“Ah, Nico. The boss’s new favorite puppet,” he mocked, his gold teeth glinting. “Tell me, mafia king. Are the stringstoo tight?”
Taking a deliberate step forward, I drove my foot forward, my heavy boot connecting with his face, the satisfying crunch of bone echoing in the room.
“Fuck!” he bellowed. “You broke my fucking nose!”
“I’m going to break a lot more if you keep running your mouth.” I knelt down, holding my gun so it dangled between my legs. “Tell me where I can find your boss.”
The idiot laughed. “What are you going to do? Torture me until I talk?”
I cocked my head slightly, studying him.
“You don’t scare me. So, go ahead, do your worst. But you ain’t getting nothing out of me!” He reared back, a flash of disdain crossing his face, and unleashed bloody phlegm that landed on my jacket.
“Motherfucker,” Matteo growled, taking a step forward. I shot my arm out, blocking his path.
I stared at the crimson stain on my jacket, then snapped my gaze back to the piece of shit on the ground. As our eyes met, terror and surprise flashed across his features. He began to scurry backward, his hands and feet scraping against the carpet. I lunged and clamped my hand around his ankle, my grip like a vice. A pained yelp escaped his lips as I applied pressure.
“You haven’t seen a fraction of what I’m capable of,” I spat. “If I don’t get what I want, I’ll go after the people you care about most. Let’s start with your sister. She’s due anytime now, right?”
The blood drained from his face.
I smiled in triumph. Luca had looked into this asshole and given me enough juice to use against him.
“Now that I have your attention, tell me what I need to know.”
“I never know where he is,” he said. “He just sends me coordinates for where to pick up the shipments.”
Shipments. As in the cargo that held innocent woman. I shook my head in disgust.
“Give me your phone,” I demanded.
“You won’t be able to track it. Not even the best hacker can find him. He’s that good.”
My jaw clicked. We were right back at square one, and my patience was slipping away.
“I’m going to show you a picture of someone. I want you to tell me if you’ve seen her.” I yanked my phone from my pocket and thrust it in his direction. A picture of Gigi filled the screen.
The man stared at the photo and shifted his gaze back at me. “Maybe,” he simply said, his expression unreadable. I clenched my phone tightly, my fingers threatening to shatter the screen from the pressure.
The fucker knew something. I could taste it.
“Where is she?” I bellowed, stepping closer until the end of the gun was touching his forehead.
The man cackled like a maniac, the panic from earlier long gone. “You’ll never find him because he’s a ghost. And you’ll never findher.”
I squeezed the trigger with every ounce of anger built up inside me, watching the bullet pierce through his kneecap as he screamed.
“If she isn’t dead already, she will be,” he sputtered in agony.
He writhed on the ground.
“The Puppet Master doesn’t have feelings,” he breathed heavily. “He won't… hesitate to…kill her. He enjoys... playing with his toys,” he gasped, blood spilling from his lips as he struggled to speak. “He will... make her suffer in ways that…will make her wish she were dead.”
My fingers tightened around the trigger.
“First, he’ll torture her,” he continued.
My right eye twitched.
