Chapter 11

11

DANTE

“ M r. Vitorri, w-what are you doing here?” he stutters on every word before snapping his attention in quick succession between me and Natalie. “This isn’t what it looks like. I can exp?—”

“I thought you’d have learned your lesson, Larry.” I enter the office and slam the door shut. With the broken locking mechanism, it dangles loosely in a mostly closed position.

Natalie breaks away from the table and sprints into my arms. She latches onto me, burying her head into my chest while tears roll freely down her cheeks. “I’m so sorry. Please don’t be angry at me.”

“I never could be,” I whisper, pressing a delicate kiss atop her crown.

I don’t move from her hug. Natalie’s my first priority, and I’ll be her support in this time of dire need. I will give it all to her no matter how badly I want to kill him.

“Thank you,” she whispers as she pulls away from my body.

“You should go now, Natalie. You should never have to witness what I’m about to do to this man.” I take my first step in his direction.

“No.” She sounds scared. “I want to watch.”

Her statement reaffirms my belief that she’s an angel sent from heaven to protect these poor, mortal cunts. Had Natalie not wanted to stay, I’d have left Larry Kissinger a crucified corpse on his office wall. A statement of finality to any and all who think one miscommunication-induced argument could cause my affection for Natalie to wane.

Not that Larry would know any of it, of course. But I like to think this is a way for me to release some stress about our spat.

“If you insist,” I say, cracking my neck from side to side.

“Come on, Dante. We can work something out,” Larry pleads. He’s not carrying any weapons in the office, it seems—a deduction I made while Natalie hugged me. If he had a gun in here, he would have taken it up while I soothed her aching soul.

“Can we?” I close the distance between us.

Larry’s cowering against a filing cabinet. His hands are raised above his chest, insisting on surrender. He can’t look me in the eye.

“Yeah, of course we can. Your boss likes money, doesn’t he? I can give you a whole lot of it.” He nods, satisfied with the response.

I scoff at the blatant arrogance. “Good God, you’re a real piece of shit.”

“Huh?” Larry’s brow furrows.

“What makes you think Don Lione wants anything to do with you?” I thrust my hand forward and wrap it around Larry’s thin throat. I squeeze until he’s choking out, and my knuckles turn white. “You’re not weaseling your way out of this one. It’s been a damn long time coming, and I’m going to enjoy it.”

He tries to speak, but the lack of oxygen turns his words into a choked mess of vowels and consonants. I keep him in place until his face borders on purple and his hands stop struggling against my wrists. I drive the heel of my boot into his shin to force him to the ground.

Larry howls in agony while he fights to fill his lungs back up.

But I’m not done with him yet. Dropping to his level, I grab a handful of his hair and smash his head into the side of the filing cabinet.

“What was that? Couldn’t understand a word you were saying.” I’m enjoying this a little too much, and the shrieking delight in my tone reaffirms it.

Larry cries out a constant loop of please stop and sorry, Natalie in an attempt to atone for his sins. Both fall on deaf ears, obscured by the sound of flesh striking metal and the pure satisfaction of watching him suffer.

“Dante.” Natalie’s voice hits my ear before her delicate hand falls on my shoulder. “He’s had enough.”

She instantly soothes the raging inferno, burning me to a crisp.

I release Larry’s head, and it falls into a puddle of blood, snot, and spit. I look up at Natalie over my shoulder, and she’s smiling at me.

“Let’s get out of here,” she says.

I take the hand on my shoulder and lead her out of the office. Attracted by the noise or maybe me carrying a barfly to the office, a few of Larry’s staff stand horrified outside the door.

We brush past them together, hand in hand, chuckling at the scene I’ve left behind.