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It also didn’t take a genius to figure out why I felt a certain way about the abuse of women. Those three years on the streets had shown me an ugly side to man, and I’d gotten into my fair share of fights when I had come across a man trying to rape or abuse one of the many runaway teens on the street. I had lived in New York before making my way to Maryland, lucky that Marco had found me that fateful night, and I’d seen a lot of scum on the streets of New York. I’d once heard that the animal kingdom had nothing on the viciousness of man, and it was true. Human beings were the most dangerous things on this planet, and I was just fortunate enough to be able to stand with the best of them.
At any rate, rapists were up there with pedophiles as far as I was concerned. My mind wasn’t capable of wrapping itself around the idea of hurting children or women, so the torturing of women was left up to our resident Sartori psychopath, Adriano Giudice, because I wasn’t the only man in the family that felt that way. Luckily, we didn’t come across many female traitors that deserved to be introduced to Adriano. If anything, they were just shot, then dumped.
“I’m here for you, Johnny,” the redhead went on, trying to smooth his ruffled feathers.
“Yeah,” he snorted, unimpressed. “My dick in your ass will prove just how much you’re here for me.” He’d said it like he hadn’t already planned on fucking her up the ass to begin with, so everyone at the table recognized his bravado for what it was.
Leaving them to their bullshit, I drowned out the group’s mindless ramblings as I spotted Trevor Hucklebone sitting at a table with a few other people. There were four guys and three girls, implying that one of those females was going to have to pull double duty. Again, it wasn’t my business, but the more that I learned about Trevor Hucklebone, the better.
Eyeing the table, Trevor looked exactly like the pictures in the file that I’d given to Nero. He was about five-ten, his body a balance between stocky and overweight. He had light blonde hair that was long enough to put into one of those ridiculous man-buns, and he left the loosen strands to hang around his face. I knew from the file that he had blue eyes, but that was expected with blondes. All in all, he wasn’t very impressive, and I was curious as to who would be picking up the tab tonight. His gambling losses were significant enough that I was surprised that he could even afford the club’s cover charge at the door.
By all accounts, he was a mooch, and that was problematic for Manny, though he wasn’t aware of it yet. Men like Trevor Hucklebone had to be stepped on, if not, then they slithered around until they laid their eggs and became an infestation.
“Aurelio?” I turned at my name. “Isn’t that right?”
Normally, I’d know what he was talking about, but I had felt safe enough to tune out what everyone had been saying, focusing all of my attention on Hucklebone.
I really wasn’t a people person.
“Is what right?” I asked Alessandro Lorenzo.
“About Condie Sartori,” he said, making my back snap straight. “How she’s going to start having input in the game.”
I almost pulled my gun out to shoot everyone at the table.
Instead, I straightened in my seat, eyeing the man. “Firstly, tell me that you didn’t just bring up family business in front of a club full of people.” His brown eyes widened. “Secondly, why is Elio Sartori’s wife’s name in any of your fucking mouths?”
Alessandro started shaking his head. “No…it’s not like that. I was just-”
“Get out,” I ordered, giving pointed looks to both girls.
As soon as they scurried from the VIP section, I pulled my gun out, then pointed it in Alessandro’s direction, keeping the gun on the table, careful not to bring unwanted attention to the life lesson that was happening at the table right now. As much as we owned most of the city and state, I still knew better than to murder someone in front of hundreds of people.
Everyone at the table was stone-cold quiet as I asked, “How often do you motherfuckers discuss family business in front of pussy?”
Not one man answered.
“Let me make something clear, gentlemen. This isn’t the seventies or the eighties where proof had been hard to get,” I explained, my irritation plain as day. “Every asshole in this place has a smartphone, and though those two females seemed simple, did you check to see if their phones were on record before you started spouting off about shit that’s no one’s business?”
Every man’s face paled, and I wasn’t sure what bothered me more, their cowardice or their stupidity. However, that was something for Nero and Elio to deal with.
Chapter 6
Savina~
This was the third club of the night, and even if I did check every property that I knew of, there was still no guarantee that I’d find him. Three years was a long time, and for all I knew, the Sartoris could have built a million more restaurants or clubs to add to their collection. Still, desperation was clawing at my throat, so if I had to scour the entire state to find help, then that’s what I was going to do.
The first time that Ashton had beaten me, it’d taken me weeks to accept what had happened. I’d been raised to be a fighter, so my natural inclination had been to put a bullet through his head. Of course, that had all changed the second that reality had come crashing down on my head, but that fighter in me was still there, even if she felt weak most days. In fact, it had taken six months to condition my body and mind to accept what was my life, and I’d thought that I’d been at peace with my choices, but life was all about curveballs, and I’d just been thrown another one.
There was also the fact that my parents were no help. Last year, after one particularly bad beating, one in which I’d been convinced that Ashton was going to kill me, I had snuck away from my life to ask my parents for help. I’d been so broken that I hadn’t cared about the consequences at the time. I’d been scared in a way that I hadn’t been before, so I’d gone back home, hoping that my parents wouldn’t still be holding a grudge.
Well, I’d been wrong.
When I had knocked on their door, the look on my father’s face hadn’t been a welcoming one. Though he’d been curious enough to allow me inside my childhood home, that’s all that it’d been, a mere case of curiosity.
After telling him about Ashton and asking for help, my mother had remained silent as my father had thrown all my bad decisions back in my face. He’d made it clear that I’d been the one to make my bed so stupidly, so I was the one that was going to have to sleep in it. He hadn’t cared that I could barely move or that we were blood. As far as Paolo Valentine was concerned, I had shamed his name when I had decided that being independent was better than being a Mafia wife.
Though I’d been expecting his temper, my mother’s silence had surprised and hurt me. Women were the weaker sex in a family like ours, but I had still expected some kind of compassion from her. Again, growing up, my parents had been decent parents, so for my mother to know that a man was beating me regularly, and for her to not care, had been a hard pill to swallow.
