Page 52 of Marco DeLuca

“Your wife is dead. You don’t suggest I leave with you. You toss me aside like a piece of trash in the garbage! You owe me more than that!”

“I owe you nothing. I tried respecting your feelings by telling you instead of disappearing. Do you want the truth? I really couldn’t care less.”

“I hate you! You fuck me, use me, and then march out of my life as though I don’t matter! I vow to make every day of your life miserable until you leave this country, Marco DeLuca!” she screams, grabbing a vase and throwing it at me.

I dodge it, and the vase shatters to the floor. I move so swiftly across the floor I don’t even realize that it was a thought in my mind before I’m on the other side of the room with Serena pinned against the wall and my hands around her throat.

“Don’t you ever fucking threaten me again. Do you know how easy it would be to end your life? How easy it would be to make you disappear?” I whisper in her ear. “Stronza, I will kill you!”

Her bottom lip trembles, and I release her. “You might be stupid, Serena, but you’re not fucking crazy,” I sneer.

I turn and walk out of her apartment, knowing I’ll never see her again.

“Mr. DeLuca!” I hear a shout behind me as I lean into my car. I turn around only to see Detective Greco slithering his way to me.

I stare him up and down as Gino steps from the car and stands beside me.

When Greco comes closer, Gino steps in front of me, blocking the detective from my path. I’m not a small man by any means. At six-three and two-fifty, I’m no small guy, but three inches taller than me and two-seventy-five Gino makes even me look small.

The detective is lanky and looks like a strong wind might blow him over.

“Stand down, Gino,” I say.

Gino steps beside me, glaring at the detective.

“You know what I think, DeLuca?”

“Don’t give a shit,” I snarl, spitting beside his feet.

He glares up at me, pulls out a cigarette that he sticks in his mouth, and lights it.

“I think your wife found out about your mistress and confronted you. I think things got ugly, and maybe you didn’t mean to, but Graziella was all in your face. Maybe she threatened to rat you out to the public or divorce you and take away the millions you have access to through her family.”

I chuckle and glance at Gino. Jerking a thumb at the detective, I say, “This guy is clever. He thinks I give a shit about millions.”

Gino laughs and shakes his head.

We’re fucking billionaires, and if this asshole had done a portion of his homework, he’d know that. I don’t care to enlighten him though.

He nods and holds out his hands. “That’s okay. So maybe it wasn’t for the money, but I think she said some things that got under your skin. I think she pushed your buttons, and you lost your temper. Then you had your guys come in and stage it to look like a random murder.”

“You’re a dumb prick, you know that?”

“Either that...or that pretty little lady up there may have gotten jealous because you refuse to leave wifey, and she decided to end it for the Mrs.,” he says, swiping his hand across his throat.

“You know that might be a great idea if she’d been....” I slice my hand across my throat, mimicking him. “But seeing as she had a bullet to the fucking head and several in her chest, I don’t think your theory works,” I grunt, struggling not to beat the shit out of him.

“I think you know what I mean.”

“If you’ve got nothing but a bunch of guesses that you’re trying to trip me up on, I’ll be saying ciao!”

I turn away from him, and Gino opens the back door of my Bentley. Just as I sit down and before Gino closes the door, the detective leans down and says, “Think I’ll be paying the pretty lady a visit. I wonder if she thinks that she’s about to go down for the murder of her lover’s wife will she sing like a pretty little bird.”

I smirk at him and then wink. “You do that. Tell me how it goes for ya.”

Gino closes the door, and I sit back in my seat, closing my eyes. It’s time for a change.

My relocation can’t come soon enough.

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