Stephan

“Get in the car,” Alessio growled at me through the open window of the BMW SUV.

My brothers were parked out front of the mansion where I’d just taken Isabella’s virginity. And I had to leave her because, as usual, duty called. If my older brother, Alessio, as much as snapped his fingers, Nino and I were expected to follow.

Nino tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, waiting patiently, while Alessio sat in the passenger seat, his arm rested on the edge of the open window with his usual scowl on his lips. My older brother was eight years older than Nino and me, and he exercised every bit of his authority over us.

I pulled on the handle and got inside the car. “Where are we going?”

“To take care of something,” Alessio shot back, his voice like a growl.

“For Pop?”

Alessio shook his head. “A favor for Parisi.”

Just hearing Isabella’s last name piqued my interest. Even though our fathers kept their distance from each other, my family often dealt with the dirty shit Senator Parisi couldn’t handle himself. “What are we doing for him?”

“Dad sent Tony and Sal to take care of Rizzoli, and they fucked it up. He managed to get away and turn some of our guys against us.” He shifted in his seat to look at me. “You knew better than to go near that girl, and yet we’re cleaning up your mess because of her.”

“I didn’t force Chris on Parisi’s daughter, so I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustrated.

Not even the radio was turned on, an awkward pause filling the air for a few seconds until Nino’s voice cut through the silence. “Dad was looking for you. Where did you go?”

Nino followed the circular driveway, his eyes focused on me in the rearview mirror, as he made his way off the property.

“I was busy,” I spat.

“Busy doing what?” Alessio asked.

I folded my arms across my chest and sank into the leather, staring out the window. “Does it matter? I’m here now.”

“You should have been with us,” Alessio said. “I shouldn’t have to track you down.”

“I answered when you called,” I countered with an attitude. “Drop it, will you?”

I was relieved when he turned around in his seat and stopped nagging me. Alessio had a way of getting under my skin with just one look. After the night I’d had with Isabella, I wasn’t in the mood to listen to my brother tell me what to do.

There was no way I was telling Alessio, of all people, that I was with Isabella. She was off-limits for a reason, which only made me want her more. But she still belonged to me.

Alessio left me alone, no longer pushing me, and I was happy to have the distraction. All I could think about was how I wanted to fuck Isabella next time and really claim her as mine. I’d given her what she wanted, the softer side I didn’t even know existed. She’d asked me not to hurt her because she knew I was an animal. But I saw the same hunger in her eyes.

We drove for close to an hour before we reached the vacant building my father owned. It wasn’t used for anything other than torturing and killing people. Holding as much property as my family did had its perks, and this particular building had been like a second home to me for years.

Nino parked next to the black van at the front of the entrance. We got out of the SUV and strolled across the parking lot to a side entrance. I never asked questions about jobs. There was no point. My brothers and I followed orders and did what we were told without complaint.

We followed Alessio into the dark building. The faint scent of bleach and cigars penetrated my nostrils. Behind a closed door, a man was strapped to a metal table, his bare chest covered in open gashes and blood. Hovered over the table, and dressed in a navy suit and brown wingtips with a clear poncho cover his clothes, was Frank Vitale. With his boyish looks, he didn’t look like a man who used vile methods of torture to break people. But he did. Frank was one of the best in the business.

I tapped Nino on the arm to get his attention. “Frank has this covered. Why are we here?”

He shrugged, keeping his voice low. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

Frank didn’t turn his body, or even acknowledge we’d walked into the room, going about his business as if this were normal. To all of us, this was just another day. Our line of work was dangerous, and we all knew the risks involved. Unlike the other men in the room with us, my brothers and I never had a choice. Our lives were chosen for us at birth.

I stepped closer to the table, with Nino at my side, realizing I knew the man being tortured by Frank. Alessio stood next to Frank, his wicked gaze fixed on the man strapped down. He folded his arms over his chest, his head turned to the side as if he were thinking over what to do with Joe Rizzoli, Chris’ cousin.

“Where’s your low-life cousin?” Alessio asked Joe, his tone unusually calm given the situation.

He refused to answer the question, either out of loyalty or stupidity, or maybe even a combination of both. Joe squirmed when Frank shoved a rolled up cloth in his mouth.

My brother repeated his question one more time, greeted by the same silence, and then ordered Frank to continue cutting at his flesh.

As Joe’s screams filled the room, I didn’t budge, never flinched. I was desensitized to death and blood. I grew up helping my father with things children should never see, at least not until they’re old enough to understand what it means to take a life. But my life wasn’t conventional, far from it.

Five minutes passed, with Frank slicing off parts of Joe’s skin, before Alessio raised his hand to stop him. He removed the rag from Joe’s mouth and growled, “Where the fuck is Chris?”

Nothing again.

Alessio raised his hand, holding up his index finger. “I’ll ask you one more time before I collect your wife and bring her back here. I’ll force you to watch while Frank does the same thing to her. And then I’ll kill her. I might even keep you alive just so you have to live with making the wrong decision. Is that what you want? Tell me where Chris is now, and this can all stop.”

My brother was a liar. Men like us knew there was no way we’d hand over information and walk away unscathed. Joe knew this too, which was why he chose to ignore my brother’s question once more. This wasn’t a dead-end. Even though Joe was fighting the inevitable, he would serve his purpose after his death. Once we dumped his body where Chris would find him, it would cause enough of a stir to draw Chris out of hiding. Or at least that was the plan.

“No, please,” Joe pleaded. His face was bright red with tears of pain streaming down his cheeks. “Don’t touch her. I’ll tell you where Chris is, okay? Just leave her alone.”

Alessio loosened his tie and tugged on his collar, looking bored as he waited for Joe to share Chris’ location.

Joe closed his eyes, his face writhing in pain. “He’s at O’Connell’s.”

The Irishman was protecting him, but he wouldn’t for long.

Satisfied with his answer, Alessio turned away from him, his eyes fixed on Nino and me. He leaned into Frank’s shoulder and gave one final command, before Alessio snapped his fingers at Nino and told him to get the car ready.

Joe was as good as dead, and we all knew it. But at least he’d managed to spare his wife in the process. With Joe on his way out, it was time for us to hunt down Chris Rizzoli and remove him from the equation, all because Robert Parisi wanted him dead.