Page 64 of Owned by the Italian Mafia Boss
“There was no one else in the car, but there are signs of foul play. There’s blood in the back.”
“Blood. There was blood,” I repeat, running my hands through my hair in panic. “I need my wife. I need my fucking wife!”
“What does she look like? Calm down. Breathe. Focus.”
“Don’t tell me to fucking focus.” I get in his face, debating if I want to put a bullet between his eyes. “You have no idea what this means. I will kill everyone in this city, including you, until I get her back.”
“Do not make threats, Carmine. I can arrest you right now.”
“Good luck with that.”
“Carmine! She’s close. Look.” Matias brings the tablet over, and I wipe my eyes clear of the tears.
I turn my attention to the tablet. The green dot is close to us. She could have climbed out of the car to try to flag down help. She’s on campus, just like Gianni said.
“Matias, you climb into the ambulance with Victor, so he isn’t alone. Ivar, you’re with me.” Without saying another word, I run to the car. Ivar is already in the passenger seat, and without another word, I step on the gas.
DiMartino jumps out of the way and heads to his cop car to follow me, but I don’t stop. Nothing will make me fucking stop. I listen to the beeps of the tablet. The quicker they become, the closer I know we are.
“It should be right up here. On the right,” Ivar points.
Sirens ring behind me, and DiMartino is on my ass.
“Get rid of him, Ivar.” I don’t want my plans derailed.
“Yes, sir.” Ivar rolls down the window and aims his gun out the window.
“Don’t kill him,” I warn. I won’t admit it, but I like DiMartino. He is an honorable man with strong values, but he understands my position in the city and doesn’t try to step on my toes.
Ivar fires the gunshot, ringing out. I check my side mirror and watch a tire blow. The car fishtails before jumping over the curb and slamming against a tree.
He’ll be fine.
As I take another turn, DiMartino disappears. An SUV appears up ahead, and I slow down. The college isn’t too busy due to exams, and I’m thankful. The fewer witnesses, the better. It would mean more people I need to kill. More bodies to dispose of.
II jump out of the car and hit the ground running, gun in hand. Ivar falls into step beside me.
“Where is she?” I yell at Ivar, looking around frantically.
“She’s here. She’s right here, boss. The tablet says she’s here.”
I spring to the SUV parked behind and look inside.
Empty.
“Well, she isn’t fucking here! Fuck!” I shout, slamming the butt of my gun against the window. The glass cracks. I keep surveying the area, searching for anything to tell me she’s okay, her voice, her cry, fucking anything.
I’m desperate.
“I don’t understand. It says she’s right here, Mr. Milazzo.”
I look behind Ivar and notice two black metal doors in the ground. A cellar. I sprint ahead and swing open the door, taking two steps at a time through the dark.
A man I have never seen before comes into view, and he is holding a needle. Without question, without hesitation, I lift my gun and pull the trigger, not giving him a chance to say a fucking word. His head snaps back, and he falls to the floor.
Dead.
I hurry down the steps and load my clip into the man for good measure until his face is unrecognizable. Blood is everywhere, and a whimper comes from my left.
