Page 48 of Undeniable

“Is that a good thing?”

She smirks before she resumes her work on the dress. “Depends on what you are hoping for. If you want Gio to lay off and let you go one day, then no. If you want him to make you his forever, I’d say you are already there. Better buckle up sweetheart. These Mariano men don’t mess around when they see something they want.”

Chapter Eighteen

Giovanni

Blood drips from my knuckles as I cock my arm back and deliver another devastating blow across the guy’s face, sending several teeth skittering across the warehouse floor. A tortured groan escapes the piece of shit as his neck sags, his arms and legs tightly fasted to the metal chair.

“Stop wasting my fucking time. Because of you, one of my best men is dead. Because of you, a wife, daughter and unborn child have just lost everything. Now tell me, how did you contact the Chernoff’s to tell them we were picking up a shipment?” I roar in the punk’s face.

The kid can’t be more than 19. We put the pieces together yesterday that the Chernoff’s were tipped off by our location, the list was narrowed down pretty quickly and left us with this young dock worker before us. The fact that as soon as he saw us this morning, he paled 3 shades and took off running also was a bit of a giveaway.

He spits a glob of blood at my feet as he struggles to catch his breath before tossing his head back.

“Just kill me. I am dead either way,” he says resigned, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion, or maybe it is because they are practically swollen shut.

I mean, I have been using him as my own personal punching bag for the last 10 hours, he has honestly taken it much better than I would have expected, and he hasn’t breathed a word. It has me wondering if his loyalty runs deeper than his pockets.

I take a step forward and rip his head up to look me in the eye as I look down at him with barely restrained rage. I have always been good at interrogations and getting people to spill their guts, literally and metaphorically. I grew up with a nasty temper and an abusive father, so I guess you could say it comes as second nature to me. This shit though, this shit is personal. Because of this piece of shit, Jack is dead. Because of this piece of shit, I could have been to.

He betrayed the Mariano’s and that is something that no one ever does twice, mainly because you don’t live long enough after the first time. I am glad that he has at least enough common sense to know that it is not an if he will die, but when. Only he can decide how painful it will be. If he tells me what I need to know I may be inclined to snap his neck, nice and easy. I seriously fucking doubt it though.

“How many others are on Chernoff’s payroll? How long have you been keeping tabs on us for them?” I growl lowly.

The little prick laughs, in my fucking face, as he shakes his head side to side.

“Longer than you realize, clearly. They have been gunning for you guys since you took out Vladimir. They have just been waiting for their chance at revenge, and now, you are all gonna die.”

My rage begins to boil over as my hand wraps around his throat and squeezes. His eyes bulge out as they dart around frantically. Not sure exactly what he is looking for? An escape maybe, good luck though. Despite the fact that he is tied up and has at least 60% of the bones in his body broken, he is also surrounded by a room full of blood thirsty Soldiers, all craving justice and revenge for the attack on us and our fallen brother.

“Last chance,” I grit through my clenched teeth.

Though his face is practically purple with lack of oxygen, I see a glint of defiance, a glint of loyalty. He will never give them up. He is willing to die to protect them, which makes me believe that he is more than likely Bratva through and through and not just some random dock worker.

Disappointment floods through me that the last half of the day has been a waste of time, besides a little stress reliever. I release his throat before turning my back and walking towards the instruments table. I don’t make eye contact with anyone as I reach for the industrial gloves that we brought, putting two pairs on just in case. Once my skin is fully protected, I reach for the glass jar filled with a clear liquid, an almost identical looking jar to the one that Jack took to the face. I knew that we would be killing him, obviously, so I thought there was no better way to honor Jack’s memory than to dole out the same excruciating death that he endured.

The kid looks a little confused for a second until I turn around fully, and he sees the gloves and then the glass jar. His eyes widen as he begins fighting against the restraints.

“Fuck! You are crazy! Fuck you all! You are all dead. Your families are dead, your kids are dead, and your women are dead!” He shouts wildly as his eyes flick to each of my men before landing on me.

The way he looks at me when he says women sends a chill down my back and a sinking feeling into my stomach. I don’t know if that was a reference to the woman that I have already lost, or the woman that I am absolutely terrified to lose. Either way, it pushes me to take the remaining steps until I am only a few feet away from him. My jaw is tight, my face impassive as I stare down at him like the pathetic parasite that he is.

“Not as dead as you,” I say evenly as I wind my arm back and throw the glass at his face with all my might.

The glass shatters against his skin as the acid instantly starts eating his face. His screams are piercing and blood curdling as the stench of burning skin begins to spread throughout the room. A large piece of glass is sticking out of his eye as he whips his head around wildly, like he could actually make the pain stop if he continues.

I flick my eyes around the room to see a few of my men with less than stellar poker faces as they watch this man literally melt before them. I send them warning looks to lock their emotions down, and they quickly do so before I return my gaze to the deteriorating man. I don’t 100% blame them, it is a pretty horrific sight, especially for the first time.

Deciding that our work is done here, I glance to the Capo standing near me before nodding brusquely and turning on my heel for the door. I hear the sound of footsteps following me in between the animalistic screeches that the Bratva piece of shit is letting out. I am pissed that I wasted all of my time on him when he never crumbled. I guess it isn’t a total loss though. We now know that the Chernoff’s have been watching us closer than we anticipated. They are most definitely after us, our families too, and seem to be determined as hell to bring us to our knees.I’d like to see them fucking try.

-

When I walk into Luc’s house, instead of heading right towards the sweet laughter of Tasha and Alessandro as they play, which is quickly becoming my favorite sound of all time, I turn left and bound up the stairs to take a shower.

Now that everything is out in the open, I know that Tasha is a smart enough woman to know that violence is a part of this life, that doesn’t mean that I want to kiss her when I have a dead man’s blood drying on my skin.

She hasn’t been exposed to much for obvious reasons but for someone who was just a nanny from California one minute and suddenly thrust into the thick of the Italian Mafia, she is handling things surprisingly well. Of course, she freaked out when she found out what my job really was, but her fear seemed bigger than that. She didn’t seem scared of me, she seemed scaredforme. I have tried to push it out of my mind but there is something about her fear that doesn’t sit right with me.

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