Page 105 of Brutal Devil
Carlo cries out and pisses in his pants.
“You took too long answering,” Saint says calmly. “Next time, say it faster, Carlo.”
“Okay, okay,” Carlo blubbers. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Just leave my mother out of this…”
By the time I get back to the penthouse, it’s almost time for dinner. I washed up at the warehouse after my men took care of Carlo, and I changed into a spare set of clothing. Roc lets me off at my private elevator that’s currently flanked by two armed guards.
I hope Luna didn’t get into any shit while I was gone. Scorpion’s timing with the lead on what happened to Antonio left a little something to be desired. I had hoped to help ease Luna back into life at the penthouse.
To keep an eye on her.
There’s not a whole lot of trouble she can get into here, aside from tearing apart my furniture and breaking dishes. The windows are all locked and sealed, and with guards posted at allthe doors and twenty-four-hour surveillance, she can’t escape. Still, part of me wanted to see her reaction firsthand when she walked into the office I spent all night building her for the first time.
A stupid part of me.
A part of me that has no business existing.
Evidence: what just happened today. I tortured a man. And yes, it was for a good reason. Carlo’s revelations put us in a whole different place than we were yesterday. A far more powerful place. We learned more than I ever expected, and the knowledge is heavy and dark, weighing down on me. Amedeo the Animal’s days on this earth are numbered.
Very fucking numbered.
I nod at the guards as I pass into the elevator. The doors glide closed, and then I’m rushing upward, getting closer to Luna by the second.
I’m not to the top yet when my phone rings.
I pull it out and see Amedeo’s name on the screen.
That didn’t take very fucking long.
I answer the call. “Revello.”
“Don Andriani,” he says in a tone of respect that still manages to sound snide.
“I’m just about to have dinner with my lovely wife,” I lie. “What can I do for you? Make it quick.”
“One of my soldiers disappeared last night,” he says, not wasting any time. “He got picked up at a club on the south side. You know anything about that?”
The elevator reaches the top floor and halts.
“You think I pay attention to your soldiers, Revello?” I bite out a dark laugh. “If so, you’ve got a severe misconception about how I spend my valuable time.”
“That’s what I told my guys,” Amedeo says. “But see, they swear they saw Carlo getting forced into a car by two of yourbrothers. I told them that doesn’t make any sense. Why would Don Andriani want one of our own soldiers?”
The elevator slides open, and I step into the hall, where another pair of armed guards is at the door to my penthouse, making sure that no one goes in or comes out without my permission. I stay where I am, out of earshot, needing to let this phone conversation run its course. Right now, Amedeo is playing me. Trying to see how much he can get me to admit I know without revealing how much information he already has.
“You’re right,” I agree smoothly. “It doesn’t make any sense at all. Look, I’ll put in a call to my brothers and see if there’s something I should be made aware of.”
There’s a pause on the other end.
“Thank you, Don Andriani,” Amedeo says finally, his voice stiff.
He’s holding back.
Good. I’m not ready to show my hand yet. I’ve got other plans.
“Any time, Revello. I assume you heard from Saint about dinner tomorrow night?”
“At Lucchese. Yes.”
