Vittorio
Vittorio gritted his teeth as he watched the stripper dance before him, her coy smile attempting to garner more than just his eyes.
But he wasn’t in the fucking mood to mess with the stripper or anyone else for that matter. It had been a week since he had woken up alone in his grandmother’s house, a week since he had touched Sharon, kissed her. His dreams were haunted by her smile, her touch, to the point where he woke up craving her, sometimes even searching through his apartment just to make sure she wasn’t there.
It was a sad, fucking existence he lived in. At least with Lara, he knew where she had been. After her death he had visited her grave once, in the middle of the night, and cried like a fucking baby.
But then he had pushed those feelings deep down inside him, told her goodbye, and moved on. With Sharon still missing, he didn’t have that opportunity. Until he saw her body, he wasn’t going to believe that she had suffered the same fate.
“He’s here, boss.”
Vittorio nodded at one of his men, stretching his arm along the velvet couch and pretending that he wasn’t raging with anger on the inside. After a week of being on a warpath, he had decided to bring the bastard to him, to have a straightforward conversation with Anafesto and decide, based on his answers, what his next steps would be. Vittorio no longer believed that Rocco was holding Sharon, but that little bit of knowledge didn’t mean that he still didn’t want to destroy the bastard.
Rocco stepped in front of Vittorio, blocking his view. The mob boss looked worse for wear, even dressed in his expensive suit, his expression haggard.
“There you are, you fucking bastard.”
“Nice to see you too,” Vittorio growled, not offering Rocco a seat. “I hear you are looking for me.”
“You set fire to four of my fucking businesses and killed twenty of my men, including Teddy. Of course I am looking for you.”
A shot of satisfaction flooded Vittorio’s body.
“Sounds like you had a bad week.”
One of his men snickered, but Vittorio kept his eyes on Rocco, watching as his skin turned mottled with rage.
“Yeah, I did all of that and some. Is that why you are here? To help me gloat that I am taking your old ass and tearing it apart piece by piece?”
To Rocco’s credit, he didn’t reach for his gun, taking his hands and smoothing back the little hair he had left on either side of his head.
“You know, you are a stupid little snot, aren’t you?”
“I’ve been told that a time or two,” Vittorio shrugged.
Rocco shook his head, a laugh escaping him.
“I heard you are looking for your whore. I don’t have her. I wouldn’t want your used goods.”
“I believe you,” Vittorio said evenly, nearly choking on his words. If the bastard had Sharon, he would have brought her here tonight to gloat about it.
Rocco looked at him, his eyes narrowing.
“Then why the hell are you burning down my shit?”
Vittorio leaned forward, interlacing his hands together.
“Because, you stupid son of a bitch, I want you dead.”
The mob boss stared at Vittorio before bursting into laughter, holding out his arms.
“Well here I am! Why don’t you shoot me now?”
Oh, he wanted to. He wanted to put a bullet right square in his face, watch it explode. He wanted to beat the hell out of him, make him feel all the pain he had put Vittorio through with Lara’s death and Sharon’s sudden disappearance. He wanted to beat him within a square inch of his life and do it all over again.
But it wasn’t the time nor the place. He still had a girl to find and, until he could ensure Sharon’s safety, he would attack Rocco from a distance. Leaning back, Vittorio gave him a cold smile.
“I could you know. I could have you and all your boys’ dead before dawn, but I am enjoying tearing you apart slowly.”
Rocco’s face turned blood red and he dropped his arms.
“I’m telling you one last time, back the fuck off before I get serious.”
Vittorio chuckled.
“And you haven’t been so far? Pity.”
The mob boss turned and walked away, flanked by his guards, giving Vittorio the view once more.
“Should we go after him boss?” one of his men asked, cracking his knuckles.
Vittorio shook his head.
“No. I’m going to do exactly what I told him.”
He didn’t want an easy kill for Rocco. He wanted the man to sweat, to feel like he was losing control over his life. and that of his family, before he took the old man down.
“Follow them. Find out where’s he’s hiding.”
“Got it,” the man said before disappearing from Vittorio’s sight.
Only then did Vittorio let out a breath, feeling no pleasure in what had just happened. This was a vicious, cruel world he lived in and the only slight sunshine he had experienced had been in Sharon’s arms. She had seen past the darkness, past the blood and brutality, and loved him.
That was, as long as he didn’t expose her to the darkness as well.
But now she was gone and he couldn’t find her. Now Rocco was going after everything that Vittorio had, and he couldn’t find the one thing he couldn’t live without.
Vittorio rubbed a hand over his head, feeling suddenly tired. He needed a decent night’s sleep without the fucking dreams. He needed a time to forget that he had this massive hole in his chest where his heart used to sit, to cover up the tender feelings that she had threatened to expose.
Fuck he should have let Rocco kill him. It would be a great deal less painful than what he was going through right now.