Page 26 of Veil of Vengeance

“Get in,” I order. Valentina crosses her arms over her chest.

“No.”

“No?” My mouth twists into a snarl as I repeat what she said back to her. She doesn’t seem fazed by the look on my face as she tips her chin up again in that fucking holier-than-thou way.

“Yes,no, I will not go into that cell just because you want me to.”

“Listen here, you little brat, getting in the cell isn’t an option. Now get in there, or I will drag you kicking and screaming.” I pause for half a minute to see if she’ll walk in by herself, or I’ll have to pick her up.

To no one’s fucking surprise, she doesn’t listen and glares at me. I throw her over my shoulder for the second time in the span of forty-eight hours, which she insults me for.

“Put me down, you imbecile.”

“Deal with it. You brat!” I throw back. It takes me two seconds to get her into the cell and to set her down onto the concrete floor.

“You son of a b-” I cut her off before she even thinks of insulting me and my Mom.

“I’m warning you, if you call my Mom a bitch, I will gut you like a fish. Behave yourself, you’re not a guest in this house.”

She recoils at my tone and goes to sit on the slab of concrete with a sheet over it that she’ll call a bed tonight.

“I didn’t do anything. I have nothing to do with the Outfit’s business,” she says once I reach the cell door. Her voice is meek and small.

I don’t turn, but tell her, “You may have nothing to do with the Outfit’s business, but your Dad is the Capo of the Outfit.”

“So that is enough to deem me guilty. Tradition says to not involve women and children in the wars.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about tradition. The Outfit violated my territory and killed my men. For that, someone has to pay.” I don’t wait for her reply. I lock her cell door and leave.

Romiro is waiting just outside. He’s leaning on the wall, as if he’s on the cover of some magazine.

“How’d it go? I heard you guys shouting at each other.”

I don’t answer him, so he follows me into the living room. I head toward the glass doors, which lead into our back garden and the pool area.

The house is eerily quiet since it is close to two-thirty in the morning. Everyone is asleep and the bite of the mid-October wind nips at the tips of my fingers. I run my palm down my face. Exhaustion will definitely play a hand in my decisions tomorrow morning.

I don’t know what the fuck I’m going to do with a brat like that. I thought that she’d be docile, but instead I got a bitch specially carved and raised by Satan himself.

“Hey. You should probably rest,” Romiro says, standing in the doorway. I nod and tell him he should head home as well. Which he does, after a moment of hesitation. I decide it’s time I get out of my suit and head toward my wing.

Taking two steps at a time, I find myself standing in the hallway of my wing, which has different pictures of me and Ma from when we were younger. There are also other pictures of me with other family members. I don’t understand why Ma insists on hanging these pictures in my hallway.

I finally reach the double doors at the end of the hallway, which open into a personal living room. I loosen my gray tie and throw it on the couch facing the fireplace, heading to the mini bar near the far wall, but then decide against it and step back over to the couch.

I grab the water pitcher and down the warm water as I sit down. Wiping my mouth, I grab the remote that controls the fireplace and turn it on. Then I reach for my gun holster and plop it down onto the coffee table in front of me. I turn the TV on next and go to the news channel. The corners of my mouth lift as I listen to the news anchor speak.

“The daughter of businessman, Alvize Moretti, has been kidnapped. It is unknown who the kidnappers are, but the young Miss Valentina Moretti had been last seen at the Chicago City Country Club in Chicago for the celebration of Moretti Industries.” Businessman, my ass. I roll my shoulders and put both my arms on the back of the couch, but my hands hang off the edge. I need to get a bigger couch.

I decide to go change and have a shower. Flicking the light switch on, I wince at the state of my room. Papers are all over the room, my bed sheets dangling off my California-king bed, and clothes are spewed all over the place.

I need to tell Ginevra to clean up my room soon. For now, I step over the chaos and head to the doors that lead into my bathroom. The bathroom’s state isn’t any better than the bedroom, but it's less of a mess that I’m able to shower and dry off.

I open a cupboard which I keep extra clothes in and pick a set of gray sweats and a wife beater. Leaving my hair wet, I go to my home office to get some work done. The clock on my office wall reads four-thirty now, which means I have a couple of hours before everyone is awake.

* * *

It’s alreadyeight in the morning and over forty-nine hours since we successfully kidnapped Valentina Moretti.

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