Page 65 of A Seed Of Peril
“I ain’t giving you shit,” Nico seethed.
“Not even to save those two women you seem to care so much about?” Dominic challenged.
“Women are off-limits; you said so yourselves. Your fucking family has prided themselves on that.”
Balancing his waning cigarette between his lips, Dominic removed his phone from the inside breast pocket of his jacket, pulling up a video and showing Nico. I moved in for a better view.
It was a video of Mrs. Nasuti bringing bags of groceries into their home. The time and date in the corner showed it was from a handful of hours ago.
For people with their kind of money, learning they lived in such an average-looking house in their neighborhood was a surprise. Then again, not everyone flaunted their wealth. I was honestly a tad envious. I loved my new home and all its luxuries, but I had days where I mourned the simpler life. Well, simpler in regard to involvement in the mafia.
Nico was expressionless.
“If you ever want to see them again,” Dominic began, inhaling another nicotine hit, “you need to start talking. I don’t hand out mercy without getting something in return.”
Nico scoffed. “They’re dead, regardless. I know how this works.”
Dominic shook his head, lowering it as he put out his cigarette with his fingertips. After tossing it, he slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket and stepped away from Nico, walking over to the table of torture tools.
“Dominic Rosini doesn’t give anyonemercy, so just fucking do it already. Shoot me, stab me, gut me; I don’t give a fuck.”
“Those are too easy,” Dominic said. Gathering something off the table, he turned around to make his way back over, something small and shiny in his hand.
“What is that?” I asked him.
As he drew closer, what he held became more visible—thin needles. Longer than a sewing needle but shorter than one found in a syringe. Taking my right hand, he placed all but two of the needles on my palm and then closed my fingers around them before guiding me closer to Nico.
Apparently, I was volunteered to assist.
Dominic stood to Nico’s left, holding one of the needles between his teeth, and silently grabbed Nico’s hand. He began forcing the first needle under his thumbnail, slowly pushing it in further. Nico cried out, writhing in pain. Dominic took the second needle from his mouth and repeated the process with the nail of Nico’s index finger.
I smiled a little inside, handing Dominic another needle.
He teased it to the tip of Nico’s middle finger. “Who’s your boss?”
We were met with silence.
Dominic began pushing the needle under that nail, eliciting a pained screech from Nico, whose breaths were fast and uneven. Fresh sweat started beading along his forehead.
“Who’s. Your. Boss?”
“Fuck you.”
I handed Dominic more needles as he finished up with Nico’s hand. He stepped over to Nico’s right, playing with the remaining needle between his fingers.
“Just give me a name, Nasuti, and I’ll stop all of it.” He lifted his head, staring at Nico. “It’s that simple.”
“Fuck. You.”
Dominic’s disheartened sigh spoke for all of us. Grabbing Nico’s pinky, he pierced Nico’s flesh with a needle and pushed it beneath that nail bed, completing the look on the rest of that hands’ fingers. Blood trickled out of each finger, dripping onto the chair’s wood, soaking into it. Taking a few steps backward, Dominic towered over Nico, expressing his approval of his work.
“It’ll take a lot more than that, asshole,” Nico muttered.
“I know,” Dominic calmly responded and then sucker-punched Nico in the face. His head flopped backward like a person experiencing extreme whiplash. Dominic punched him again in the face.
His ribs.
Stomach.