“Your wife,” he grunts, licking his lips as he eye-fucks her just to piss me off. “It may not be me, but someone is going to use that to your disadvantage.” He lifts his hips in a salacious way as he stares her down. “And it’s going to hurt, baby. So goddamn—”
His words are cut off when I fire a round into his crotch. Blood blooms from where his hopefully mutilated cock lies in his jeans. He clutches the area in horror.
“Y-You shot my dick, you sick fuck!”
“I know it was the Galanis behind the hit, but I want to know who ordered it,” I bark out, stalking right up to him. “Tell me and I’ll allow you to die quickly unlike your rotten brothers. Keep evading the fucking question and you can live as a cockless roach never to fuck again.”
“You’re fucking blind, Demetriou,” he hisses. “Blind and a damn fool dragging your motherfucking wife here.”
I put another bullet in his thigh. He screams in pain, clutching both his thigh and his dick. “Tell me who ordered the hit.”
“Fuck you.”
Cocking my head at Adrian, I point at Estevan with my gun. “Pull his intestines out through the hole I made in his crotch. Then hang him with them.”
Talia gapes in horror, stumbling back a few feet.
Adrian starts forward and Estevan shakes his head.
“Just shoot me,” Estevan howls, waving his bloody hand in the air at us. “Fucking psychopaths.”
“Okay, then.” I pop off another round, blowing out a huge hunk of flesh in the middle of his palm. “Any more requests, Galani?”
He rolls on his side, writhing in pain. Felix stomps through the door, scowling. “Police are on the way.”
I nod at him. “Deal with them.”
“Sir,” he says before rushing out.
“You’re lucky they’re on their way,” I tell Estevan. “I was going to make you scream a little more before I put you out of your misery.”
“Just s-shoot me,” Estevan says through gritted teeth. “In the fucking head.”
“Tell me what I want to know,” I growl. “And the police won’t have to wonder how to put your mangled cock back together. I imagine they’ll be able to staunch the bleeding and get you to a hospital in time.”
“No,” Estevan moans.
“They’ll try to put it back together, but what a fucking mess, man. You really want to live your life with that messy meat show in your trousers?”
Estevan sobs. “P-Please, Demetriou.”
“Tell. Me.”
“Nikolaides,” he says, darting his eyes to Talia.
She gasps behind me, but I’m not easily fooled.
I won’t be played. So he figured out who she was. Big fucking deal. Not rocket science. She looks just like Niles. I’m not stupid like Estevan thinks.
“Have it your way,” I tell him. “Come, moró mou. Let’s go.”
“No! Kill me, motherfucker! KILL ME!” Estevan cries out. “I told you what you wanted to hear!”
I glower at him. “Exactly. I didn’t want you to tell me what I wanted to hear. I wanted you to tell me the fucking truth.”
He can bleed out or live for all I care. Estevan Galani is a roach. I will squash him eventually, but right now, I’m hunting a rat.
Talia
“What can I get you to drink?” the bartender asks with a flirty grin. Kostas and I have been back home for three days and I’ve had enough of hiding from Aris and being stuck in that damn villa, so I’ve ventured out. The hotel has six pools, each one with its own tiki bar. Aris favors the one on the east side, so I’m at the one on the west side.
“Can you make a strawberry lemonade vodka?” Maybe adding some alcohol to my usual lemonade will help to suppress the constant sense of boredom.
“I can make anything you’d like,” he says.
“And you’ll do it without ogling my wife, or I’ll fire you and then kill you,” Kostas says, having a seat next to me.
The bartender’s eyes widen, and he nods several times. “I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t know she was yours.”
He stumbles over something behind the bar and then goes about making my drink.
“Must you threaten every man who speaks to me?” I twist my head to the side, narrowing my eyes at Kostas. “At this rate, I’ll have nobody to talk to but you.”
“Is it really wise to start drinking at ten in the morning?” he asks, ignoring my question as the bartender sets my drink on the coaster in front of me.
“Would you like anything, sir?” he asks Kostas, who simply waves him off.
“What else do I have to do but drink?” I stand, and taking my drink with me, walk down the cobblestone walkway. I hear Kostas groan in irritation behind me, but I pay him no attention.
“I’m bringing in your father later to speak to him. Would you like to join me?”
“He’s not my father,” I correct. “And yes, I would like to join. Do you believe he put the hit out on your father like that fat man said?” I take a sip of my fruity drink. It’s delicious.