Page 100 of Violent God

“You’re a dead man if you don’t,” Hector points out. He shakes his head. “Fuck. This is déjà vu.”

He’s not wrong. We’ve definitely had this conversation with prisoners in the past.

Bass finally nods. “I’ll tell you what I know.”

He starts from the beginning, which is similar to the tale Caruso told us. Smith met Gia Caruso in London. They hooked up. She blackmailed him. He was introduced to Bass. This is where Bass’ story varies a bit from Caruso’s.

“Smith knew about my daughter’s inheritance. I don’t know how, but he did. He also knew about my…money issues. He said that it could all go away, but I had to help him. He said that we needed a pawn. Someone who wasn’t too bright and could marry Isabetta, gaining control of her money.” He pales. “After the money was secure, Smith said he would have both Isabetta and Giosuè killed.”

My fist clenches at my side, but I nod for him to continue.

“Once they were out of the way, I would get a spot in The Defiant God Brotherhood.”

“And where was Isa’s money going?”

“To Smith. He said he needed it to fund a war against those in the Brotherhood who didn’t have the same views as him. He mentioned that he tried to use his wife’s money, but that she had a good portion of it locked up in various trusts that he couldn’t get his hands on. He said when she was dead, he could pay me back the money he borrowed with interest.”

I stand, unable to sit any longer.

“It’s funny how you speak about the money like it’s yours. We established earlier that the money was never yours, Bass.” I smile down at him. “But thank you for being honest. I’ll take it into consideration before I kill you.”

I motion for Hector to come near. He carries a black duffel bag filled with…tools of the trade.

He unzips it and asks, “What do you want first, Boss?”

Bass’ eyes widen when he sees the contents of the bag and he jerks in the chair. But he’s not going anywhere. Not until I’m good and done with him.

“Let’s start with the mallet. I’d like to show Bass what Isa felt when he broke her wrist.” I turn to Bass. “This is going to hurt,amico. It’s going to hurt a lot.”

Three hours later, Brooks, Hector, and I emerge from the room. Malik Jafar’s second in command, Razoul, waits for us with a cleaning crew.

“Jafar is waiting at the hotel. He’d like to speak with you.”

I shake his hand. “A pleasure working with you, Razoul.”

He grins. “The pleasure is all mine.” He pauses. “Eyeball golf, huh? Might have to remember that in the future.”

We leave the warehouse behind, heading to the hotel owned by Malik Jafar. Inside, we’re taken to the second floor where his office is located. He’s sitting behind his desk, phone to his ear. He motions for us to wait, so I take the time to look around. Being in the Mafia is like being in a secret society in some ways.

Jafar is one of those members who’s been in the game nearly as long as me. Two things stand out about him. One, he wears a gold band on his wedding finger. Two, there’s a framed photo on his desk. His family. He and his wife, Ellie, sit side by side. There are two boys and two girls in the photo. They all look so fucking happy, and it pulls something deep in my chest.

I want that.

I want Isa at my side while we’re surrounded by our kids.

Jafar ends the call and says, “Sorry about that. I take it your business is finished?”

“It is. Thank you.”

He snorts. “I’ve already spoken to Razoul. Eyeball golf? I must admit, I’ve never heard that one.”

Brooks answers, “What can we say? We like to keep things interesting.”

“I have to ask. Is that a Moretti Mafia thing or a Brotherhood thing?”

Brooks makes the motion of zipping his lips, and Jafar laughs.

“Fair enough. Now, is there anything else you need from me?”

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