Page 14 of Inescapable Ties
I grabbed the saw and starting carving away at the man’s wrist. It wasn’t long before the bone and sinew underneath appeared.
“Stop, stop!” Alberto said.
“Hm, it looks like you’ve learned something,” Ettore said. “Tell us what we asked for. Or Emilio will give you more ‘lessons.’”
“The Cartel has decided to expand where we do business,” he answered in perfect English.
“Why? You have a near monopoly on all states along the border,” I asked. “And it might be a logistical nightmare to get drugs from Mexico to New York.”
He laughed. “With a monopoly comes much wealth. And what do you do when you have a lot of money?”
The Cartel member paused, waiting for us to respond. He answered himself when we didn’t.
“Make more.”
“While I agree with the sentiment, that’s not going to be done in New York,” I said. “Now, who is your boss?”
“I have a twenty million dollar bill to send him,” Ettore muttered, obviously still upset about the lab situation.
“Pinche pendejos. You can chop off all of my body parts before I answer that.”
“I guess we’ll have to test that theory,” I said, picking up the saw.
A normal day at work for “The Butcher.”
Chapter eight
Luciana
WhenIwokeup,Emilio was nowhere to be found. All he had left were written directions.
Go home.
An address had been hastily scribbled on the paper and a keycard was taped on top.
“Pft,” I said, no one to talk to but myself. “As if.”
We had been married for less than twenty-four hours and he was already giving me instructions. He was going to learn quickly that bossing me around doesn’t work.
I was going to do something fun with my day. Get coffee, go shopping, anything that could help me forget I was married to a gruesome mobster.
I quickly pushed aside the thoughts of Emilio and his shady dealings, focusing instead on the day ahead. Determined to make the most of my newfound freedom, I sprang out of bed with renewed energy.
Within ten minutes, I was ready to start my day. I pushed the bedroom suite doors open, ready for anything.
There was a man I didn’t recognize sitting on the sofa.
Ready for anything except that.
“Who the hell are you?!”
I grabbed the closest object to me, a lamp, and chucked it at his head with surprisingly good aim. But although my aim was good, the man had better reflexes. He easily grabbed the incoming light.
“Dino,” he said. “Your detail.”
I scowled at him. “I told Emilio I don’t need any. You can leave.”
“Sorry Mrs. Renzetti, I’m under strict orders to take you home.”
