Just as I stepped up to the estate, Bruno barreled over.
“Dude, where the fuck were you?We have another fucking problem!”
I narrowed my eyes.“What?”
“Just come with me, andiamo!”
***
IWALKED INTO THE BASEMENTto the sound of someone crying out — a high, desperate screech.In the center of the room a man was chained up, his clothes ripped to pieces.I stepped closer to get a better look and recognized him immediately.
Igor Kuznetsov.
“Ragazzi, just stop!”I laughed, watching him crumble in front of me.I walked up and planted my hands on my hips as he slowly looked up, beaten and tired.“A real wise guy, huh?”
“Wise guy my ass,” Bruno growled.“I don’t give a fuck who this motherfucker is.Ask him why he’s here today.”
I glanced over at Bruno, saw his anger flare, and knew this bastard had done something to piss me off.I locked my eyes back on Igor.A small, ugly smile tore across his slit lips.
“Privet, Alessandro.Nice to finally meet you,” he croaked, sarcasm and a thick Russian drawl both present.
Igor was Russian mafia — connected to Vicenzou’s old business.Vicenzou’s family had had dealings with Igor’s, and like the dickhead Vicenzou is, he’d left unfinished business that he’d dumped on me.I’d met Igor at events and clubs before, but I never associated with him.I didn’t want to.
He sighed and dropped his shoulders.Sweat soaked his face; his clothes were ruined.Cuts and gashes marred his skin — one cut over his eyebrow had torn flesh exposed.
“Likewise,” I said flat.“What the fuck are you doing here?”
“Quite frankly, I have no fucking idea,” Igor chortled, then sighed.“Ask your suki.”
I moved away from the dickface and pulled the boys aside, away from his ears.“What’s going on?”I asked.
“One of our batches was on its way to Mexico,” Bruno said, looking at Igor with disgust.“Before it got there, this bastard got his hands on it and ruined the whole shipment.Alessandro — you’ve lost millions, and a number of our men.”
My jaw dropped.I stared at Bruno.This had happened again.I couldn’t sit back and pretend it wouldn’t happen again.My eyes narrowed on Igor, who smirked as if he’d already won.I surged forward, but Salvatore stopped me.
“He’s never broken the omertà,” Salvatore said.“So there’s no point.”
“I don’t give a flying fuck,” I snapped.“He’s going to speak, or tonight we release a body.”
“Alessandro, there’s more,” Salvatore cut in, and each interruption spiked my frustration.“What?”
“Igor previously worked for D’Angelo.”Salvatore whispered it, and my jaw clenched.That motherfucker — of course this tied back to him.
I lunged back at Igor and continued the torture.His screams filled the room while I watched him crumble and laughed, because the self-proclaimed wise man had been exposed.“You lost something valuable to me, so you’ll compensate,” I told him, watching the chain pull at his skin.
He laughed and shook his head, babbling his usual arrogance.I cut him off.
“You’ve lost nothing, you selfish prick,” he chuckled.“You were just being generous to me.”
“Generosity,” I said coldly.“To compensate, you give up omertà.”
His face fell.He shook his head violently.“I can’t do that,” he stammered.
“Yes you can, and you will.Or I’ll torture you more.”I grabbed the mini vice and shoved one of his fingers into it.I twisted.He screamed, a raw, animal sound.“You might as well speak now, Igor, or you’ll lose all your damn fingers,” I laughed.At that point I briefly wondered if I’d gone sane or if the room itself had gone mad.
“No...!”Igor cried.“I can’t...do that...”
“Why?”I paused, watching his face.“Who gave you the order?”
