Page 32 of Stolen Bride
“Marriage looks good on you, Son,” my father teases, handing me a glass of whiskey. “Gabe told us about Vito. Weknow he was more than just a soldier; he was a good man and husband. Fucking Rocco is going to pay for his betrayal.” I’d known Vito for ten years, and this is my failure to stay strong and rule with an iron fist like I always had.
“Yes, he is. I can’t believe he’d risk it all for that slut.”
“What do you mean?”
“Camille Jones. She was deep-throating his cock in my club, and I kicked her out about a month ago. He played me and said she drugged him. Tests said he was dosed with MDMA, so I bought his bit and gave the fucker a second chance, but the bastard was probably using. I didn’t get the doctor to run a test to see if he’s a habitual user. Hell, I don’t know if there is a test for that shit.”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
“I’m getting too damn soft. No more weakness.” My mind goes to my wife who had turned me soft. Yes, this happened before I met her, but if I hadn’t been so damn involved with her today, Vito wouldn’t have been alone with Rocco in the middle of nowhere with no damn help.
My father’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say a word. “Let’s have a chat with your guest. I’m sure he’s pissed his pants by now.”
“And then some. Who’s had eyes on him all day?”
“Benz and Michael,” Adriano says.
“Okay, let’s greet him.” We all head to the basement, and Benz nods from the top of the stairwell.
“He’s passed out. It reeks in there, just so you know. Like foul as fuck, so I’ve kept my distance.”
“Where’s Michael?”
“He went to take a break ten minutes ago. Should be back in five.” He folds his nose, and I don’t doubt him because the smell has already permeated the outer room. It’s going to be a pain in the ass to clean up.
I push open the door, slamming it against the wall, but the fucker doesn’t bother to lift his head, which hangs down to his chest. “Tommy, boy. Look at me, you asshole.” I storm over to the bastard, a sinking feeling in my stomach. I lift his head, and the fucker’s eyes have rolled back in his head.
“Merda.”
“He’s dead,” my father sighs.
I check the fucker’s pulse, and the prick is cold. “He’s been dead for a while. Get Benz in here now.” He comes into the room with his hand over his mouth. “What the fuck happened here?”
“What do you mean?” He starts gagging from the smell.
“This bastard is dead.”
“Son of a bitch,” he barks out. “Can we go in the hall?” The color on his face changes, and both my father and I move just in time to miss Benz vomiting. He’s been in the family about two years, and I don’t think he’s ever seen a dead body before. He handles surveillance on the cameras.
“Get your shit together and meet us in the security room.” I head in there with Gabe, Adriano, and my dad following me while Benz washes his face in the basin just ten feet from the cellar holding room.
“Fucking pussy.”
“Pull up the feeds from the time Michael went on his supposed break.” Gabe takes a seat and goes to work. It’s not long before his taillights are seen leaving. “Break, my ass.”
“Another traitor.”
“Cue up the cell.”
“Hello, Tommy Baker, it’s good to see you again. I’ve waited a long time to see your fucking ugly mug.” Michael walks up to him.
“Who are you?”
“Oh, you don’t remember me? I was a lot younger then, and you weren’t the big piece of shit you are now. Well, maybe you remember my sister…” Michael pulls out a picture and then Tommy flinches backward, nearly sending his chair backward. “I’ve wanted to end your miserable life for twenty years, but that’s the boss’s pleasure. God, I want to rip you limb from limb and enjoy it. You ruined her, destroyed her. Now I got you here, and I’m going to have a little fun before Mr. Valentino has his way with you for trying to steal his bride.”
“Steal his bride? She was mine. He’s a pussy.”
“A pussy? He’s the devil.”