CHAPTER VIII

I stared hard at the man before me, who was clenching his hands into fists to maintain his composure. After our last shipment was infiltrated and a few of our men were ambushed, we were able to capture the dumbass who tried to flee the scene. He’d been in my basement for the last three days, and no matter what torture device we used on him, the fucker didn’t say a word. But I was running out of patience.

“Last chance,” I said quietly. “Who are you working for?”

Silence met my question once more.

With a heavy sigh, I strode toward the table, a number of different tools on its surface. I put on a pair of black latex gloves and stood before the man. I took the pliers and hovered them over his right hand. “Eenie, meenie, miney, moe,” I chanted slowly. The man whimpered, tears streaming down his face. “Catch a tiger by the toe. Eenie. Meenie. Miney...moe.”

I positioned the pliers around one of his fingers. With a swift and powerful squeeze, the plier connected with the finger and snapped it off, blood splattering on my face, dress shirt, and suit jacket. I watched impassively as the man’s bloodcurdling cries filled the room. Glad it’s soundproof.

“Who do you work for?” I asked again.

He shook his head, tears falling down his face, snot from his nose, and spit from his mouth.

Still no words.

Another finger hit the floor with a wet smack.

His screams faded into desperate gasps.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Matteo muttered. “Fucker still won’t talk even if all his fingers are gone.”

I tossed the pliers on the table with a clunk and took a step back. I removed the hanky from my suit pocket and wiped the blood off my face.

“Cauterize his stumps,” I ordered Lo.

Lo held the iron tool in the wood stove, and once the blade turned red, he returned and cauterized the man’s fingers.

Without saying a word, the man eventually passed out from the pain.

“What now, boss?” Luca asks.

“When he wakes up, we go to plan B.” I tossed the hanky into the trash and headed up the steps. “Call me when he’s awake.”

Without waiting for a response, I strode out the door, closing it behind me and taking the elevator upstairs. As the elevator doors slid open to the main floor with a soft chime, I straightened my jacket and stepped into the corridor. My dress shoes clicked against the marble tile as I made my way to the foyer.

When I turned the corner, I found my mother standing before me. She was dressed in an elegant white pant suit with heels, and her hair was up in an updo. Her eyes narrowed as they swept over my appearance, and she cringed when they landed on the blood on my clothes.

“Mother,” I greeted her with a smile.

Her sharp gaze bore into me, like she could see through me. But then she smiled sadly. “Nico, my son, I would hug you, but...” she gestured to my suit, making me chuckle.

I leaned in and kissed her cheek. “What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you. Just surprised.”

“What? A mother can’t stop by to see her son?” She gave me a sideways glance and a grin. “I came to drop off your and your brother’s tuxedoes for this weekend’s event.”

I sighed inwardly; my mother was relentless when it came to charity work. “Nico,” she began, her tone serious, “I hope you haven’t forgotten about the fundraiser event we discussed for the battered women’s shelter.”

I fixed myself a drink at the bar. “I haven’t forgotten,” I assured her. “Would you like something to drink?”

She raised an eyebrow, her steel-gray eyes assessing me. “But?” she asked, disregarding my question.

“I’ve been busy handling an important matter. But I’ll make sure everything is in order for the event.” I leaned against the bar and took a drink.

Fundraising events meant schmoozing and making nice with politicians, the police commissioner, and judges, two things I hated.

“I see.” She clasped her hands in front of her and nodded.

“I will make an appearance like I do every year. You can count on me being there,” I replied with a sigh.

A small smile flickered across her lips. “I know I can, son. You’re a good man.”

After a brief pause, she gracefully walked toward the bar. “Will you be bringing a special lady to the event?” she asked, not looking at me but dragging her fingers around the bar’s edge.

I ran my hands down my face. “Mother, there is no lady in my life. Just women I fuck.”

Her head snapped in my direction with a look of disgust on her face. “Nico! Watch your mouth. I raised you better than that.”

I smirked. I loved getting her riled up.

She shook her head and approached the picture above the fireplace—a picture of Mom, Father, Lo, and me. I didn’t know why she insisted on keeping his photo. After what he did to her—to me —he could never be forgiven, and what he did could never be forgotten.

“I do hope you will find a woman to love and marry one day. It pains me to see you so alone, Nico.”

“Mother, I am not interested in discussing my love life. My focus will remain on our family’s legacy, not on useless distractions.” My words were laced with bitterness, a shield I erected to protect myself from the wounds of my past. My ex-fiancée’s betrayal cut me deeply, leaving scars that festered beneath the surface, scars that would never heal.

My mother’s expression softened as she regarded me with a knowing gaze. “I am no stranger to the pain you carry. But you cannot let the sins of the past get in the way of your happiness. You need to be willing to forgive the people who hurt you. Otherwise, you’re letting their betrayal stop you from moving on and experiencing a happy life.”

