Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Taking out security takes all of five minutes. We leave their bodies in plain view as we storm the garages and find the chop shop workers hunkered down behind their ripped-up vehicles. I have Seamus and his troops zip-tie them up, all according to Valentina’s vision, and kick in the back office.
Former Santoro Capo Sal Villanueva’s got dark, slicked-back hair, a grease-stained dress shirt, and a gut that doesn’t seem interested in staying contained. The guy’s the definition of a stereotypical Italian mafioso. He’s got his arm in a safe, and he’s in the middle of shoving cash into a bag when we find him. Basically, it’s a pants-around-the-ankles situation. Valentina expected more of a fight from him, but the old Capo clearly isn’t what he used to be.
“Take a seat, Sal,” I tell him, holding a gun aimed at his face. He’s smart and also a criminal, so he does what he thinks will keep him alive.
He sits down and starts flipping. “I can give you names and numbers. All the guys that work with me. All my buyers. But they’re in my head, you hear me? You kill me, you get shit.”
“Who says I want your buyers, huh?” I smile at him and sit in the chair across from his desk. “Come on, Sal, think for a minute. What’s an Irish prick like me doing here?”
“I don’t know.” He’s visibly sweating. I don’t blame him. Valentina said once he was beaten, all I had to do was apply a little pressure, and he’d give me whatever I wanted. I decide she’s right.
“Tell me about Valentina Santoro.”
He’s not good at hiding his shock. He sits still, not moving, and glances toward the door. Outside in the garage, Niall’s overseeing Seamus and his guys as they comb the place for anything worth selling.
“What do you want with the Don’s daughter?”
“Former Don. Very dead Don. Tell me what you know about her.”
“She’s smart,” he says and frowns at me. His eyebrows knit together. “Don’t tell me she’s involved with this?”
“Focus up, Sal. Tell me about her.”
“Like I said, smart girl. Her father loved her. I mean, not her real father, but if you said that shit around him, he would’ve kicked your fucking ass, so nobody talked about it. But we all knew.”
Adopted. Interesting. I didn’t know, and it didn’t matter, but it was worth making note of it. “What else?”
“Luciano kept her close. He was grooming her, I guess. We thought it was weird, you know, not even your own blood, and a fucking girl, but treating her like she was going to be Don one day. Like that’d ever fucking happen.”
“Did you like her?”
“All the boys did. I mean, the girl’s good looking, right? But she was also personable. What the fuck is this about?”
“Nothing,” I say, glancing back toward the garage. Niall and Seamus look like they’re finishing up out there. “Just want to get to know her more, that’s all.”
“I mean, I got stories about the girl.” He sounds scared now. “She was mouthy. Hard to deal with. But you know—”
I stand and shoot him in the head. His skull and brain matter mist against the wall behind him.
Nobody in the other room flinches. They knew what was coming. Hell, I think Sal knew too.
I’m not sure why I asked him about Valentina. The girl’s worming herself deep into my head. It must be the sorry state of her apartment getting to me—otherwise, I never would give a crap about her.
I head back out into the main room. Niall drags a man in zip-ties over. He’s older, in his early fifties, with gray hair and hard eyes. “This is Rich. Say hello to Ronan Hayes.”
“Hello,” Rich says.
“He runs the shop floor, like a sort of manager, right, Rich?” Niall nudges him, and Rich nods. “Rich likes living. He has a family. Right, Rich?”
“Two girls,” he grunts.
I put my gun away. “I assume you want to keep breathing, right, Rich? You want to see those girls grow up and give you grandkids?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Then you work for me now, and so does everyone else here. You’re going to convince them. The work keeps going, the money keeps flowing, and everyone gets a little bonus too. How’s that sound, Rich?”
He glances toward the office. Sal’s corpse is visible behind the glass. “Sounds fine,” he says.
“Wonderful. Niall, get rid of the cuffs. Let’s start making sure our new employees understand the situation, shall we?”
As Rich talks his business associates into getting on board with the change in management, I think about my ulterior motives. I think about my cousin problem, about factions in factions, and about Valentina back in her apartment, right on the cusp of starvation. I think of neat plans and ciphers and smart girls, and I wonder if maybe we can’t solve a whole lot of problems, if only we start working together.