I trailed a finger between Cosimo’s shoulder blades. “I hope you do. I already miss your taste on my tongue.”
“Fuck,” he growled, spinning and pulling me to him by the back of my neck. “When we’re done here, I’m going to fuck you on this floor. Bury every inch of my cock in that tight pussy while you’re covered in blood.”
Desire shot straight to my core, and I clenched my thighs. I opened my mouth to reply, but Madden’s groan drew my attention. I glanced at Cosimo and grinned, then grabbed a knife from his table of torture tools. He turned on his classical music and leaned against the table to watch.
“The fuck?” Madden looked around, squinting out of one swollen eye. His men must not have taken care with him when they dumped him at the Neretti estate. They left him with a split brow and dried blood coating his temple. His good eye widened when I stopped before him, running my finger along the blade. “Black.”
“You don’t sound happy to see me, Madden,” I pouted, leaning forward and running the tip of the knife up his torso until he lifted his chin when it dug into the flesh on the underside of his jaw. “I, on the other hand, am so pleased to welcome you to my dungeon.”
Cosimo cleared his throat and arched a brow, so I rolled my eyes and added, “Our dungeon. Property is fifty-fifty when you’re married.”
“This is—”
“Deception,” I finished for him, watching him swallow hard. A trickle of blood ran down his neck, and I watched, mesmerized by how bright it was contrasting against his pale skin. “I told you it was real. I bet you believe me now.”
“I do,” Madden insisted. His eyes darted around desperately. “I know you don’t want to do this. You can still let me go.”
Cosimo chuckled behind me, his lips brushing against my neck. “Sounds familiar.”
“You didn’t let me go,” I reminded him.
“Never.” His teeth sank into my neck, and I shivered. “You’re endgame for me, diavola.”
When he said shit like that, it made me fucking possessive. I pivoted, grabbing his neck with my free hand, my nails digging in as I pulled him to my lips, biting hard. “Good. If you ever tried to get rid of me, I’d take you with me to the grave.”
Bloody half moons marked Cosimo’s throat when I let him go. It was time to get to work. I tapped the knife against my former boss’ chest. “I have a few questions, Madden.”
“Whatever you need,” he rushed, licking his thin lips.
“Tell me about the River Raiders,” I coaxed. “And what happened to Trey.”
“They’re fucking part of your husband’s family,” he spat, looking to the right. A lie, then. “And I don’t know what you mean about Trey.”
“Fine.” I cut a curved line across his peck, and he ground his teeth, hissing out a strangled groan. “We can do it the hard way if you want to lie. I found I have a bit of a blood kink. And you have plenty to play with.”
Madden growled as I cut a vertical line to the left of the first mark, forming the first letter. “Trey worked for the Nerettis.”
“On your order,” I prompted, making him whimper with the next letter.
“Yes,” he hissed. “The old Don was looking to work in skin and he needed a bureau contact.”
It was something I already knew. I didn’t think he would give me much new information, but the man deserved to suffer for his involvement. “And when did that turn into you forming the River Raiders?”
His head snapped up, his eyes filled with realization and rage. “Why the fuck am I here, Black?”
“To pay for your crimes,” I said sweetly. “Who else would dare hold you accountable, Madden? The men who are supposed to track down sick fucks like you are already on your payroll. Is the entire team in on it?”
“No.”
I let the knife drive a little deeper on the next letter, and he pressed his lips closed, tears running down his face. “Who else?”
“Harris.”
“He always was an asshole,” I murmured, the line going jagged when Madden twisted, trying to get away. “Stay still. You’re fucking up my art.”
“Want me to paralyze him?” Cosimo offered. “I’ve got the stuff to do it. He’ll feel everything, but won’t be able to move.”
“Maybe when he’s done talking.”