Page 64 of Lorenzo's Claim

“They told me they’d hurt her if I didn’t cooperate. They promised if I just let them go, she’d be safe,” he whimpered.

“And you’re sure of that, are you? You’re sure they haven’t harmed a fucking hair on her head?!” I was past angry, my blood boiling at the thought of Ana being hurt in any way.

He sniffled. “They promised.”

The prick was a mess, a mixture of blood, sweat, tears, and who knows what else.

“Oh, they promised, did they?” I growled. “Well, that’s alright then, as long as they promised.” I removed my blade from his shoulder, sinking it into his stomach next. “Are you that stupid?”

“I’m sorry. I—” He yelped, the pain radiating through him. “I l-looped the footage to make it look as though she dodged the cameras or as if she never came home.”

“And her stuff?!” I asked, unable to remain calm at what he was telling me.

“They took it all. Made it seem like she upped and left.”

Images of three masked bastards in my wife’s room, touching every single one of her belongings played in my mind. The thought of killing each one of them spurred me on.

“Red, hand me that cigar cutter,” I demanded, holding out my hand to Red as he placed the cutter into my palm. “You betrayed me, Kip.” I slid the cutter down his pinky finger. Right down to the second knuckle as I clamped them just enough to bite into his skin. “You let them take what’s mine.”

“I’m s-sorry, Boss,” he sobbed. “I’m so sorry.” His eyes filled with more tears, but I had no sympathy, no guilt. I felt nothing.

“Tell me everything. Every word of every single conversation. I want every detail,” I ordered.

“I don’t remember.” His voice trailed off as blood seeped out of him.

I clamped the cutter down on his finger, slicing it off before he could anticipate it happening. “Every single time you don’t remember, you’ll lose a finger, and then I’ll move onto toes. So I suggest you think hard.”

“Please, don’t… I can’t remember every detail. Please,” he pleaded.

“Losing fingers and toes doesn’t seem to be motivating you as much as I expected.” I pondered before knowing what to do. “Red, you continue cutting one by one.” I handed Red the bloody cutter as he stepped towards Kip with a sinister smile.

I retrieved the blowtorch from Finn’s hand. He held it like he already knew what I had in mind. It flicked to life in my hand as I admired Red cutting off Kip’s third finger, his screams piercing through me.

“I don’t think he’s going to take all ten.” Red mutteredbefore cutting off the fourth finger, leaving just the thumb left on Kip’s right hand.

“O-one had a s-snake tattoo on his n-neck,” he panted through the pain, only just managing to get his words out. “It was burned o-off.”

“And the others?” I asked, trailing the flame over his forearm as the flame deliciously licked his skin.

“Fuck!” He screamed through the pain. “I d-don’t know. N-nothing was v-visible,” he said, trembling through ragged breaths.

“Where is she, Kip?” I asked, giving him one last chance.

“I d-don’t know. T-they didn’t g-give any information on t-that.”

“Then it looks like I have no use for you.” I threw the torch to the floor, pressing my blade to his neck. “You should have paid more attention.”

I was about to slice his neck clean open when my phone vibrated in my pocket. “Red, keep cutting until I see who is interrupting.”

Pulling it from my pocket, I swiped open the message from an unknown number. I read them, and they were enough to send me over the edge.

Ah, Lorenzo Ricci, it looks as though you now know your wife didn’t leave you. But maybe it’s a blessing in disguise that she’s no longer yours since you never truly wanted her anyway.

Another message appeared on the screen, but this time there were no words. It was an image. An image of my wife.

Bloody, beaten, and bruised.

Her hair hung around her, limp and matted with blood. Her wrists were bound so tightly, I could see the damage on her skin. Her lip was split in two places, and her eyes were barely open.

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