Page 35 of Mafia King's Forbidden Vows

“Useless?” I repeat after him. “You arrogant, self-centered bastard. Do you think I enjoy being dragged into this mess of yours? Do you think I don’t want to keep myself and my father alive?”

I can see the muscles in his jaw constricting, but he says nothing.

“You don’t get to waltz into my life, bark orders, and hold me accountable to debts I know nothing about,” I continue, my voice trembling with rage. “You want information? Fine. I’ll get you every freaking piece of info I can lay my hands on, but henceforth, don’t you dare insult me, threaten me, or accuse me of playing games…”

I’m sure I would have kept at it if he didn’t stand up at that moment. He just stares at me when he gets to his feet, chest heaving, then, without another word, stalks out of the door and slams it so hard that it rattles on its hinges.

I plop back onto the bed, cradling my head in my hands. I know I won’t be getting much sleep tonight.

Chapter thirteen

Elio

The five men cowering before me are on their knees, stripped to their underpants.

The motherfucking mole must either come from the men who were placed on guard that night, or someone who knew every single man who’d be on guard, and the only other person is Cortez. And he’d never do something like that.

I sent for all the men who were on guard that night to put them through an intensive interrogation under duress since nobody seems to know anything about the robbery or the whistleblower.

“There’s one of them left,Capo.” Cortez points out to me just when the last person walks in.

“What does that even mean? Who’d dare miss a meeting I summoned?” My voice thunders throughout my office, causing the men to huddle together in fright.

“He came in with the others but excused himself to use the restroom before you came in,” Cortez responds.

“Cortez, get me the register.”

My fingers flip through the document Cortez has just handed over to confirm that one of my men actually defied my direct order.

On the register there are really six men who were stationed at the warehouse on that particular night.

All of them are present except for one, Luis Dante.

“Get these men to the basement and meet me in the car. We’re going to pay our friend, Luis Dante, a visit. That bastard has a lot of explaining to do.”

Without wasting another second, I hurry to the garage to get my Maybach running. If the bastard suddenly disappeared a couple of minutes before I walked in, he must be scared as hell for his life, which only means he must be the traitor I’ve been looking for.

Immediately, Cortez slams the door shut, my hands push down on the gear, driving to his address as fast as I can, my tiresscreeching endlessly as I make sharp turns. My pulse pounds in my ears, my fingers twitching on the wheel.

The address on the register is a farm shed not too distant from the mansion where some of my workers are mandated to live while they actively work for me.

The old farm shed has been transformed into a cozy abode. A small wood-made front porch is lopsidedly attached to the actual building.

We get out of the car and close enough to see our guy, Luis, through the half-open front door, with his back to us in the middle of packing, and a duffel bag half-zipped on the bed. A phone is tucked between his shoulder and his ear.

“I did everything you asked. It’s time to keep your end of the deal. Get me and my girl out of this state safely…” he says, hurriedly grabbing whatever he can from the couch in the small room and cramming it into the duffel bag he’s trying to fill.

That’s enough for me. I don’t hesitate as I run up the few stairs of the porch, surging through his half open door, and drive my fist straight into his back. He lurches forward with a strangled gasp, the phone slipping from his ear. He barely has time to react before my fingers reach for his collar and throw him against the dresser. The wood cracks from the impact.

Cortez is on Luis’s phone in an instant, but the line is already dead. I figure the call was from a private number.

“Son of a bitch,” Cortez hisses.

Luis turns to me, coughing, stumbling. “Capo…”

My fist meets his face with a sickening crunch. His head snaps back, blood spraying from his nose. He cries out, but I don’t stop. My knee rams into his gut, making him buckle. I grab a nearby lamp and bring it down on his shoulder. The ceramic shatters, sending shards everywhere as he howls in pain.

“After everything I did for you…” I growl, another punch landing on his face, his lip splits open, blood dripping onto the floor, “…this is how you repay me?”

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