Page 27 of Days Of Valentino

His eyes widen and the fear is evident on his face. “I haven’t seen or heard from Liliana in two years.”

“Mind if we come in?” Pops says, already pushing his way into the townhouse.

“You live here alone?” I ask Callum while following my father.

“Yes,” he answers as he closes the front door. “What’s this about?”

“How long were you involved with my daughter?” Pops asks Callum.

“A few months,” he says. “Is she okay?”

“I need you to write something for me,” I tell him, pulling out a notepad and pen. The creeper who broke into Lil’s apartment was stupid enough to leave a handwritten note.

“W-what?” Callum asks, his voice breaking. Fear has a way of doing that to people.

“Write my sister’s name.” I hand him the pen, and watch his hand shake as he scribbles out her name. I take out the original and hold it against his writing. “It’s not him,” I tell Pops.

“I want you to forget my daughter exists. Got me.” Pop pins Callum with a glare. “If I so much as hear a whisper in the breeze that you’re thinking of her, I’ll be back,” he adds before walking out the door.

“We’re down to two names,” I say more to myself than my father. “This next one lives in a penthouse on the Upper East Side.” It’s not as simple as pressing a doorbell and waiting for the fucks to open it when they live in a building with security.

“I’ll have Zio Romeo get us in,” Pops says.

My uncle Romeo is our family’s tech guru. There isn’t anything he can’t get into. And sure enough, by the time we get to the building, he has overridden the elevator system, allowingus access to the penthouse. When we enter the reception area, the night guard stands as if to stop us. He takes one look at who we are before he sits back down as if we aren’t even in the building.

Smart man.

“This guy, David Paul, is a high-profile investment banker,” I tell Pops.

“And?”

“And nothing, just saying. This guy is loaded. Why the fuck would he risk everything by going after Lil?”

“Because people are dumb fucks, Alessandro. There’s no point trying to understand the mind of an idiot,” Pops says.

The second the doors to the penthouse open, I draw my piece. “Looks like we found our guy,” I tell Pops as we step into the open-plan apartment. It’s completely devoid of furniture. There’s plastic taped to the floor. “It’s like he knew we’d be coming for him. He got the place ready for us.” My eyes focus on the walls lined with images of my sister. “Sick fuck,” I hiss.

“You take upstairs. I’ll cover down here,” Pops says.

“Remember to shoot last, Pops,” I remind him as I head up the stairs.

There’s a small landing that leads to four closed doors. I open the first one, finding it empty. The second has me almost losing the contents of my stomach. It takes a lot for me to be sick, but the scene I just walked into… it’s some fucking twisted shit. There’s a bed, made up with pink sheets that match the ones in my sister’s apartment. And there’s a blow-up doll tied to the bed wearing a dress I can only assume came from Lil’s closet. I’ve seen her wear it before.

The third door opens into an empty bathroom so I head to the next one. Right as I turn the knob, a gun fires and I hear the whizz of a bullet graze right past me. I return fire and hit thefucker’s hand. The gun he was holding falls to the ground, and he screams out as blood pours from the middle of his palm.

I close the distance and my boot connects with the side of his head. “That was a fucking stupid move, motherfucker. If you’re going to shoot at a Valentino, make sure you can fucking aim,” I tell him. “If not, you’ll have two seconds to run.”

“Fuck you!” he spits out.

My father runs into the room with his own weapon raised. “I got this,” I tell him. He takes his time looking me over, probably searching for bullet holes before he lowers his arm.

“Get him downstairs,” Pops says.

Gripping up the back of David’s shirt, I drag the fucker behind me as I escort him from the room. He’s a fucking heavy fuck too. God damn it. When I get to the top of the stairs, I wait until my father has stepped aside before I toss David down after him. The fucker’s body stops halfway, so I walk down and kick him, forcing him to roll the rest of the way until he hits the bottom landing.

“Well, that’s one way to do it.” Pops smirks.

“He’s a heavy fucker. I’m not doing my back in carrying his ass,” I grunt.

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