Page 22 of Sinful Honor

“That you’re all fucking nuts, and I just signed my death certificate.”

Vincenzo nodded. “You’re probably right. There will be a lot of guys challenging your credibility and your commitment to the family.”

“I know.”

“I’ll do what I can, but you need to be careful.”

“I know, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

He nodded. “Say hello to home for me.”

I nodded.

I was going home to Italy.

I just hoped I survived long enough to take my mother into my arms.

CHAPTERSIX

Having my arm cut off couldn’t be as bad as this.

I was back in my cage, a heavy metal ring chaining my feet together, and my whole body was on fire.

I was burning up, and at the same time, I was incredibly cold.

I wanted to die—something I never thought I would even think.

I couldn’t believe I always complained about being locked in a golden cage—courtesy of being born into the Irish mob.

Truthfully, I had no clue about the true meaning of being caged.

Of having no way to escape.

Of pain.

I lay on my side in the cage—the only spot on my skin that wasn’t in excruciating pain.

When they had come to get me, I’d hoped I could reason with them.

But I was wrong.

There was no reasoning.

No bargaining.

No escape.

“This is your life now. Learn your new place. And enjoy.”

The Ape’s voice echoed through my mind.

I never thought losing my consciousness was a blessing.

Until now.

Until this.

This was a death sentence.

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