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Losing Adriana again and the pressure of finding L’Uomo’s killer are driving me fucking crazy. The other Mafia gangs are probably already aware of his death.
Tarik found him dead in his room with a bullet in his chest. He claimed to have found him after he heard a sound while he was taking a damn pee. I’m not trusting his word. Everything feels odd about the situation. Only Daniel, Tarik, and I know where the safehouse is.
Daniel and I never finished our talk about my father and getting his revenge. I’m fighting my gut so hard not to believe he did this. Killed my father. I look at him through the corner of my eyes. Daniel’s gaze is fixed on the road. And I want to punch him in the face to tell me the fucking truth. But Adriana is my problem now. I have to find her. I need to.
Daniel stops the car in front of an abandoned warehouse and turns to me.
“They are here.”
My fingers reach for the door in a swift moment and just before Daniel yells for me, I’m already marching to the front door.
Adriana isn’t safe without me. Every minute that passes without finding her puts her in danger. A fucking asshole could have his dirty hands all over her.
I land heavy knocks on the front door.
“Open the fucking door!”
One of my men is outside at the far end of the building, watching me. He makes a whistling sound and someone from the inside opens the door.
“Boss.”
“Where the fuck are they? Show me!”
He leads me to another brightly lit room with five men strapped to chairs. Daniel takes a minute to join us.
The men in chairs stare at me with bloody and swollen faces. Their shirts and pants have been stripped off, sitting there clad in boxers. By the wall is a table holding different weapons.
“None of them have spoken yet,” one of my men says.
I tsk, walking around them to see their faces clearly. “They are about to. Get me buckets of water now.”
The prisoner seated in the middle groans loudly, staring at me with a black eye that is half open. I angrily punch his face as I spot a fucking smirk. He falls to the ground, still strapped to the chair and coughs out blood.
“You think this is fucking funny?”
My men pull his chair back up.
I roll up the sleeves of my shirt and punch the fuck out of his stupid face till my hands hurt. A tooth flies from his mouth as I connect one last fist to his jaw. He’d think twice again before putting on a fucking smirk. His face is covered in his own blood with multiple cuts.
“Where is Adriana?” I ask the next one. He is breathing hard with his face down. I grab his hair and pull it backward to let him face me.
“Who is Adriana?”
He grunts as I slap his face hard. “Fucking answer me, you bastard!” I pull his hair harder, taking a fistful and squeezing it tighter. He yells in pain.
“I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.”
I punch his face and a mixture of blood and saliva spews from his mouth. “Get me a knife. I’ll fucking cut you open till you start speaking.”
One of my men in the room with us hands me a dagger. I place it underneath the man’s neck, staring at him with gritted teeth.
“Where the fuck is Adriana?”
He stares me in the eyes, his chest heaving in fear. He winces loudly as I press the sharp edge of the dagger further into his skin. Trails of blood sips through the little cut down his throat.
“Answer me!”
“Ti… scongiuro. (I… beg you.)”
