Page 133 of The Devil's Heir
"Great idea," I tell him, then ask, "Why wasn't I informed of this?"
Lonzo waves it off as though it's no big deal. "You were busy with your Bellezza. Besides, I'm telling you now."
"It makes no difference. You must tell me these things so I can be prepared, Lonzo." I scowl at my old friend. "Does Joey know?"
"Who do you think got me her ring?" Lonzo replies, grinning.
I shake my head. "Your son is going to get himself into trouble one of these days. I wouldn't be surprised if one of his many women tries to cut his cock off for doing half the shit he does."
"Yeah, well, hopefully, it will stop once he settles down." Lonzo sighs.
A commotion at the door draws our attention. We look over to see a disgruntled man standing by a table where one of the prominent specialists at Rushwood's hospital is having lunch with a few colleagues. It's evident the man is pissed about something as he spews curse words while pointing at the doctor.
When the doctor tries to calm the guy down, he picks up the water glass and throws it at the doctor. I don't know what this specialist did, but it's got to be bad if the guy is confronting him in a public place. Suddenly, the guy reaches into his zip-up sweatshirt and pulls out a gun.
"You fucked my wife when you were supposed to be curing her cancer, you sick fuck!" The guy yells.
"Please! Put the gun away, and we can talk about this. It's not what you think—" The doctor's words are cut off as the gun goes off.
The doctor grabs his arm as another shot is fired, and this time, it hits an innocent bystander, and I've had enough. I stand up, pull my own gun out, and come up behind the lunatic.
"Drop the fucking gun now," I growl as I hold the barrel of my gun against his head.
The man drops it.
"Turn the fuck around and face me," I order.
He follows my instructions, and his eyes widen when he sees me.
"Mr. Falcon! I-I…"
"You disturbed my lunch, and you killed an innocent person," I say and step closer. "I don't give a fuck if this doctor railed your wife on her death bed—you don't come into my territory and wave a fucking gun around like you're some kind of badass."
"I wasn't planningon—"
"The fuck you weren't, or else you wouldn't have had the gun. Now, take out your phone and call your wife."
"What?"
"Did I stutter?"
"No, but…"
"Fucking do it!" I scowl.
He pulls his phone out with shaky hands and presses a button. I hear the other end answer and a woman's voice cries out the guy's name.
"Now tell her you love her, and say goodbye," I order.
"What? Please, don't—"
I cock my gun.
The guy cries into the phone, telling his wife exactly as I instructed, and then hangs up. Bringing my arm up, I bring the gun down on his head, knocking the disgruntled man out.
"Thank you, Mr. Falcon," the doctor says, smiling. "He was a bit disturbed—"
I pick up the other guy's gun and shut the good doctor up by putting a bullet in his head. "That's for fucking a terminally ill patient, asshole." Wiping my prints, not that it's needed, I then drop the gun by the unconscious man and step over him.
