Total pages in book: 69
Estimated words: 65433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 327(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 218(@300wpm)
Bastian and I climb out of the SUV with our soldiers, who fan out around the property. I don’t expect Sonny to make a run for it, but it’s time to put him in his place.
Bastian and I head toward the front entrance. The man standing as the lone sentry looks at us, then at the men behind us. He hesitates, unsure whether or not to block our entrance or draw his weapon.
“Don’t,” I tell him. He’s outnumbered, and he’s not completely stupid.
“What the hell is the meaning of this?” Sonny demands, coming through the door as he tugs his shirt over his head. I catch a glimpse of his hairy, round stomach I wish I didn’t. He stops short when he sees the number of men assembled.
“Uncle,” I say by way of greeting. Bastian and I climb the stairs. Sonny stands his ground, and I walk right up to him. The man at his back puts a hand on the butt of his pistol. “Tell your man to stand down.”
Sonny’s gaze moves over my shoulder again. I guess he’s counting my men. He turns to his soldier and nods, and the man folds his hands in front of him.
“Aren’t you going to invite us in?” Bastian asks.
Sonny steps aside, and we enter. I take in the living room. It’s overcrowded, every surface covered with something gilded and hideous. A woman rushes out of the bedroom wearing what I’m sure is the smallest bikini ever made. She’s pulling on a wrap and her long hair is loose down her back, her lipstick smeared. She stops dead when she sees us all.
“Nadia, right?” Bastian says, looking her over. She tugs her wrap closer and shifts her gaze to Sonny. “Did we interrupt?” he asks her. “You’ve got a little something,” he starts, pointing at her mouth.
The woman flushes and wipes the corner of her mouth.
“What the fuck is the meaning of this, Amadeo?” Sonny asks.
“We’re going to need you to leave,” Bastian tells the woman and makes a point of taking out his wallet and unfolding a couple hundred-dollar bills. He holds them out to her, and her gaze shifts from Bastian to the money then to Sonny.
“This is my house,” she says stupidly.
“Yeah, well, if you’d rather stay,” Bastian tells her. Tucking his hand into his pocket, he pushes his jacket back so she can see his pistol.
“Nadia. Go,” Sonny says.
“Yes, Nadia. Go.” Bastian takes more bills from his wallet. I don’t miss the way my uncle looks at her. It’s certainly not like him to care about anyone other than himself. “We’ll try not to make a mess,” Bastian tells her with a grin that quickly disappears as he gestures for her to exit. She gives Sonny one more look before taking the money and heading to the door, her heels clicking all the way. “Your wife know about her? Or the dozen others? I do hope you’re using a condom, Uncle.”
“Explain yourselves,” Sonny says once she’s gone. “You can’t just charge in here like you own the fucking place—”
“My wife was attacked.”
Sonny’s face gives nothing away. He doesn’t even blink.
“She’s fine, thanks for asking,” Bastian says, moving to close the windows and blinds. Sonny doesn’t miss what he’s doing.
“An attack on your wife has nothing to do with me,” he says.
“No?”
“Of course not. What reason would I have to attack her?”
“To show us you can,” I say. “Six of our men were executed.”
His eyes narrow.
“Twelve of yours are dead.”
“It wasn’t me, nephew,” he says, sitting on the couch casually, too casually.
I sit on the edge of the coffee table.
His eyes narrow, but he also leans away. He’s nervous.
“If it wasn’t you, then who was it?”
He shrugs a shoulder. “You have many enemies. Where should I begin?”
“Uncle, have you ever considered just telling the truth?” Bastian asks, coming up behind him and setting the muzzle of his gun to the back of Sonny’s head. Sonny doesn’t blink. I hold eye contact with him. When Bastian cocks the gun, Sonny flinches. “Say the word, brother.”
“Why don’t you have more soldiers with you?” I ask him, truly curious. “You don’t normally travel without an entourage.”
“Nadia doesn’t like it.”
“Ah. And you like Nadia.”
He simply stares at me, eyes blank.
“You do realize she’s only here for the money, right?”
“She’s not like that.”
Bastian snorts. “Of course, she’s not.”
“It wasn’t me,” Sonny says, ignoring Bastian. “I didn’t order an attack on your wife.”
I smile. “No?”
“No.”
“All right then.” I stand. “Everyone out.”
Bastian steps backward, putting his gun away. Our soldiers begin to file out, taking the two Sonny brought with him along.
Sonny looks at me, confused. He grins and begins to rise. I guess he thinks this is over. He’s mistaken.
I whip my arm out to grab him by the back of the head, rear back and smash his face into the glass coffee table. He screams, and I’m not sure what’s louder, that scream or the sound of his skull cracking the heavy glass surface, but I do it again. A deep line splits the table and blood pools on the glass, dripping over the edge and seeping into the tacky white and gold area rug.