Page 161 of Dangerous King
"I will," I promise. "By the time I'm done with you, I'll knoweverything."
His gaze flicks up to mine. "Kingsley needed to die. That bill? It threatens everything."
That gets my attention.
Kingsley's legislation—an anti-trafficking, anti-child exploitation bill—will cut La Famiglia's darkest operations at the root. It's the first real threat in years. And while I want that filth purged from our business, there are others who see it differently.
"Who are you working for?" I demand.
Igor smirks. "Follow the money."
I lower the torch closer. His skin starts to sweat harder. Still, he doesn't scream. "Give me a name."
"No." His eyes gleam. "But be prepared for the storm, Enrico Sartori. It's already on its way. And you? You won't see it coming."
I narrow my eyes, the hiss of the flame loud between us as it licks over his pant legs, catching fire. The scent of burning clothes and flesh fills the air. Sweat rolls in beads off his neck, but he's still smiling. Tough bastard. "What storm?"
"There are things inside La Famiglia even you wouldn't believe. Secrets buried so deep, they've grown roots." His grin widens. "Some old vines, they don't rot… they choke."
My jaw tightens. "Edoardo? Roberto?"
That makes him laugh.
"You think you're so clever," I sneer. "Dropping riddles while I peel your skin off."
His voice drops to a near whisper. "You think this is just about Kingsley. About the bill." He chuckles darkly. "The contract came straight through Omertà Infernale."
I stiffen. "Who runs it?"
Igor's laugh turns sharp. Unhinged. "You should really look deeper into La Famiglia, Sartori. Because the ghost you're hunting? Might be a lot closer than you think."
I kill the torch, letting the sudden silence stretch.
I lean in, my mouth near his ear.
"Let me give you a riddle of my own," I whisper. "How long does it take a man to scream before he wishes he'd died quietly?"
Igor swallows, but his smile doesn't falter.
I straighten and nod to Silvano.
"Let's find out."
Igor's face turns solemn. "Tell your sister she's a rare gem, and I'm proud that it was her who brought me down."
I narrow my eyes. I'm missing something here. The bastard winks at me, his grin widens, and then he clenches his jaw with brutal force.
"Shit. Silvano!" I bark, lunging forward.
But it's too late. Igor's eyes bulge. A shudder runs through his frame. He lets out a wet, choking sound, then foams at the mouth before his body simply collapses.
"NO—"
I try to pry his mouth open, but he's already seizing, skin turning waxy pale, breath rattling. Silvano's at my side, too late, fingers at the bastard's throat. "Pulse is dropping… He's gone."
I stagger back, torch still in hand. A cyanide capsule. Hidden in a back molar. The old KGB fail-safe.
Igor Pavlov.
