Page 41 of Bellini Bound
The doctor nodded in gratitude. “Good work. Thank you, Miss . . .” His words trailed off when he realized he didn’t have my name.
“Mrs.” Enzo corrected from behind me. “Mrs. Bellini.”
Eyes widening at that information, the doctor managed to rein in his shock enough to offer a curt, “Congratulations.”
I gave him a tight-lipped smile in return before making a hasty exit.
Running my hands through my hair, I silently berated myself as I raced toward my bedroom.
What the hell had I been thinking? I’d almost kissed Enzo!
And dammit, thatalmostwas what kept me up for the rest of the night.
Chapter 12
Enzo
Rollingmyshoulders,Icracked my knuckles, standing over the pathetic excuse of a man tied to the metal chair in the center of my basement.
I’d kept Vito on ice overnight, needing a minute to rest and recover after being shot. A pint of blood, some good drugs, and twelve hours of sleep had me fresh as a daisy. While I’d given my word I wouldn’t kill the piece of shit, his actions—his words— couldn’t go unpunished.
The fool was blubbering all over himself, begging for mercy. “Please, Enzo. I’ve given fifteen years of service to the Bellinis. If you let me live, I swear on my mother’s life, I’ll never so much as look at your woman again.”
I clicked my tongue, moving closer with a predatory gait. “See, that’s the problem, Vito. You didn’t just look.” Getting right up in his face, I roared, “You FUCKING TOUCHED!”
My hearing buzzed, my heart rate spiking. Just picturing those fresh bruises on her pale skin filled me with murderous rage, and I was dangerously close to breaking my promise to Allison that I would let him walk away with his life.
Pacing the concrete room like a caged animal, I ran both hands over my buzzed head, wincing when the motion pulled on the fresh stitches in my right arm. That pain was a reminder that as soon as I finished up business here, I needed to stop by Matteo’s place to deliver bad news.
“You know,” I remarked, stepping over to a table loaded with gleaming implements meant to inflict torture. “My wife said something last night that really stuck with me. Would you like to hear what it was?”
A quick peek over my shoulder allowed me to witness the indecision that played out across Vito’s face. He might be a dumbass motherfucker, but he was smart enough to realize that I was laying a trap.
When he didn’t respond, I selected a cordless reciprocating saw before turning to my bound prisoner and continuing my musings. “She said it would be a real bitch learning how to beat my meat with my non-dominant hand.” A dark chuckle slipped past my lips. “Well, I may have taken some liberties when it comes to the exact verbiage, but you get the point.”
Immediately, Vito realized my intent and began struggling against his bindings. The chair wasn’t bolted to the ground, so it tipped over with him still tied to it, and he cracked his head off the unyielding concrete floor. That stunned him motionless for a few seconds before he resumed his efforts to break free, though much more sluggishly than before.
“Think on the bright side,” I taunted, dropping to my knees. “At least you’ll be alive. You can thank my wife for that. She’s far more benevolent than I am.”
“Please,” he gasped. “Don’t do this.”
I pinned his wrist to the ground. “I would hate for all this flailing to cause me to miss.”
Pressing the trigger on the saw so it whirred to life, I witnessed the exact moment Vito resigned himself to his fate. It almost caused me to laugh outloud, because this was only the first facet of his punishment. Things would only get worse from here.
Even though he’d given up the fight, the primal urge to escape came roaring back to life the minute the saw blades pierced his skin. Vito screamed, trying to draw away as blood spurted from the open wound, soaking through both his clothes and mine. It took two additional men to hold him down while I finished the job.
Once the hand was severed from his body, I commanded, “Sit him up.”
They obeyed without question, and I removed my belt, tossing it to Mikey. “Put this around his arm. Can’t have him bleeding out before we’re done.”
While Mikey affixed the leather strap as a makeshift tourniquet, I returned to the table of tools, selecting three items: a pair of pliers, a blowtorch, and a knife.
Sauntering back over, I set the random collection of instruments on the ground. With a mocking tap of a finger on my chin, I spoke to my captive. “Now, what was it you called Mrs. Bellini again? I’m having trouble remembering.”
Pale and shaky, Vito could only manage a moan.
Snapping my fingers, I exclaimed, “Oh, I got it! You called her a stupid cunt.” I tsked. “That wasn’t very nice, Vito. And the more I think about it, the more I realize how downright insulting it was. Not only to her, but to me. Do you think I’m the type of man who would marry a stupid cunt?”
