“No.”
“No?” I set the skewer down and put my hands on my hips. “What are Vincenzo’s plans for Dutch?”
“I can’t, he’ll kill me,” he groans, his eyes fluttering closed.
I clap my hands sharply, forcing him to open his eyes. “Vincenzo isn’t here right now. I am. Earlier you made a joke about me being a myth. Tell me, what stories have you heard? Because I can assure you, they’re all true. If Vincenzo walks down those stairs right now, he’ll be pinned up right alongside you. Don’t worry about him, worry about me.”
He swallows and turns away. This is the big bad Cesare Gianelli everyone is afraid of? Tear a few nails off and he’s broken? What a fucking joke.
I’m done playing around, I can’t take the chance of Vincenzo coming down here. Picking up the skewer, I grab his dick and slide it into the urethra. His shoulders bow off the wall as he screams, tears streaming down his cheeks. I press it farther in, then farther still until he’s a weeping mess of snot and tears.
“Tell me!” I shout. “Or my next move is to grab the hammer and force this all the way into you.”
“Okay!” he howls. “Take it out and I’ll tell you.”
Pussy. I would have lasted at least another forty-eight hours.
I yank the skewer out, making Cesare’s eyes bug out and his mouth open on a silent scream. I narrow my eyes, waiting impatiently while he takes a couple of deep breaths.
“He’s going to marry her and use me as a sperm donor to have more children, ones worthy of the Gianelli name.”
I blow the breath out of my cheeks, stunned by this information. The bastard is even sicker than I had realized. “And the purchase?”
His head drops to his chest. His fists clench, and I realize he’s not yet ready to tell me everything. Fair enough.
Twenty minutes later, he’s done talking. It took me peeling the skin off both his legs for him to finally talk.
The purchase Vincenzo’s made? A fucking fortress. Just north of the city, located on two acres of land, sits a modern-looking house surrounded by ten-foot walls. There are three levels underground that he’ll use for various things, including new cells for his harem, an extensive killing room, and an elaborate prison for Daniella once she’s forced to marry him.
As for the Martinellis, the only plan Cesare knows about is to remove Ricardo as the head, install his eldest son, and force him to marry one of Vincenzo’s nieces in order to cement an alliance. It would give him a way to take it over in the future.
I pat Cesare gently on the chest. “Thank you, you’ve been most helpful. Although I’m disappointed you broke so fast, it’s for the best.” Flipping the skewer between my fingers, I meet his eyes, then slam it into his ear. His eardrum bursts and his screams are brutal. I push farther, jamming it into his inner ear, then jump to the side as he vomits everywhere. He’s now deaf and will suffer from extreme vertigo.
Cesare weaves on the chains, the only thing holding him up. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, the pain too incredible to bear. He vomits again and again until nothing but bile is expelled.
Knowing my time has to be almost up, I grab a knife and sever his tongue, tossing it onto the surgical table before slicing through his vas deferens, making sure Vincenzo can’t use him as a sperm donor.
Not that Cesare will live long enough to be one. Just the infection alone from me puncturing his inner ear will cause a slow and hideously painful death, let alone any other infections from his tongue and makeshift vasectomy.
Yes, I’m leaving him alive. It’ll distract Vincenzo for a few days, hopefully giving Dutch and her team more time to do whatever it is they’re doing. Then there will be a funeral to arrange—he’s going to be a busy boy the next week or two.
It will give me some extra time as well to do what I can to help from the inside.
Fishing for the keys in Cesare’s pocket, I open the bathroom door and relieve myself on a proper toilet for the first time in days. Wrinkling my nose at the moldy scent on the hand towel, I use it anyway, cleansing myself of any blood and vomit.
Then I let myself back into the cell, locking the door behind me. I remove the small Swiss army knife from the keychain, hiding it under the mattress, then toss the keys through the cell, so that they land at Cesare’s feet.
A few of the other women watch me, some with hope, others in fear. Offering them a lopsided smile, I sit down on the ground, fold my legs, and hang my head.
The perfect picture of defeat.
Chapter 54
Dutch
Aspredicted,Treyislike a wounded animal, snapping at everyone and shouting at us to hurry up. It doesn't matter how many times Rebecca tells him she’s fine, he won’t listen until a doctor clears her.
We’re milling around the vans, getting weapons stashed away and everyone loaded in while Ryan places a call to his clean-up crew, who will take care of the bodies and have the house looking like new by the end of the week. It’s a shame he’ll have to sell it now that it’s burned.
