Page 18 of Blood Lust

“What was that?” Pietro asked as he motioned to the invite with his head.

“Invite to the wedding of Tawny Russo and Roman Prescott.” I grabbed a bottle of imported water from the small fridge under my desk.

“The cop?” Pietro asked.

“Yeah.” Roman was actually SWAT, but that was a technicality.

“Mmm,” he hummed. He knew what we’d helped with and that Roman still owed me. Roman wasn’t a dirty cop, but I kept his debt as an ace in the hole—just in case. One never knew when one might need to call in a favor.

Bruno arrived, followed shortly after by Vittorio, and he filled us in on everything that had gone on while we were gone. The last thing he told me had me grinding my molars.

“You know this without question?”

“Yes, Gabriel,” Bruno assured me.

“You have him?”

“Yes. In the waterfront warehouse.”

“Pietro, let’s go. We have something to take care of,” I announced.

Pietro and Bruno immediately protested.

“Boss, I’ll take care of this. You don’t need to go down there. Best you stay out of the actual resolution.”

Resolution. A nice way of saying the death of a traitor.

“I’m going, and I will handle this personally. People need to understand that just because I’m not my father or my grandfather, I will not tolerate being fucked over.” Though there would be no actual witnesses that I couldn’t trust explicitly, it would be an unspoken understanding. Because while one of the rules of being a member of the mafia was that you didn’t talk about the details of a murder, people would know that he disappeared, and they would know that I wasn’t ripping the city apart looking for him.

Bruno sighed as I strolled to the private elevator that went to the lobby and the underground parking garage. “This is a bad idea. You shouldn’t be handling these things yourself.”

“It is your job to advise me, Bruno, and for that, I thank you for your opinion. However, I have made up my mind.” My tone brooked no argument, and he frowned but wisely kept his mouth shut.

The three men followed me into the elevator and down to the garage. Bruno left, and the rest of us used my luxury SUV to drive to one of my properties where I kept a second, lesser vehicle. We didn’t get out until we were in the garage with thedoor shut. We switched vehicles once more at another location, then drove to the warehouse Bruno indicated.

Once inside, I straightened my sleeves and tie. Then we went to the center of the building. We used the warehouse for storage of our strictly legal merchandise to minimize the risk of law enforcement wanting to raid the place.

Above a large grate, Benito Avola sat tied to a metal folding chair. The fear in his eyes stirred the beast that dwelled within the blackest depths of my soul. The one that fed on fear and burned with an insatiable bloodlust. It warred with the lighter beast of my conscience—one I’d learned long ago to keep on a tight leash.

I grabbed one of the other chairs there and placed it backwards in front of Benito. Resting my arms on the back, I then settled my chin on them. Without saying a word, I stared at the now trembling man in front of me.

“Mr. De Luca, I-I-I didn’t say anything,” he blurted out. Inside, I grinned malevolently at the predictability with which he cracked in the silence.

“But you met with the detective in secret, did you not?” I calmly asked.

“Yes, but I saidniente—I told him nothing,” he replied.

“Hmm, see, that’s not what my associates told me. You know I have friends everywhere, and those friends told me that you told them I had gun parts coming in,” I casually explained.

“But I—”

“Save it,” I interrupted. “I despise liars. You have now cost me money because I had to delay that shipment and reroute it. I don’t like losing money.”

He gave a short whimper.

“But the worst part? You broke your oath. Do you remember what you were told when you gave that oath?”

“Th-th-that I would burn like the saint if I did,” he stammered.

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