Page 46 of His Ruthless Obsession

Angelo spits blood. "Go to hell."

I slide off my suit jacket, rolling up my sleeves. "That's not very polite." My fist connects with his ribs. Something cracks. "Sounds like you were quite chatty earlier."

"Told us everything about the Mantiones' plan to hit our supply routes next week," Marco confirms. "Specifically the shipment coming in through the docks."

I grab Angelo's jaw, forcing him to look at me. "See, now I know where to move my men. But that's not enough." Another punch, this time to his kidney. He screams. "I want names. Every single person who's been feeding information to Sal."

"I don't-" His words cut off as I drive my knee into his stomach.

"Names," I demand, grabbing a handful of his hair. "Or I start removing pieces."

"Just me and Frankie." Angelo gasps. "And Carlos...from the sports book."

"We knew those already." I stare at him. "Who else?"

"That's all I know, I swear to God-"

The crack of his finger breaking fills the room. "God's not here." I show him the blade. "But I am. And I don't appreciate lies."

"Maria!" He sobs. "Maria from the restaurant. She's been passing messages."

I step back, studying his broken form. The information matches what we already suspected, but confirmation is always nice. Still, examples need to be made.

"You know what the worst part is?" I trace the knife down his chest, drawing a thin line of blood. "It's not the stealing. It's not even the betrayal. It's that you thought you could get away with it."

His screams echo off the warehouse walls as I carve my message into his flesh. By the time I'm done, what's left of him isn't even recognizable. But everyone will know exactly why he died.

I wipe Angelo's blood from my hands, turning my attention to Frankie. He's conscious now, terror clear in his eyes as they dart between Angelo's mutilated corpse and me.

"Your turn." I crack my neck. "Unless you'd like to tell me something Angelo forgot to mention?"

Frankie shakes his head frantically. "No, please, I told Marco everything-"

The crack of his jaw under my fist cuts him off. "That wasn't what I asked."

"There's nothing else!" Blood and spittle spray from his mouth. "I swear!"

"Then you're no use to me." I grab a fresh blade from the table. "Marco, hold him down."

Marco steps forward, pressing Frankie's shoulders into the chair. He doesn't even blink as I start working, methodically peeling back skin, muscle, watching blood pool beneath the chair.

"You know what fascinates me?" I dig the blade deeper. "How quiet people get when they realize it's over. When they accept there's no way out."

Frankie's screams turn to whimpers, then to wet gurgles. I take my time, making each cut count, each slice a message to anyone who thinks about crossing me.

"That's art," Marco comments as I step back, admiring my handiwork.

I clean my blade, studying the two corpses. "Drop them in Mantione territory. Somewhere they'll be found quickly."

"Want them together or separate?" Tony asks from the doorway.

"Separate. More impact that way." I roll down my sleeves. "Make sure they're face up. I want Sal to see exactly what happens to people who think they can play both sides."

"Got it, Boss." Marco starts wrapping the bodies. "Want us to leave a message?"

"The bodies are the message." I check my watch, thinking of Jazz waiting at home. "But slash their tongues. Remind them what happens to rats who talk."

Ray and Tony grab Frankie while Marco handles Angelo. None of them flinch at the gore or the wet sounds of dead weight being dragged across concrete. This is business, nothing more.

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