Page 73 of Forgotten Sacrifice
Vince
After a few minutes in the bathroom trying to talk down my erection, I give up, returning to the gaming floor. I spot Sal, and my erection fades, replaced by an all-consuming rage I’ve only ever felt once in my life.
Storming across the floor, I take Sal by surprise, shoving him against the wall with my forearm to his neck, the barrel of my gun positioned at his temple. “Touch her again, and I’ll fucking end you,” I promise.
“Gentlemen, my office,” Fabio says calmly, appearing beside me. I lower my gun, holstering it before I release my hold on Sal.
We silently follow the boss to the back, with Sal mouthing to me under his breath, “Povero coglione superficiale.” He flicks his fingertips from under his chin, and I have to resist the urge to pull out my gun and pop him, consequences be damned.
Fabio glances behind him too late, with Sal playing the role of altar boy.
The boss unlocks his door and gestures to the chairs across from his desk. Taking a seat behind his desk, Fabio says, “I don’t know what’s going on between you two?—”
“Boss, let me tell you,” Sal starts, but shuts his mouth when he notices Fabio twirling a small vial in his hand.
“Nor do I care. Here’s what’s going to happen. Sal, you’re not going to fucking touch Luna again. Vince, you’re not going to fucking pull a gun on Sal again. Understood?”
“Understood,” Sal and I both say in unison.
“Sal, return to your post.”
“Sure thing, boss.” He rises, flashing me a smirk the boss can’t see as he walks out.
“Vince, just a moment,” Fabio says, and I keep my seat. “Do I need to worry about you?” he asks when we’re alone.
“No.”Probably. “But if Sal touches Luna again, he’s the one you should be worried about.”
He sighs. “Christ, man. I thought you were the level-headed one around here.”
I shrug. I used to be, until Luna got under my skin.
“There’ll be repercussions if you kill him,” Fabio warns.
I lean forward in my seat. “I’m all too familiar with those repercussions.”
“Vince, I’m sorry,” he says earnestly. “I didn’t mean to open up an old wound?—”
“No worries, skipper,” I lie.
“Look, Sal’s a fucking idiot, but we can’t have family squabbles in front of the general public. Not with this war we have brewing with John Davis; word gets out, it makes us look weak,” Fabio admits.
“What’s happening on that front?” I ask.
“Still going through the security footage we swiped from Ace’s Wild Boxing Club. So far, nothing,” he admits.
“Who is this John?” We know this much: he’s fuckingbrazen for trying to take out Romeo Parisi, not once, but twice.
“Isn’t that the question.” Fabio’s pager buzzes, and he grabs it from his pocket and reads the message, sighing. “I’ve got to put out the next fire. You go ahead and call it a night.”
“Sure thing, skipper,” I say, knowing damn well Fabio’s trying to save me from myself.
Good. Somebody needs to.
Returning to my office, I find Luna asleep on my couch. She’s removed her hoodie, using it as a pillow. I make a mental note to get her a blanket and a pillow for when I have to work late.
I fall to my knees, admiring her stunning tits molded to her tank top. She wears the long sleeves to hide her scars, but the bonus is creeps like Sal don’t get to see her like this.
Because that right is reserved for me, the biggest creep of all.
