Page 123 of Powerful Deception

He wants power.

He wants recognition.

And he will probably do anything to get it.

Like kill a detective that is looking into him. Or better yet, kill anybody he sees as a threat.

From day one, my gut told me that this man was slimy and conniving and yet I didn’t listen.

But I was so blinded in wanting to take Dante down that I didn’t see the warning signs that were in front of me the whole time.

I look over at Dante, inspecting the way that he is tied down, everything about it looking oddly familiar.

During my first meeting with Gallo, I told him how my father was killed. I told him that he was tied to a chair and beaten to death.

But I didn’t tell him how he was tied.

I didn’t tell him that he was tied with his legs apart and each tied to a leg of the chair.

I didn’t tell him that my father’s arms rested on the armrest, while all circulation was cut from his wrist.

I also didn’t tell him what he was tied down with.

I didn't tell him anything, and yet Dante is tied down the same way. Same position, with the same material, exactly the way that I found my father.

Those details weren’t publicized, so the only way one would know those details was if they were the one that did it.

Dante is telling the truth.

The man I feel in love with didn’t kill my father. It was Gallo.

“He wouldn’t lie to me.” I say, my voice small, my eyes never leaving Dante. “He’s telling the truth.”

At my words, Dante seems to let out a sigh of relief.

But that relief is short lived because soon I’m on the ground and with something heavy pressing me down.

Gallo’s foot and its pressing right in my injuries.

“Then you will die with him.”

* * *

There’s a lot shit me and Arianna have to work through. There’s a lot that both of us have to come clean about, but at this moment, none of that matters.

What matters is getting the fuck out of here alive and me putting a bullet in Gallo’s head for thinking he can get away with this.

What matters is making sure that Arianna doesn’t get buried next to her parents and my kids don’t have to become orphans.

I watch in fury as Gallo stops his foot onto Arianna’s back. From the way her scream pierces the air, she has something broken or dislocated.

If I was free, the bastard would have a few broken bones himself, but the fucker had to tie to a chair.

Whoever tied these fucking knots must have been a damn boy scout, because no matter what I do, they don’t budge.

“Let her go, Roberto. Your shit is with me, not with her.” I say as best as I can through the stinging I'm feeling in my chest.

My body has gone through a lot of shit in its life time to know when I have a collapsed lung. Trying to get us out of here is going to have to be expedited.

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