Page 72 of The Mafia Assassin's Redemption
Fuck me, it’s amazing, her inner and outer lips glistening, the redness of her arousaldeepening.
This is another strike against whatever it is that counts as my soul, using her like this, but right now, I’m finding it hard to care.
“Y-you’re just going to leave me here?” she rasps.
“Yep.” I lower my gaze to my computer, where Callahan is flinging instant messages at me like mini bombs.
Where the fuck are you?
Get your ass home.
The driver’s alive. Is your fucking bride?
Then Seamus joins the party.
Dude, a gunfight in the streets of Manhattan? Been there, done that. You’re late to the party.
Declan joins in.
Cal’s yelling at Seamus. Call when you decide to turn your phone on.
“Assholes.” I cut my eyes to Harry and she’s still glaring at me, her head bent a little toward me, but she’s still in position. “Not you, my brothers. Now, your asshole’s a pretty thing. I am going to take it. After all, I’m burning in hell, right?”
She growls, and I grin.
But the grin fades fast as I get back to my research.
Salvatore’s wife. There isn’t much about her. No one’s put together the church and Harry’s involvement, other than me. And I’m good at putting tiny fragments together and reading the big picture.
I go into the Dark Web next.
Salvatore claimed his wife’s dead, but that has to be acover-up for his ego. Pretend she’s gone to meet her maker and find a younger version to save face.
As I navigate around, I find nasty rumors about his brother and his wife, as well as others, swirling. Sounds like Lara was used as a plaything and Bernardo wasn’t nice with toys. It gives me another reason not to be bothered by the bullets I gifted him.
Besides, touching Harry was enough.
Abruptly, I stand up. “I’m getting a drink.”
I walk out with the laptop under my arm, ignoring her whimper. Once I’m in the lounge, I place the computer on the bar and grab a bottle.
I pour some Redbreast into a glass.
Does Salvatore know what Harry’s into? Does her priest? I’m thinking no on the first, and yes on the second, which begs the question… how deep into the mafia underworld is Luigi?
And is this a small or a huge network?
“Shit, Harry, you’re still that fierce kid with the gun, aren’t you?” I mutter.
I turn my attention back to the computer and come across something that turns my blood to ice. I gulp the booze, letting the fiery liquid heat the cold in me.
I look closer at the news story that the press put out about a senseless killing. At the time, they’d wondered if the ritualistic killing might be a serial killer.
The article is a few years old, but I see it for what it is. I’m guessing the priest in Colorado was nailed to a fucking cross because he was harboring a very big crime boss’s abused, trafficked slave.
She was found raped and murdered. And the priest… they didn’t just nail him to the cross. He’d been sodomized, gutted, and tortured. Someone had taken his eyes and tongue. And then put a bullet through his brain.
The Dark Web gives me more detail.
