Page 28 of Tortured Hearts
I glare at him, a little taken aback. I expected him todance around the accusation, not meet it head on. I don’t know what he’s playing at or why he’s so confident, but it adds a layer to this game I don’t like.
“You’re insane.” I rise to my feet to the sound of a gun cocking.
Fucking Anton.
Forget the fingers. I’m taking both hands with a serrated kitchen knife.
“And you’re stalling.” Marcello tuts. “What’s she worth to you? You have thirty seconds to decide.”
I only need one.
“Fine,” I grit out, lowering into my seat.It’s far from a white flag, more like a temporary bandage to control the bleeding from all the knives in my back. At least until I can buy enough time to find Becca and draw blood of my own. “So, now what?”
Abandoning his drink, he pulls a cigar from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “Now, we put on a show, and everyone gets what they deserve.”
Watching him bleed is no longer enough. I need to see him burn.
“So what does this demented family reunion of yours entail?”
“The first step is reaffirming your oath. Don’t worry about the details. I’ll arrange it all in a day or two.”
“Unfortunately, I’m going to need those details,” I tell him, straining to keep my voice even. “I’ve found your surprises leave a lot to be desired.”
“Yes, well,I’vefound your word to be unreliable.” He lifts a hissing blue flame to the end of the cigar, puffing until it catches fire. “As such, I’ll be keeping them to myself. I won’t let anotherputtanaget in my way.”
The delusion circulating throughhim could power a city.
“God complexes aren’t healthy. In fact, I’ve read they stem from low self-esteem and unresolved daddy issues.” I flash a lethal smile. “Is that it, Marcello? Did you not get hugged enough as a kid?”
He chuckles. “As entertaining as this has been, I have other things to do.”
“At three a.m.?”
“LaCosa Nostradoesn’t keep office hours, Giovanni.” Pinching the cigar between his fingers, he pulls it from his lips and points it at me. “Which reminds me, considering your tendency for stepping outside the lines of your oath, I’ve assigned Anton to keep an eye on you.”
“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”
“Your opinion doesn’t matter,” he says, another arrogant smile darkening his face. “Tomorrow, you’ll both go to Hackensack to visit a proprietor who has been less than appreciative of my generosity.”
Smart man. My father’s “generosity” comes with a wad of tangled strings. He swoops in with pretty words and shiny promises, but once that box opens, there’s no closing it. Extortion is the gift that keeps on giving.
“Well, youdotend to draw out the worst in people.”
“Something you found out firsthand.” Draining his glass, he slams it on the table. “Which is why you’ll show our friend how the Marchesi family handles disrespect.”
He’s so transparent it’s pathetic. This trip is nothing but a wall of smoke and mirrors.
“Are you sure about that? It didn’t end so well for you last time.”
His face tightens. “Please, keep challenging me, and see how that works out for you.”
Silence rages hard and deadly between us. There’s something more he’s hiding. Obviously, this wholeKumbayashit is a cover, but the song is out of tune. For a man sold out by his own son, his demands are too neat and tidy.Tootame. My father offers information on an IV drip. You’re never given the full story until the bag is empty.
So instead of playing into his hands, I force them.
“I’m not doing shit until I talk to Becca.”
“You act like I planned on keeping you apart. Actually, I’d very much like to see you reunited.” He settles that flat, arrogant stare on me. “Although, I suggest not attempting any white knight bullshit. I have cameras everywhere. One wrong move and she’s dead.”
