Page 10 of Mafia Queen

“Wh…wh…I don’t—”

I stuck my blade right into the flesh of his thigh. His screams echoed through the empty warehouse, the sound hollow as it slammed against the roof.

“Do not even try to lie to me, Mr. Watson. How many?”

Poor bastard sobbed like a little baby. Did I care? Fuck, no.

Between sobs, he managed to spit out, “I don’t know. I don’t know how many.”

“Take a wild guess, then.”

“Ten, maybe fifteen.”

“Wrong!” I planted my fist into his side where blood still oozed out. “Guess again.”

“Please…” he screamed. “Please, stop.”

“Guess. Again.”

“Twenty. Twenty girls.”

I slashed my bloodied blade through the back of his other thigh then pulled down, tearing through his flesh. The squeals of pain that escaped his throat like razor blades were like a fucking sonnet to my ears.

“Thirty-two, Mr. Watson. Thirty-two girls, that’s how many you traded and sold. Thirty-two girls whose lives you destroyed.”

“I’m sorry! I’m fucking sorry.”

“It’s too fucking late. It’s too fucking late for you to be sorry. You don’t have the luxury of being sorry.”

Cries. Screams. Grunts. Those were the only sounds that came from his mouth.

Lucio handed me a piece of fabric to clean my knife and wipe the fucker’s blood off my fingers. “But there’s one specific girl. One little girl who brought us together here tonight. Do you want to know her name?”

“Jesus Christ, please!”

“I’m afraid Jesus isn’t here to help you, James. And he isn’t going to be where you’re going either.”

“Please, stop. I’m sorry. God!”

I glanced at Lucio, the hardened look of hatred plastered all over his face like a mask. He might not agree with my vendetta, but he had a taste for spilling blood—especially when it was due.

With slow, confident strides, I moved toward James, tears mixed with snot dripping on the ground below him. “Ask me what her name was.”

“Who? Who are you talking about?”

“Guess.” God, I loved playing these games.

“Jesus. There were so many, how the fuck should I guess?”

My anger spiked, and I had to fight the urge to gut this fucker from navel to nose. “Think, James. A ten-year-old girl. Dark eyes, dark hair.” I licked my lips, my mouth dry. “A nobody.”

His green eyes cut toward me when the realization struck him hard and heavy. “Ne…Nessuno?” he whispered as if he couldn’t believe it.

Hearing that name irked me, it angered me, and it caused the blood in my veins to simmer, threatening to erupt. I pulled off my jacket and started to roll up the sleeves of my white dress shirt. “Her real name is Alessia Mancuso. I believe you made one fucked-up business transaction with her father, who wanted her to disappear.”

Terror and pain formed grooves on his forehead. And then his eyes grew wide as he started to freak out. “Oh no, no, no, no. No. You’re him, aren’t you? You’re the guy who stole her from him. You took her from him.”

“No, I didn’t.”

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