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“Of course,” I say, smirking. I’m ready. When armed with a well-executed plan, kidnapping is my favorite part.
“All right. Let’s go.”
Matt doesn’t see us coming. The little prick is too caught up in himself to notice anything around him. Typical.
His lack of focus is even more evident when he checks his phone, turning his momentary distraction into outright oblivion.
It’s only a few seconds, but it’s all the time we need.
“Hey, Matt?” Nico shouts.
Matt’s head snaps up. His face matches the photo we saw of him on his profile. Caught him.
My lip curls in disgust and I clench my fists.
I can’t help but react to seeing this fucker in person. The man who dared put his hands on my princess.
If this were my kill, I’d draw it out. Make him pay for every cruel word or thought he has ever had towards Christina.
But it isn’t. This kill belongs to Nico. I have to hold onto my restraint for him.
“It’s Matthew, right? Matthew Ricci?”
“It’s Matt. Who are you?” His eyes narrow as he takes in our appearance. “And why do you care?”
He zips up his bag and slings it over his shoulder.
“You’re Christina’s ex?” I ask. I already know the truth, but I want to hear him say it.
Besides, confirmation is a safety technique. It wouldn’t be fair to take this rage out on someone else. I take a step to the right as Nico steps left. I’m not against killing random men who look at us wrong. I just don’t have time for diversions today.
Matt nods his head, looking from Nico to me and back again.
Perfect.
“Do you know who we are, Matthew?” Nico steps closer. His voice drips with excitement.
“If you’re pissed your little girlfriend is a whore, it’s none of my—"
I step forward and plunge the needle into his neck. We’re armed with Glocks, knives, and Trazadone. Luckily, this sedative works fast. Not even a minute later, we’re there to catch him, holding his limp body between us as we walk him over to our car.
Perfectly normal. Nothing to see here.
His feet drag a little as we hold him upright. His useless body is heavier than I imagined. He’s not built. Tall, six foot three maybe. Broad shoulders. But not strong by any means. Just annoyingly fucking heavy.
Good thing I’m strong.
We shove him in the backseat of the car and close the door, hopping into our own sides and speeding away, the guys are on our tail immediately, so I know we haven’t been caught.
Luckily the college is only a few miles away from the warehouse.
We own nearly the entire city, including the police force. But when it comes to murder – it’s better to cover all your bases.
Instead of cutting him into pieces in an open field, we need to do so in private.
There are rules, after all.
The Venitti family has a good reputation for disposing of our enemies’ bodies in the river like upstanding mafioso. Not like those bastards in some of the rival families.
