29
Aurielo
We hadn’t been able to nab Don Bianchi, but snagging his second in command, Matteo is no less a victory.
He’s tied up on a chair in the basement, in a holding cell.
Imprisoned.
He’s awaiting my interrogation.
Alessandro has already given me command over the situation. Being too close to a criminal can be all-consuming. But I want Matteo to feel the same dread and trepidation that I experienced last night at his boss’s hands.
I stomp down the stairs and pause. Giovan is standing guard outside Matteo’s prison cell. Not that we anticipate him escaping, but you can never be too careful.
We’re more concerned that he might hang himself or find another way to commit suicide and avoid an extensive and excruciating interrogation.
Giovan pulls me aside, his voice low so that the monster can’t hear what’s being said.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Giovan asks.
I cast a quick glance at Matteo and then back at Giovan. “Are you suggesting that I’m incapable of keeping a level head?”
He cracks a grin. Giovan would never suggest such a thing. He would, however, remind me not to go easy on a criminal that we’ve captured.
And I have no intent on being generous or kind. We’re not cops or feds. There’s no jurisdiction or code of honor bullshit to worry about. It’s what makes my methods infallible.
“I’m sure his good looks or charisma won’t sway you,” Giovan jokes.
A smile doesn’t reach my lips.
Although I feel relieved that we caught Matteo, how we got to him, I wasn’t part of the mission. I’d been too busy enrolling Ashton into kindergarten at the private school.
If I had been on hand for the takedown, I’d have put a bullet in Matteo’s head. He’d have never made it to the compound for an interrogation.
Another set of heavy footsteps resonate down the stairs.
I glance over my shoulder at Francesco.
He gives me a nod. Everything is fine. Karina and Ashton are upstairs, safe. I called him the moment I found out I had an interrogation to handle. The last thing I want is Karina getting wind of what we’re doing.
Knowing and seeing are two completely different things.
“You need help with him?” Francesco asks. “A little muscle to beat the truth right out of him? It’s been a few days since I got my hands dirty.”
Francesco doesn’t even sugarcoat it.
He wants blood for blood. The Bianchi’s threatened Karina and Ashton, my family, which is a threat directly to the Rinaldi family.
I want Matteo dead.
* * *
Blood drips from my knuckles as I slam my fist into Matteo’s jaw.
It’s not the least bit of a fair fight, with his arms tied behind his back and restrained to a chair.
No one said anything we ever did was fair or honorable.