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“Rise and shine, sleepy head!” Valerio clapped his hands loudly, the sound vibrating off the walls. “We’ve come to keep you company today.”
I removed my suit jacket and threw it onto the small wooden table off to the corner. I rolled up the sleeves of my dress shirt and walked over to what I had dubbed the fun corner.
It was a large wooden table with various toys that I enjoyed using during my sessions. Blades, pliers, saws, and my personal favorite darts. My eyes moved across the table, searching for what to play with first.
Eenie… meanie… minnie… hmm…
I picked up the blade that looked like the one my wife had pressed against my balls this morning.
Perfect.
I turned and found my brother crouching in front of our captive. He slapped his face gently, trying to get him to raise his head.
“Come now, Boris, this will be no fun if you don’t participate. Give me a little something,” Valerio groaned. “If you need a little inspiration, I will tell you what the others do. Some start with a little anger in them, then they start shitting bricks. If that’s not your speed, we could skip all the bravado and then just head straight to the pleading for your life.”
Boris lifted his head ever so slightly to look my brother in the eye. There was a large gash on the side of his head leaking blood. Bruises colored his cheeks, and his lip had a large cut on the side.
“Hey!” My brother spread his arms out excitedly. “Finally, we have some action. Tell me, how is your sister doing? Last I heard she was stripping for coins at one of our brothels.”
Boris glared at Valerio. “Go to hell,” he spat.
My brother sucked the air between his teeth. “Already there, my friend. Now that you’re awake I will leave you in the ever-capable hands of Andres. Try to make this a little exciting, okay?”
He patted Boris’ thigh and turned away from him. He went to stand in the corner of the room, allowing me to get started.
“Privet, Boris.” I stalked toward him until I came to stand between his spread legs. I grabbed his chin and forced him to meet my gaze. “I see the streets of New York have not been kind to you over the years.”
He pursed his lips into a hard line. “Porozhdeniye d’yavola.”
“Spawn of the Devil?” I chuckled. “My father doesn’t deserve such an honor. Now let's cut the small talk and get down to business, shall we? You owe me a life.”
I took my blade and pressed the tip against the side of his torso. The man dripped with sweat and blood. He had various cuts all over his body and his face was painted crimson. And yet he still managed to keep his mouth shut.
I was a master at torturing. It had been an art that I had learned from my father.
“You killed my soldier.” I pressed the tip a little harder against his skin, piercing the soft flesh enough to draw blood. “No, that’s not correct. You tortured him until his body was almost unrecognizable, and then you put a bullet in his head.”
“He came after me. He tried to put a bullet in my head.”
“Mh…” I mused over his words. “Let’s not pretend you have been an upstanding citizen of society since the downfall of the Bratva. You and your men have been busy little bees.”
I pressed the knife in further. This time I got the tiniest of screams to escape his lips, and I knew that I had him. I pressed the knife in deeper only a few millimeters from the liver. I knew the body well enough to know just how far I needed to go to not kill him.
“Who killed Angelo Baratelli?”
His screams stilled, then he lifted his head. The psycho dared to split his lips into a sadistic smile. Blood pooled over the white of his teeth, the knife held in place by my steady hand.
“Stupid, stupid boy,” he crackled. “This is what this is about, isn’t it? Her.”
I twisted the blade and he let out a loud howl of pain. When I was done, he hung his head low, the sweat on his forehead mixing in with the dirt and the blood.
“Now why would I ruin the greatest surprise of your life, Andres?” he heaved out, fighting against the pain in his lungs. “You cannot save her, Andres. The mark has been made, and the date has been set. It’s only a matter of time before death finds your wife.”
I ripped the knife from his body and the blood oozed out of his side with each labored breath. I wound my hand around his neck, further restricting him from the oxygen his body so greatly desired.
“Bold claim from a man who’s about to die.”
Boris’ eyes bulged from their sockets. “What awaits your bride… is… far worse… than death.”
