Page 65 of Knocked Up by My Dad's Mafia Boss

I sigh and move the scalpel to the thumb on his left hand, this time. Pop it up even as he struggles and screams. Blood trickles down the chair arm and drips onto the floor.

“I knew that, too. You’re starting to bore me, Pete. And do you know what happens to bulldogs when they get bored?”

He yelps, tears running down his face. Doesn’t respond otherwise. I finish anyway.

“They become a little… destructive.”

I start to unlace one of his shoes and he kicks and fights against the restraints, rocking the chair slightly. “Please, man, I have a daughter,” he sobs, and I pause, looking up at him. His eyes widen. “Six months old.”

I wait, watching his face. He swallows, licking his lips and leaning forward as if to convince me. “Do you have kids?”

“No.”

I tug off his shoe, toss it behind me. It thuds against the steel door.

“Okay, okay! There’s more!”

“Thought there might be.” I glance at my watch. It’s only been ten minutes and two thumbnails. Luciano really knows how to pick them.

“I don’t know who the rat is,” he says, but quickly continues. “He won’t tell us, but I know it’s somebody close. An enforcer.”

I suspect Elio’s already narrowed it down to his inner circle. That’s why he suspected me.

There’s five of us, even though over the last few years, I’ve done most of the work. Me, Ricardo, Oscar de Luca, Marco Tucci, and Leo Dal.

Oscar’s dead and it’s not me.

Ricardo’s unlikely because he’s been watching over Samantha, just like me. That leaves Marco and Leo.

Narrows it down quite a bit.

I grin at Pete and he seems to relax slowly, wide shoulders slumping. “Guess I won’t have to take your toenails after all. You’ve been a real help, Pete.” I stand up, clapping my left hand on his shoulder.

“Th-thank you,” he stutters. “Thank you, thank you.”

I slit his throat with the scalpel in my other hand and his gratitude turns into gurgles as blood soaks his white shirt. I watch him as he bleeds out, the sound of the bolted chair rocking and his wheezing and gurgling the only sound in the room.

I step back as the blood starts to flow toward me. It’s almost mesmerizing as it circles the drain.

I snap out of it, shaking my head again. I’m off my game. I step out of the panic room. I’ve managed to keep my hands clean.

Relatively.

I head to the downstairs bathroom to wash my hands, picking blood out from under my thumbnail with my other one. As I walk up the stairs to get dressed to go with Elio, Samantha’s coming down. She hesitates on a step, her eyes meeting mine.

She doesn’t speak. Neither do I. Feels almost wrong to speak to her after what I just did. I give her a slight smile, though, and she smiles back. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

Something’s wrong.

The thought hits me like a freight train, but there’s nothing specific I can put my finger on.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“Sofia isn’t exactly the best bedfellow.”

I tick my head toward my room. “You’re welcome to sleep there if you’d like. I”ll be out all night.”

She frowns. “A job?”