Page 96 of Bloody Vows
"No," I say simply. "You won't."
I pull out my gun, but before I can finish this, I need to know everything. "Where's Sal now? What's his next move?"
"I don't know," Enzo says quickly. "He doesn't tell me everything. He just said to convince Simone to come with me and to bring her to him."
"Where?" I snap. He shakes his head.
"I don't know! He was supposed to call me after I had her."
Three more teeth and two broken fingers later, I decide he’s telling the truth. He stinks of piss and blood and fear, and I can see the desperation in his eyes, the desire to have something to tell me. He has nothing, or I’d have it by now.
"What about his other men? How many does he have?"
Enzo is crying in earnest now, a man who realizes he’s going to die and is only suffering until then. “A dozen,” he sobs. “Maybe more. He has some of her father’s old men, the ones that survived. Maybe some new ones.”
I pause, clicking the pliers together, and he shudders. "And his base of operations?"
“He moves around!” Enzo blurts it out, as if information can save him now. "Different safe houses, different locations. I never know where he's going to be until he calls."
I'm not getting anything useful from him. Enzo was exactly what I thought he was—a small-time wannabe who got in over his head. Simone’s father chose him because he was malleable, someone who could be molded into exactly what he wanted him to be. Sal took advantage of that and did the same.
"Any last words?" I ask, raising my gun.
“Please—” he starts to beg, and I pull the trigger.
Enzo slumps in the chair, dead. Blood pools beneath him, spreading across the tarp on the concrete floor.
One problem down. One to go.
I'm holstering my gun when I hear slow, deliberate clapping from the shadows near the warehouse entrance. My men immediately raise their weapons, but I hold up a hand to stop them.
"Very impressive," a voice says, and Sal Envio steps into the light. He's alone, hands visible, wearing an expensive suit that's perfectly pressed despite the late hour. Two of my men are behind him, guns pointed at the back of his head.
“Sal.” My voice is flat, unimpressed. "I wasn't expecting you."
"I'm sure you weren't." He looks at Enzo's body with mild interest. "I can't say I'm surprised. Poor Enzo was always more enthusiastic than intelligent."
"What do you want? You’re going to be in that chair next,” I growl. “So if you want to say something, spit it out while you still have a tongue.”
Sal smirks. “I assume you figured it out, or got enough out of Enzo. That I never planned to raise him up. He was a tool. A useful way to get Simone to my side so that I could get rid of you, marry her, and take what should have been mine.”
“Except you failed.” I smile coldly at him. “And now you’re going to die too. Slowly.”
Sal shakes his head. “No, I’m not.”
There's something in his tone that sets my teeth on edge. Too calm, too satisfied. Like he's got a secret he's dying to share.
"Get to the point, Sal."
“I have your wife. And if I don’t walk out of here, she dies.”
Cold dread settles in my stomach, spreading through my veins like ice. "What are you talking about?"
Sal’s smile is purely satisfied, his eyes gleaming as if this is all a game to him. “It’s amazing what technology can do thesedays. Easy enough to get a clip of your voice, to get a recording saying that you were being held hostage. That I’d rescued Enzo and taken you prisoner, that she needed to come alone to save you. That I’d let you both go as long as she signed over some of her father’s accounts to me.”
I stare at him, before barking out a short laugh. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.” Sal shakes his head. “She did exactly as ‘you’ asked. And now she’s inmyhands.”
