Page 8 of Hunting

“I…” I’m not sure how to explain it. I can’t tell him about my father’s mafia involvement. This man could be mafia too for all I know. And if he is, the likelihood that he works for the same family as my father is minimal at best. I’m saved from lying when the man continues talking as though I hadn’t tried to explain.

“Let me finish.” I wait. He quirks the corner of his mouth up again. “And the other four have obviously had the shit kicked out of them but refused to talk.”

I remain quiet. Fuck! Dad hasn’t been as discreet as we thought. Though I’m not sure why this guy cares. Unless he’s from one of the families. Shit. Russian maybe? He seems like a big asshole. Though he doesn’t have a hint of an accent. Not that that is a requirement. It’s more of an observation I have made.

We continue to argue for a few minutes. Him wanting me to explain the men’s injuries and disappearances, and me asking for information about himself. I’m trying to read his body language but it’s oddly statuesque. Like he doesn’t have emotions. It makes it impossible to read him.

We aren’t getting anywhere and I can’t, and won’t, reveal my true purpose with meeting with all of those men. I don’t know who this man works for. I’m still leaning towards the Russians, or a new gang looking to gain some territory. Obviously not Italian.

Suddenly I feel a prick on my neck. I spin on my heel. My body going lax involuntarily as I do so. Did I spin too fast? Did I make myself light headed?

A pair of arms wraps around my waist to hold me up. My body feels light but my muscles are responding as though they are held down with lead weights. The gun in my hand slips through my fingers. I barely hear it clatter to the ground. My ears are ringing. My vision blurring. I try to scream for my dad but no sound comes from my throat.

No, no, no. This can’t be happening.

“Easy sweetheart. Go to sleep. We’ll see each other again soon.” Whispers the gorgeous stranger.

Within moments, blackness engulfs me.

CHAPTER FOUR

Massimo

“GIVE IT Asecond.” I say with a laugh to Luca as we stand dressed in our Sunday best at the altar of church. It’s his wedding day. It’s three years earlier than he thought. It turns out Bosco had another daughter. One he didn’t know existed until recently. With her discovery, the contract Luca had with Milan became null and void. Elena, is Bosco’s firstborn, so the role of marrying Luca has fallen to her.

Not that it is a hardship. Luca fell in love with Elena the moment she held a gun to his head and kicked him in the nuts. Weird fucker.

He fell fast and hard. She was a bit slower to come around. She came to the city for two purposes. To get her mom a kidney. And to cross off each name on her list. Each one had wronged her or her family in some way.

Turns out, Elena’s mom, Violet, was Bosco’s high school sweetheart. They had married in secret at eighteen and got pregnant. Only Bosco never knew about the baby. His Uncle Santo had run Violet out of the city and sent a team of hit-men after them. He then told Bosco that she died in a car accident.

With the hit-men after Violet and Elena, they were forced to always be on the move. Never staying to plant roots anywhere.

This past week, Elena crossed the last name off her list. She has no reason to run anymore. Though that fact hasn’t stopped Luca from panicking.

Like now, Luca’s eyes are locked on his soon to be father-in-law’s lone figure at the end of the aisle. His bride is late. I don’t think Elena will run. In fact, I know she won’t. I think she is screwing with him. Getting him worked up for no reason.

Looking around the crowded church, I take a moment to appreciate the life we have built. The friends we have made. The loyalty we have gained. It wasn’t easy, even with Luca’s dad’s position. Honestly, Ricco being Underboss probably made things harder. We couldn’t get away with shit. All eyes were on us. We had to be better.

I get lost in the memories for a moment before I physically shake my head in an effort to clear up my thoughts. I should be focused on the present. On Luca and the security of his new bride. I should be buzzing with the excitement of my new position. Underboss. In no time at all, it will be mine.

Mine.

It’s a word that has popped into my head a few times in recent days. So little has been solely mine in life. My pain is also my father’s. My work is also Luca’s. My loyalty is also the family’s. What if anything is mine? My car is mine I guess.

Not sure how my mind goes from my car to the woman in the basement of the compound. She’s been there for two days and refuses to speak a word since waking up.

I’m out of my depth with her. I am an enforcer, an information gatherer. It’s my main purpose within the family, regardless of my position. It’s what I was born to do. No one is immune to my techniques. I have had years of practice getting even the most tight lipped man to talk. Sometimes those techniques get a little bloody. Few can stomach being in the room with me when I have a man in my chair or on my table.

I don’t blame them. In another life. If I was another man. Or wasn’t part of the family, I too might find it repulsive and sickening.

Problem I’m running into is, I’m not dealing with a man.

I’ve never tortured a woman and I don’t plan on starting now. Even if she does work for the enemy. I’ve kept my punishments minimal so far. I don’t want to cause her physical trauma, so I have stayed with psychological, and even those methods are tame. For now. The day is rapidly approaching when I’ll need to either up the ante or switch to physical methods.

Luca has sensed my hesitation with the woman. Though we are not blood brothers, we were raised with the same values. Woman and children are off limits. Elena, my friend’s bride-to-be does not possess the same reservations.

Elena’s high strung conviction takes some getting used to. Which is weird because I’m usually like that as well. Just not when it comes to this woman apparently. She has gotten under my skin. That has never happened before. I’m in unchartered territory and I don’t like it. I hate it. I can’t trust my gut, and I’ve always been able to do that. My gut is torn. It’s loyal to the family and wants to extract the secrets she holds, while another part of me wants to pull her from the dungeon, drag her to my bed and make her mine. I’ve even found myself hoping this is all a misunderstanding and that the next time I go down to see her she will explain how everything was just some strange coincidence and she has horrible taste in men.

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