I watched her fall under a trance caused by the shock of what happened. My coin flipped through my fingers as I tried to think of all the ways I could deal with Jacob and his men. We lived in a ruthless world cloaked in power and money. The fight to stay on top came with a price, and many sacrifices had to be made, but this one went too far. My phone lit up and showed only a number. It was the room number next to ours. Slipping on my suit jacket, I found Vinni at the door. His nod reassured me he wouldn’t leave her side.
Plastic sheeting was a staple in our world. You never knew when a soul would be bought, or blood would be shed. The furniture had been pushed aside, and in the center of the room was one of Jacob’s men tied to a chair, his face sweaty and pale. I recognized him as one of the bodyguards. I stepped on the plastic that covered the floor and made my way over to the chair facing him. I made a show as I slowly unbuttoned my jacket and eased myself onto the chair.
“Typically, I would have ordered my men to dispose of you like the trash you are.” I plucked a piece of lint from the sleeve of my jacket. Each movement I made was deliberate, making him sweat what was coming. “But you have something I want.”
“Which is?” he snarled at me.
“Information.”
“I know nothing.”
“On the contrary, you do.” I changed my tone, hating that Sienna lay next door without me. “I know you knew the contract was dirty. I know that Jacob is working with someone, and you’re going to tell me who.”
“The hell I am, you asshole fool.”
I winced and glanced at Niccola, who shook his head at the idiot in front of me. Words were powerful in our business. They were a representation of how we were perceived and how we expected to be treated in return. These men were dirty, foul-mouthed businessmen. Their lack of class was painfully obvious.
“Well,” I held out my hand, and Niccola handed me a steak knife, “my men tell me you are a fan of playing football. It would be a shame to see you have to take the season off.” His gaze shot down to the knife.
“I’m no snitch.”
“I hear what you’re saying, but…” In a quick jolt forward, I jammed the knife into the side of his knee and leaned back as he screamed and bucked against the ropes that held him in the chair. “This situation can very easily be avoided,” I used my handkerchief to remove the blood from the blade, “with a simple answer. Who is Jacob working for?”
Sweat rolled down his forehead, and his face turned a dangerous shade of red.
“No doubt your heart is now pumping overtime, therefore sending massive amounts of blood to your wound.” I pointed to one of my men who was holding a roll of gauze. “We always have options in life, so choose yours now.”
“Screw you.”
I shook my head, unimpressed with his decision, and reached toward the man on my right. He immediately stepped forward with a pair of shears in his hand. He grabbed hold of two of the bodyguard’s fingers, ready to cut.
“No, no, no!” He bucked, and I held up a finger to pause my man momentarily.
“I’m listening.”
He screamed. He knew I wasn’t messing around. “I don’t know everything,” he tried to catch his breath through his pain, “but what I do know is that he had a meeting with someone three weeks ago and came back saying there was a change in plans. He needed to change the contract because we were working with another side.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don’t know!” His chest heaved, and his eyes rolled back in his head as he began to lose consciousness. My man slapped his face, bringing him back to us.
“Again,” I repeated, “what does that mean?”
“Ah…” He blinked like he was trying to clear his thoughts.
I grew annoyed and tried a different angle. “Was it Stefano Coppola?”
“Who?” He seemed generally confused, and that instantly made me wonder what in the hell was brewing behind the scenes that I wasn’t aware of.
“Enough of this.” I stood and buttoned my jacket. “Carve an E in his chest, film it, and dump him where he can be found.”
I headed back to my room, my mind in turmoil. I needed sleep.
To say I was on edge would be an understatement, and I knew Sienna had keyed in to my mood on the way down to the car in the morning. I must have touched the handle of my gun at least sixty times on the way from the hotel to JFK where my private plane awaited us. Normally, I’d stay in New York and finish off Jacob, but Papa felt strongly that we should return. It wasn’t until we were in the air that I was able to take a full breath and relax a little.
Sienna had admitted to very little sleep at all last night and was curled up on the couch in the back and had finally passed out. I noticed Wyatt seemed uneasy, and I took pity on him. Though I knew I should be working out the schedule of what needed to be done over the next few days with my cousins, I joined him instead, deciding he and I should have the talk now before the wheels hit the tarmac at home.
“Do you need anything?” I signaled for the flight attendant to bring my usual.