Chapter 3

“I won’t be staying long,” I say as I toss the keys to one of the men. He catches them in the air and nods, walking to my car to park it properly.

“Vincent!” I yell as I walk into the building.

One of the rooms is filled with screams echoing out of it. Vincent has to be there.

I walk past the room used to store bags of cocaine. Some of my men are working there. The brightly lit room allows me to see their faces, with a few ladies clad in only panties and bras.

The screams get louder as I walk further into the warehouse. Vincent’s head comes into view as I stop by the slightly opened door. I push it wider and Vincent’s gaze meets mine.

Everyone in the room stops to nod a greeting as I walk into the room, my hands in my pockets. Everyone except the snitch tied to the steel chair with a bloodied face. He is breathing heavily, with one of his eyes barely open and the other swollen. His body has whip lashes that have turned the color of his skin a bright red.

“Please let go of me; I am innocent.”

“Cagna(Bitch),” Vincent says through gritted teeth. He raises his fist, wrapped in a chain, to connect a punch to the face of the prisoner.

I stop him before he does. “Who are you?” I ask.

The prisoner keeps mute and turns his gaze away from mine, planting it on the ground.

“I expect a fucking answer when I ask you a fucking question.” I unbutton the sleeves of my shirt and roll them up. “I’ll only ask you one last time. Who the fuck are you?”

My voice has gotten louder with fury.

“Vaffanculo(Fuck you),” the prisoner responds, spitting out blood.

In a fit of rage, I angrily connect my fist to his jaws and send him tumbling to the ground, still tied to the chair. He groans loudly. My men pick him up from the ground and bring him back to his spot.

“I’ll make you regret every choice you have made trying to mess with me.” I punch him hard again in the face, causing him to spew out more blood.

He has bloody cuts on his bald head. His bloody face smears my fingers. He has a tattoo mark on the side of his neck. An anchor. The mark of the Famiglia Rosetti. I grip his neck and tilt it to the side to stare at the tattoo. He really is one of them.

Fuck.

How did they find out about our truck? Why did Matteo let this happen?

Vincent unwraps the chains from his knuckles and hands them over to me.

“You’ll wish you were dead.” I take another shot at him, hitting him with a vicious punch. He screams in pain, his face bruised with several cuts from the edges of the chain. My wrists start to hurt, but I continue hitting him.

Vincent holds me back after a few minutes.

“Leave me the fuck alone,” I grunt, shaking off his grip. The prisoner’s face is almost unrecognizable. He spews out more blood.

“He… he sent me.” His words stop me from connecting another punch to his face.

“Who?”

He keeps mute again, trying to catch his breath.

I grip his neck and squeeze tight. “Who sent you?”

He struggles in the chair as I suck the air out of him. His eyelids flutter as his legs move frantically on the floor. He coughs as I release his neck from my grip.

“I won’t stop next time.”

A smirk plays on his lips as he stares at me with half-opened eyes. “We are closer to you than you think.”

What?

His words throw me off balance as they echo in my ears. The truck had set out to leave last night. I was with Colina around that time.

Could it be? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“How?”

The prisoner lets out a laugh instead. It fucking pisses me off even more.

“Answer me, fuck head!”

He ignores me and continues to laugh hysterically. I punch him in the face and grip his neck again.

“Don Salvatore is the only Capo(Boss).” He finally sneers.

I unwrap the chain from my knuckles. They’ve turned white with tiny cuts on them. In a sudden move, I turn to slip the gun from Vincent’s pocket and pull the trigger on the prisoner.

He falls to the ground with a bullet hole in his head.

-----

Colina

I try to slam the door to my room shut but it gets stopped by Matteo. I’m so fucking pissed at him.

“Lina,” he grunts as he slams the door open wide.

“Get out of here.”

He ducks in time as I toss a brush at him. His face is contorted in a frown.

“I don’t fucking want you here.”

“Stop this, Lina.” Matteo slaps away the clothes I toss at him next. In a long stride, he covers the distance between us and holds my wrists tight. Tight enough to stop me from picking up anything else to throw at him but not enough to hurt me. Matteo would never do anything to hurt me.

“Let go of me,” I grunt, wriggling my hands to set myself free.

He ignores me and keeps his grip firm. We have the same amber-colored eyes.

“Not until you chill the fuck out and listen to me.”

I look away from him.

“Why do you have to be so goddamn stubborn?” he hisses. Matteo waits for a few minutes before he lets go of my wrists. “I only want what’s best for you.”

“A life outside all of this is what’s best for me. I went to college and graduated with a fucking degree. I want a normal life where I can have a normal job, not any of this.”

He is the only reasonable person around here who would even stop to listen to me.

I’m pacing the room angrily with my arms crossed across my chest. I thought I could have his support by convincing Father to let me have a life of my own. All Father and Mother do is give commands with no regard for what I want. If I could choose between hell and living under this roof, I wouldn’t hesitate to strike a deal with the devil.

“I am only protecting you.”

“Protecting me from whom, Matteo?” I stop in my tracks to stare at him.

He plants his gaze on the ground and pinches his forehead, letting out a sigh.

“Tell me, brother, who do I need protection from?” My shoulders ease a little as he places his grip on them.