43
Nino swirled the rare cognac in the balloon glass he held, admiring its bright vermillion colour. Holding it under his nose, he blissfully inhaled the silky decadent aroma. At close to fourteen-hundred dollars a bottle, it truly was something to savour and he intended to, if Sally ever got around to the blowjob he desired. It was a true indulgence, cognac and head, a perfect combination, and one he needed tonight, more than desired. With a mind full of irksome issues, he needed a release, and her theatrical prelude was irritating him.
Kneeling between his spread legs as he sat on the buttery-soft Italian leather sofa, she cooed as she alternately stroked and nibbled at his still-clothed erection. It had zero effect on him and his frustration was mounting, both with his troubles and with her. She smiled sexily but, rendered with too-red lips set in a makeup-caked face that would put a two-bit hooker to shame, the gesture annoyed him further. What he wouldn’t give to have a conversation with a woman who understood words with more than two syllables. Unfortunately, they asked questions, and so the stupid ones were easier to deal with. Sally was as vapid as the rest of the women who adorned his house and had lasted longer than most merely due to her lacking a gag reflex.
Noticing how tightly her cocktail dress fit, he frowned. “Jesus, Sally, cut back on the pastries, you’re getting fat.”
Her forehead scrunched in the instant before she apparently remembered her place, and she giggled. “It’s Cindy, silly, and I’m not getting fat. I’m a size six, same as I was when I met you.”
She might be wearing a size six but if the bulging seams were any indication, she wouldn’t be for much longer. In fact, now that he was paying attention to her attire, she looked like a tick ready to pop. She’d definitely gained weight and he’d be damned if he had a fat fuck-toy in his stable.
When Frank entered the room, Cindy looked to him and then turned back to Nino as she pouted. It was a ridiculously over the top rendition of a pout and he wanted to smack it off her face. “Send him away,” she clucked in a cloyingly sweet voice, “you work too hard. Let me take care of you, Daddy.”
He almost shivered at her address. What in the world was going through her head? Glaring at her, he saw how glazed her eyes were, red, too, and he narrowed his. If the dumb bitch was scoring weed on the street when she had access to the best coke in his house, he’d toss her out so fast her painted head would spin. It would explain her eyes though, and her sudden appetite. In disgust, he shoved her back and she toppled onto her ass. Her wide eyes slowly returned to normal size and she looked to the floor before her as she pulled herself into a kneeling position again.
“Don’t tell me how to run my business,” he hissed nastily. “Get out of here but you better be back to finish what you started when I’m ready for it.”
In silence, she got to her feet and, head bowed, headed for the door.
“Close it behind you,” he called after her, “and for Christ’s sake, stay the fuck out of the fridge!”
She left and, although truly a moron, was smart enough not to slam the door in response to what he’d said. Frank drew closer and the look on his face told Nino he had good news to share. Not that Frank was expressive, but the years spent with him gave Nino the ability to read the always-reserved man.
“Pour yourself a cognac and then join me.”
While Nino was good to his men, wine flowing freely during the meals they shared, only Frank was treated to the expensive vintages Nino normally reserved for himself. Then again, Frank was much more than just one of his men. The huge man prepared his drink and then sat in the chair that was kitty-corner to the end of the sofa Nino sat on. He lifted his glass to Nino.
“Salute,” his deep voice sounded.
“Cent’ anni,” Nino responded, and meant it. He would greatly welcome a hundred years of Frank’s company. Then he leaned forward, engaging Frank’s eyes. “You have good news, I take it?”
“Carmine found Kathryn Matthews. He had facial recognition software running on all popular social media sites and got a hit.”
Nino fist-pumped the air. “Grazie a Dio. Where is she?”
“Some backwoods town in Alberta. I’m leaving tonight with a few of the men. She’ll be dead by this time tomorrow.”
“I’m coming with you.”
Frank nodded, and Nino knew his announcement hadn’t surprised the man. Not one to shy from getting his hands dirty, even if Frank willingly did the rough stuff, Nino regularly doled out punishments himself. When it came to Kathryn Matthews, he wanted to pull the trigger. After all the trouble the bitch had caused him, he wanted to watch her die.