animal.

“And if I wasn’t falling in love with her, I wouldn’t hesitate to slice your throat.”

“Love?” Her cackle is as cold and vile as the heart she doesn’t have. “Oh, God. You’re as foolish as my daughter.” She presses her lips tight, mocking me with a laugh, like I’m pathetic. “Love doesn’t exist, my boy.”

I back away, not wanting to be anywhere near this insane excuse for a woman.

“Love is a made-up feeling we experience, but it slowly dies until nothing is left. You’ll see that if you ever get to find her.” An ugly smile makes it to the corner of her mouth. “She knows who you are now. I made sure of it.”

I really want to kill her, but I won’t let her get to me. If Raquel knows about me, that’s something we’ll figure out together. But my focus right now is finding her.

“I’m not interested in a philosophy lesson from you.” I lift the weapon, pushing it into her temple. “Let me make this crystal clear. I don’t care that you’re a woman. You hurt my wife. So you either tell me where she is in two seconds, or I beat it out of you. If you prove to be anything but useful, my men outside have been instructed to slit your throat and let you bleed out on your pretty white rug.”

“My husband was right about you all,” she hisses with a sneer. “You’re animals.”

Her bound legs jerk against the chair, making it rattle on the floor.

“He should know. He created us.” I straighten myself as I continue. “I guess he should’ve thought better than to have a hand in the murder of my family.”

“That’s notmyproblem.” She arches her chin, brows bending in indifference. “Ihad nothing to do with it.”

“Maybe not.” I shuffle a step, glaring into her hard, cruel eyes. “But you’re no innocent. You sent her to him. You knew what he’d do to her, but you didn’t give a fuck, did you? What sort of mother would do that? Not mine. She’d do anything for us. And your husband—yourfamily—took her. They took everyone from us.”

“I expect a certain level of respect from my only daughter,” she continues, running a finger past the edge of the hair surrounding her face. “And she’s failed. The consequences of that are entirely her fault.”

“Wow! You’re an evil bitch, aren’t you? Maybe I should kill you and save Raquel from you.”

I don’t understand how any mother worth a damn would allow her own child to be hurt in any way. But it’s like she really doesn’t care what happens to her own kid. How someone like this gave birth to Raquel, a good fucking person, I will never comprehend. There’s something not right with her.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. You wouldn’t hurt a woman.”

“Bitch, you’re not a woman. You’re a monster, just like your husband.”

Pop.

“Ahhh!” Her screams shatter through the walls, cracking like the bones in her foot.

I slant my body forward to whisper in her ear. “That was for Raquel.”

She pants, her body trembling. There’s no pity, just feral wrath.

“Whatever I do next will be forme, and believe me, it’ll be a lot worse than that,” I warn. “So, again, where is she?”

She weeps openly, no longer holding on to her bravado. Slanting my eyes to a close, I pull in a dramatic inhale, my gun pointing to her stomach.

“Wait,” she snivels. “I…I’ll tell you.”

But she doesn’t. She sobs instead.

“I don’t have all fucking day!” I shout. “He could be killing her already!”

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