A surge of anger rose within me, and I threw the glass against the fireplace. “Enough,” I barked, but she didn’t even flinch. Not that I expected her to since she understood my anger better than anyone else. “I will never forgive him or her for what they did. And I will not dwell on matters that are best left buried.” The thought of bringing up the past had me wanting to take out my aggression on the fucker downstairs. I’d find another way, just like I always had.

My mother’s eyes glittered with unshed tears, and I felt like shit for being the cause.

“Nico,” she whispered, “I only want what is best for you. Do not shut yourself off from the possibility of love. There is an angel out there for you who will bring light to your darkest days. And she will be the one to lead you to a path of forgiveness.”

I remained silent and focused on containing the storm of conflicting emotions that ran through me.

Mother placed a kiss on my cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I kissed her forehead in return.

“Nico, he’s aw—” Lo stopped midsentence when he saw Mother.

“Hey, Mom,” he said cheerfully.

“My baby,” she said with a loving smile and brought him into a hug. He bent down to hug her back.

When she pulled back, she told him that she dropped off his tuxedo for the event. He groaned about not wanting to go and made a crass remark that earned him a smack over the head.

“Well, I’ll see myself out. I’ll see you both at the event.”

After she left, Lo looked at me in silence for a moment before he said, “He’s awake.”

* * *

The man was going in and out of consciousness.

I gave Matteo a nod to proceed.

Matteo grabbed the bucket of water from the floor and tossed it in his face.

The man screamed and cried, begging us to stop.

“Not until you give us a name,” I told him through gritted teeth.

Silence met my question once more. Sick of this bullshit, and with a barely perceptible nod to Luca, I turned away as my men retrieved the pregnant woman, leading her from the back room—a room that was more like a cage.

The man sprang upright at the sound of her muffled sobs. His eyes widened in horror.

“No,” he gasped, the word escaping his lips like a desperate plea.

I took a glass and a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet on the wall. I dragged a chair closer, its legs scratching against the floor, and settled in front of the man, pouring myself a drink.

Luca pushed the woman until she stood beside me. The woman trembled and cried quietly.

I swirled the amber liquid, watching the man fight his emotions as he stared at his wife.

I looked at Matteo and tipped my chin to the chair beside the table. He pulled up the chair for her, gesturing to her to sit down.

Taking the last swig of my drink, I set the glass down and kneeled in front of the woman.

“What is your name?” I asked her in a gentle tone.

“Rosa,” she replied, her voice quivering.

I met her gaze. “Rosa, I promise you no harm will come to you and your baby as long as your husband gives me a name.”

“And if I can’t help you, signore?” she asked, tears falling down her rosy cheeks.

“Then you will die.”

She whimpered and shook her head.

Her husband thrashed in his chair.

Good. I got his attention.

“Give me a name,” I said to her husband while keeping my eyes on Rosa.

“I-I can’t. He will kill my wife,” the man said.

I peered over my shoulder and saw fresh tears spilling down his bloodied face. Standing up, I slowly turned to face him. I removed my suit jacket and flung it on my chair. I rolled up my sleeves as I spoke. “I don’t understand; if you love your wife, how you could risk her life and your unborn child’s by not giving me what I need? A name—it’s as simple as that,” I said. “You heard the stories about me, Fredrico.” He looked up at me with fear in his eyes. “I will not hesitate to take a woman’s life.”

A loud whimper came from Rosa.

“Pl-please don’t hurt them. Kill me instead” he pleaded.

“No!” Rosa cried. “Please, Fredrico, give him what he wants,” she begged.

Desperate, coughing pleas spilled from his lips, but still no answers.

There had to be something that would break his silence. With a frustrated sigh, I moved with lightning speed, yanking my gun from its resting place at the small of my back. I pressed the cold steel against Rosa’s temple, her eyes wide with terror.

“NO! Please, have mercy!” Fredrico screamed. “Don’t hurt her!”

“Then give me a name!” I roared. “This will all go away if you just give me the fucking name of the bastard who had the guts to give the order to take what’s mine,” I said through clenched teeth.

He sputtered, and she cried uncontrollably as I pressed the barrel harder to her head. My men stood nearby, quiet, knowing not to interfere unless I needed them to. I cocked the hammer and pushed the barrel against her head, forcing her to face the side.

A whisper, barely heard over Rosa’s cries: “He goes by the Puppet Master...” I smiled, dancing the gun across her belly, drawing fresh screams. “Who the fuck is the Puppet Master?”

He shuddered. “He sends a messenger and tells us where to pick up the shipment and the drop off location. I don’t know his real name. I’ve never seen his face or spoken to him. I swear, I’m telling you the truth.”

“How did he know where the shipment was?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. He doesn’t provide that information. He threatened to kill my Rosa if I didn’t do as he said. I had to protect her.”

I removed the gun from Rosa’s belly, and her shoulders slumped in relief.

