There is a knock on the door. Sergio, assuming its housekeeping, yells out, “Come back later!”
Another knock, this time louder, more insistent. Annoyed, Sergio quickly drinks the rest of his wine, hastily puts the glass down, and strides to the door.
Sergio peers out of the peephole. Nick is standing outside the door, his hands in his coat pockets. Sergio flings open the door and growls, “Where the fuck have you been?”
“Pleasure to see you too, Sergio,” Nick responds, a sarcastic edge to his voice.
“I’ve been waiting for you to contact me all fucking day,” Sergio seethes, the two glasses of wine only fueling his anger. “Kept me waiting like a fucking bitch!”
“Can we talk about this inside?” Nick asks calmly, while pushing his way through. He walks into the hotel suite, looks around, assessing the environment. This will be easy, he thought.
“You better fucking start talking. You brought me here, told me there was a serious problem as to why you can’t finish McCall off. So, what’s the problem?” Sergio demanded, staring at Nick.
Nick says nothing, only stares back at Sergio, unblinking, his hands still buried in his coat pockets. Sergio chuckles, shaking his head, pointing his finger at Nick, and says, “You, my friend, are a strange one.” Sergio laughs out loud, walks back to the bar to pour himself another glass of wine.
Nick stares at the red wine, flashbacks of Vincent Rossi’s blood soaked shirt still so vivid in his mind after all these years.
Sergio glances at Nick while he pours another glass, notices him staring. “Would you like a glass?” Sergio offers, not really wanting to share a drink with this asshole, but thought he ought to at least offer.
“No thank you,” Nick says briskly, looking away.
Sergio shrugs his shoulders, and takes a long drink. He puts the glass down, looks at Nick, his brow furrowing, tilting his head to the side.
“Wait a minute….. che cazzo?……. How the fuck did you know where I was staying?”
Nick doesn’t answer. He merely walks to the window, takes a quick glance at the view, and begins to close the drapes.
“What are you doing?” Sergio asks, alarmed. Buzzed, he fumbles with his glass, trying to move quickly to the bedroom to get his pistol.
Sergio is too slow. Before he even realizes it, Nick is in his face, the end of his gun jutting into Sergio’s carotid artery.
“What am I doing?” hissed Nick. “I’m going to blow your fucking brains out, that’s what I’m going to do!” Nick spits in his face, the look of repulsion and disgust on Sergio’s face only makes Nick want to do it again. So he does, one long stream of spit rolling down the side of Sergio’s cheek.
Sergio lunges forward, his fear and anger rising inside him, like a boil ready to spew forth its puss. He pushes Nick as hard as he can, throwing him to the floor. Sergio tries to pin Nick down, but Nick is agile, and quickly gets up, the gun pointed dir
ectly at Sergio’s chest, ready to fire.
Sergio raises his hands up in defeat, his eyes bulging with fear. “Per favore! Please don’t shoot! I’ll give you whatever you want.”
“What I want?” Nick asks incredulously. “Sergio, you stupid fuck. What I want is to kill you. I was there when you’re fucking father died. That motherfucker tried to kill me. Now I’m going finish this off,” Nick says matter-of-factly. “Once and for all. Time to die, asshole.”
Nick pulls the trigger, the bullet piercing Sergio’s chest, ripping through flesh and tendons and muscle, the pain so utterly unbearable that Sergio, in that instant, wishes for death.
Nick walks over to Sergio, his body collapsed on the hardwood floor. He stands over Sergio, smiling down at him, watching the life slowly fade away from Sergio’s eyes. Nick feels at peace now, both father and son dead.
Nick calmly picks up Sergio’s cell phone, turning it off and then placing it in his coat pocket, and leaves the hotel suite without a backwards glance. He closes the door behind him, already thinking about his next victim – the lovely, sweet Katherine Harris.
Chapter 33
Caprice enters the elevator, exhilarated from shopping. Shopping has that effect on her. The entire shopping experience is a pleasure for Caprice. Touching the clothes, looking at beautiful things, sales associates waiting on you hand and foot. It was definitely Caprice’s scene.
While at Harrods, she had purchased an Armani blue silk blouse, a beautiful black La Perla bra encrusted with Swarovski crystals, and two pairs of Loubatins. Caprice was pleased with her new purchases and couldn’t wait to show it all off to Sergio.
The elevator arrives to the penthouse suite floor and Caprice steps off the elevator, her hips swaying. Unable to resist, the male elevator attendant sticks his head out, watching Caprice as she walks towards the room.
Caprice saunters into the hotel suite, swinging her bags. “Sergio!” she calls out. Caprice places her bags down, quickly checks her reflection in the mirror.
“Sergio, bell’umo. I’m back,” Caprice says. Nothing. Frowning, Caprice walks to the living area and stops in her tracks.