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“Good job,” Roman complimented him, enjoying the tears streaming down Wayne’s face.
“My turn,” Morrigan said with glee. She used Wayne as a punching bag, much like Roman had done with the one in the gym a couple of weeks ago. It was far more satisfying to hear the cries and grunts of a man in pain rather than the dull thud of the bag.
When Roman finally called a halt to the beating, Wayne was muttering, “Please, please, please,” over and over. He sounded very breathless and was struggling to draw air into his lungs.
Roman walked to the chain, lowering Wayne to the ground. He didn’t want him to suffocate before they finished playing. And prolonged suspension could do that. As he writhed pitifully, leaking blood and other bodily fluids onto the polished concrete floor, Roman unlocked the shackles from his wrists. “I’m removing these.” He picked up a crowbar from his well-supplied stock of toys. “But just in case you get the stupid idea to try to run...”
Roman brought the crowbar down on Wayne’s knee, smashing his kneecap entirely. He ignored the screams, moving on to the other. He tossed the metal bar aside and dusted off his hands. “There. Problem solved. Not that it would matter if you tried to escape. There’s nowhere left for you to go other than straight to hell.”
“I think he’s ready to answer some questions now,” Sal noted, looking down at the pitiful man.
“Yep. The appetizer is finished. Time for the main course,” Abel said, rubbing his hands together.
They questioned him for an hour, barely having to touch him to get truthful answers. They learned as much as they could about Godfrey’s operation, how the transactions worked, and dozens of client names. The accountant didn’t know anything about the locations of the victims, which would disappoint Angela. Roman knew she wanted to try to help the victims, not just make Godfrey pay.
After Wayne told them the passwords to the phone and tablet he had when they took him, Roman made good on his earlier promise. He took the sharpest machete he owned and sliced Wayne down the middle. The noise the other man made didn’t sound human, but then, anyone who made a business out of selling and raping children wasn’t human.
The chilling noise turned to gurgles all too soon, well before Roman started yanking out ribs. But he made sure to take plenty of photos to show Godfrey. Roman wanted him to know what was coming.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Angela watched the sun begin its slow ascent on the horizon. The sky went from black to a miasma of pinks, oranges, and yellows, creating a beautiful backdrop to the Monash city skyline.
She was on the rooftop terrace, waiting for Roman to finish his business with Wayne Hutchins. She had a pretty good idea of what was happening beneath her feet but didn’t allow herself to dwell on it. The elevator from the apartment to the roof bypassed the penthouse floor. It was a space Angela had yet to venture into. She understood its purpose and approved of it in some ways, but she was also aware of her own issues. She wasn’t prepared to risk triggering herself for the sake of curiosity or in the spirit of being supportive.
She snorted derisively because she was sure allowing your lover to have a torture chamber and incinerator to burn the bodies was support enough. Not to mention, the role she had played in the capture of Godfrey’s associate.
As she watched the sunrise, she contemplated how she felt about it all. So far, she decided, she felt pretty good. She had contributed and pulled her own weight. She wasn’t running and hiding, or denying the existence of issues like she had in the past.
“Growth,” she said to the new day. “It’s growth.” Considering she was closing in on forty, she felt damn good about being able to grow and change. “And they say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. They can get fucked,” she grumbled.
Taking a step back from the railing, she looked around. The rooftop was massive. There was a garden with grass, flowers, herbs, and vegetables. It was something Roman had first established for Luca. An active boy needed a large space he could run around and play. Now, it was the perfect place to bring the dogs, who still didn’t like the loud noises of the city.
A swimming pool with deep-blue tiles at the far end of the roof afforded privacy from the garden area. The roof and sides of the pool enclosure could be opened and closed, allowing it to go from indoor to outdoor with the click of a button. It was also heated so it could be used all year round.
There were three separate patios, all fully paved, and facing different directions. One could move around throughout the day, enjoying different views under the shade. A large water feature that was a replica of the Trevi Fountain, was in the center of the huge space. It wasn’t to scale, but it was a masterpiece. And when she had seen it for the first time, it really hit her that Roman was rich. I mean, who has their very own Trevi Fountain? she thought.
Up until Roman had blindfolded her and brought her to the roof for a romantic date, his billionaire status was more abstract than reality. But it had hit her then, just how obscenely rich he really was. “And now I live here,” she said with a nervous laugh.
She walked to the fountain and sat down on the edge. Dipping her hand into the water, she relaxed as she watched the ripples. “It’s beautiful up here.”
“It is.”
Angela jolted and screamed, Roman’s deep voice startling her. She’d been so lost in her own head that she hadn’t heard him approach. Her whole point of being on the roof was to wait for him. She wobbled on the rim of the fountain, squeezing her eyes shut because she was going to be very wet very soon. But before she made contact with the cold water, strong arms wrapped around her.
Roman cursed up a storm in Italian as he placed her gently on her feet. “Mio Angelo, are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I’m fine. I promise. Thanks for saving me from an impromptu swim.” She smiled at him. But he didn’t smile back. “Are you okay?”
He ran his fingers through his hair, disclosing, “I thought dealing with Wayne would help purge some aggression. But I want to capture Godfrey even more now.”
“Blood in the water. It makes sense,” Angela told him.
Roman’s brow wrinkled. “Blood in the water?”
“You know when fishermen toss chum in the water to attract sharks and predators? That first taste of blood in the water just leaves them wanting more,” she explained. “Wayne was the first taste. Godfrey will be the ‘more.’”
“Accurate,” he clipped.