I stared at him, searching his eyes for any sign of dishonesty, but there was nothing. I had enough experience to recognize when someone was lying. I did not doubt that he was telling the truth. Even if I let them walk away without protection, the Puppet Master would hunt them down without a second thought.

“Did he say where and when he was going to hit next?” I asked him.

He shook his head violently. “No. He didn’t say anything.”

I turned away, pouring myself another drink, the amber liquid sloshing into the glass. I downed a gulp, feeling the burn.

I looked up and kept my gaze on Fredrico when I called out to my cousin. “Luca, call Phillipe. They’ll need to be under protection,” I said.

Phillipe, our lawyer, would get the necessary paperwork in place to keep Rosa and Fredrico hidden with a new identity and location until we could kill the fucker and the rest of his men.

“You got it,” Luca responded, taking off up the stairs.

I stepped back over to Rosa and Fredrico, my tone hardening. “If you had just come clean from the start, you would still have all of your fingers and your wife wouldn’t have been scared shitless.” I took another drink, the alcohol fueling my anger. “I’ll let you both go, but you’ll be given new identities and sent to live in a new location. I’ll make sure the Puppet Master can’t find you. But mark my words—if I catch even a hint that you’ve betrayed me?—”

“I won’t, Signore Moretti,” he interjected. “We will not betray you,” he promised.

I searched for any sign of deceit, but only the truth was reflected in his brown eyes.

“Th-thank you,” Rosa said.

I walked out of the room and up the stairs without acknowledging her. Demon, my dog, was waiting for me on the landing. His tail softly thumped against the floor as he wagged it.

“You were never going to kill her, were you?” Matteo asked after he and Lo joining me.

I glanced at him and narrowed my eyes. “I may be a killer, but I’m not a monster.”

He smirked. “You’re getting soft, Nico.”

I glared at him.

Now what?” Lo asked as we made our way my office with Demon beside me.

“Now we find this Puppet Master and kill the fucker.”

We arrived at my office, and I turned to Matteo and Lo. “Make sure Fredrico and Rosa are taken care of and escorted off the property safely.”

“Will do, boss,” they replied in unison.

“And ensure they’re not being followed,” I continued. “I want my men to come back unharmed.”

Lo furrowed his brow. “Wait, do you think we’re being watched?”

“We can’t be too careful. If they knew all the details about our shipments, I won’t dismiss the possibility that they’re keeping an eye on us right now.”

“So, we need to create a diversion,” Matteo suggested. “To throw them off our trail.”

I nodded. “Correct. We need to be strategic about this. Keep me posted once they’re safely out of the country. I want to know every detail.”

My men acknowledged my orders with firm nods before heading off. I made my way to my desk with my dog trotting beside me.

Leaning back in my chair, I interlocked my fingers behind my neck, gazing up at the ceiling. I shut my eyes and summoned an image of Winter, getting lost in her innocence.

Goddamn, that girl.

I still couldn’t get the picture of her out of my mind from when I hauled her ass off the stage. And when she kicked and screamed, the fire in her eyes only fueled my desire. She wanted to fight me, and that fucking turned me on. I went home that night and jacked off until my dick felt like it would fall off. But damn, it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted her .

A sly smile played on my lips when I opened my eyes. “Damn, Winter. You’ve really fucked me up.”

Demon let out a soft grunt and settled his chin on his paws, his dark eyes locked onto me.

“What?” I teased, a smirk creeping onto my face.

He blinked at me, and I could have sworn the little shit rolled his eyes at me.

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

“Yes?” I growled, my patience fraying. All I craved was a moment of peace and quiet, for fuck’s sake.

“Senor Nico?” Gloria, my house manager’s, voice floated into the room.

“Come in,” I replied, trying to temper my tone.

As the door creaked open, she peeked her head in, her white and gray hair neatly pulled back into a bun. She had her usual sense of almost infectious calm.

“Is there something you needed, Gloria?” I asked, resting my hands on my lap, forcing myself to calm down.

“I ordered the flowers you requested for Senorita Winter,” she said, her eyes shining with their familiar warmth. “They are expected to be there tomorrow.”

Ah yes, the flowers. I’d arranged for a dozen white roses and another dozen red roses to be delivered to Winter. It was a reminder that she belonged to me. And now, she would have no choice but to think of me whenever she looked at them.

“And the box of candy?” I asked Gloria.

Gloria’s smile widened. “Sí, Senor Nico.”

When Luca had done some digging into Winter’s background, he discovered she was a sugar junkie, never leaving the house without a candy bar.

“Thank you, Gloria,” I said with a smile.

“She must be special, senor,” she commented, her voice softening as she closed the door behind her.

If only she knew how much Winter had turned my life upside down. I couldn’t shake the feeling that she haunted me, invading my thoughts day and night. It was the first thing in years that scared the hell out of me.