Page 142 of Brutal Legacy

I fought a snort but didn’t quite manage it. Massimo was never unarmed.

His head turned toward me, and then he was charging over the half-stall door.

He landed right in front of me as I stood and aimed a punch at the side of his head. I wouldn’t shoot him. He used to be on my team. It was impossible to see him as the enemy, despite the reality of the situation.

The punch glanced off his temple when he spun around and faced me.

“Long time no see, boss.” Massimo smirked at me.

He’d always been able to laugh in the face of death; murder and mayhem didn’t faze him. In fact, it was quite the opposite.

He lunged first, his boot crunching in the straw. I twisted, barely dodging the jab meant for my throat. My back hit the stall door, the horse inside shifting restlessly. Massimo came in again, faster this time, a brutal hook aimed for my ribs. I caught his wrist, twisted, and drove my elbow toward his jaw. He ducked and countered with a knee to my stomach. It wasn’t the first time we’d fought. We used to make a game of it. For a second, it felt just like it had then, until the pain set in.

Pain exploded through my core, but I absorbed it, using the momentum to spin and drive my shoulder into his chest. We crashed to the floor, rolling in the dirt and straw, fists colliding with flesh. He got on top, his forearm crushing my windpipe. My vision blurred. I struck blindly — one, two, three shots to his ribs — before hooking my legs around his and reversing the position. I slipped a knife out of the sheath on my forearm and held it to Massimo’s throat.

Now I was on top. Now I had the advantage. I pressed my blade to his throat, just enough to make the fight go out of him.

“Why are you here, Mass?”

“What can I say? I hate not being invited to a party, so I’m crashing. Good to see you, Colonel Santori. It’s been a while.”

Massimo chuckled. He’d always had that psychopathic edge. A man who thrived on chaos and darkness. I’d felt it even then, when he’d been an up-and-coming recruit and I’d been his first commander.

“Not long enough. Why did you take this contract?” I demanded, pushing the knife harder against Massimo’s throat.

“It was a hell of a payday.” Massimo laughed.

“Try again… and tell me the truth.”

“Why shouldn’t I take it? Should I have let someone else take it and come after you? Besides, Ravelli has something I want.”

“What?”

“A name. An important one. I need it.”

“And so you kill me, and he gives you the name? What name?”

“You wouldn’t know it. The man wasn’t someone you’d know.”

“Try me.”

Massimo sighed. “Unless you have very intimate knowledge of local steel manufacturing around 1988 in these parts, I doubt you’d know.”

“Wait, steel manufacturing around Castel Amaro?” Giada said in my ear. Her keyboard clacked. “That rings a bell.”

“I might know more than you think,” I told Massimo.

“Got it!” Giada said excitedly. “There’s a ton of information on the drive that the prosecutor sent to Georgia, all about the first work they did and who they worked with. A steel business came up, as did the names of the people in charge.”

I told Massimo as much.

He grinned. “Well, fuck me, Colonel Santori, you’ve still got it. Do you mind?” he asked and pushed the knife from his throat.

I let him.

I sat up, and he wiped blood from his broken nose.

“How did you get Georgia here?”

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