Page 56 of Greed

“Well, they aren’t giving us anything. They say they don’t know anything. The fucker with the missing tooth sent one of Andrea’s men on a wild goose chase for half the night. The two on the far right spilled information about warehouses that Tony owns and operates from, but we sent two teams, and they found nothing. We’re pretty sure Tony hasn’t moved from wherever he is, ‘cause he’s holed up good, but,” Cosimo raises his voice, “according to these playboys, they don’t know where he is.”

I breathe deeply, calmly. I’ve reached a level of Zen that Bruno would describe as the danger zone. I slowly walk in front of each man, scanning their face. Some look up at me defiantly while others keep their gazes averted as though they fear I’ll strike them. I get to the end of the row and turn to Cosimo.

“Which ones said they didn’t know anything?”

“Well, number two from your right is one of them.”

I nod and take slow, deliberate steps toward him. I stop in front of him, draw my gun, and shoot him in the head, all the while looking at Andrea.

Andrea doesn’t flinch; he glowers at the rest of the men as their “brother” lies dead, slumped in the chair. I hook my shoe on the chair leg and sweep it out, causing him to tumble over, chair and all. I want to make sure they all see his dead body.

I pace slowly in front of the men, making sure they can hear my every word. “I don’t give one flying fuck if you live or die. I assume you have some self-preservation tactic that will eventually override your stubbornness.”

I look at the guy at the end, then start back the other way.

“So I’m going to give you an opportunity to survive this. I like to be on time. I will sit down now, but every twenty minutes from now, I will get up and shoot one of you until one of two things happen. Someone tells me where Tony is keeping his hostages, or you’re all dead.”

I stop at the end again, glaring at the bound men.

“And once I’m done with you, I will kill all your families.”

I walk over to where my men have set up a table and chairs for Andrea and me. They know I’m not bluffing. They’re worried now, even if some retain their defiant looks on their faces. The dead man lies on the floor, a pool of blood forming around his head. His lifeless eyes stare up at the ceiling.

I set the timer on my watch and look at the men who are all looking in my direction. “You have twenty minutes to decide how much you value your life.”

We sit in silence at first, Andrea and I watching the bound men. My men walk back and forth with guns drawn, ready to shoot if anyone moves a muscle. I study each face, wondering which one has the information I need to extract. Some of them have stopped facing us and are staring at the ground. I’m almost certain one is praying. My watch sounds, and I sigh, getting up and looking at Cosimo.

“You said the tooth fairy wasted our time?”

“Yes,” Cosimo says with a deadpan expression.

I nod and walk over, drawing my gun and shooting him in the head. I tip his chair over as well and go back to my seat.

“Twenty minutes more,” I say. I set my watch and look at Andrea.

He looks at me and says in a low voice, “Maybe that’s what we do. Just kill every single one of his men.”

“If someone doesn’t cough up some information, I’m ready to declare war if you are.”

“I am,” Andrea assures me. We keep our voices down.

I look around, and Andrea sighs softly. “So, when you’re not hunting down the fuckers that kidnapped your loved ones, what do you do for fun?”

I smirk and look at him. I look around at our men working together. This family was my sworn enemy days ago, and now we’re united in a common effort, ready to declare war on the biggest gang in the city. And he wants to know what I do for fun.

“This is hardly the time to discuss our love, Andrea,” I tease him.

He chuckles. “I was just starting to like you.”

“When this is all over, I’ll take you out on a real date,” I say. “Once they’re home safely.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he says, tapping his foot. “Perhaps somewhere small and quiet. Like diner food. Diner food is good, right?”

“Wouldn’t know, I generally don’t eat out,” I admit.

“Neither do I. Gia would be offended. She would want to know why the chef’s food is better than hers.”

I grin. “That sounds like her.”