“I think for the first time in my life I envy you your lack of emotions.”
CHAPTER 20
REMO
“If they don’t arrive soon, I’ll start without them. I don’t give a fuck if it offends Luca fucking Vitiello or not,” Fabiano growled as he stood over his father, who lay on his side on the ground, mouth taped, arms and legs bound together. He stared up at his son with terror-widened eyes.
“They’ll be here any second,” I muttered.
I could tell Fabiano was barely listening. He was too focused on his father. He’d waited a long time for this moment. Fuck, I got it. I’d do anything for a chance to torture my father to death. I still remembered the fucking day I found out my traitorous half-brother had killed the asshole, something I’d dreamed of since I understood our father wasn’t the invincible god he made himself out to be. That he could, in fact, be killed. Since I was a fucking kid, I’d dreamed of erasing our father from our lives ...
If there were a Hell, I’d walk straight down into it to make a deal with the Devil so he’d give me the chance to kill the man just once. Maybe twice.
“Not the scrawny boy you can torture for your own amusement anymore, am I?” Fabiano murmured as he crouched in front of the other man. I prided myself on my scary smile, but Fabiano’s expression surpassed everything. He’d enjoy today.
The door creaked open, and Fabiano straightened. Nino came in, followed by Matteo and Romero. I had been surprised when Luca had told me he’d send them but not come himself. I supposed he had less reason to tear into Scuderi than the others. He had been gifted Aria because Scuderi sold his daughters off like cattle, and anyone could admit Aria was a very nice gift. An image of another woman with blond hair and blue eyes entered my mind, uninvited. I shoved it down.
I’d set her free.
“Nothing better than bonding over shared torture,” Matteo said with a grin as he sauntered into the cell in the basement of the Sugar Trap. That asshole always looked as if he’d walked straight out of a photo shoot for a fashion magazine. One day I’d fuck up his pretty face. Romero gave me and Fabiano a curt nod before his eyes, too, fell on Scuderi.
I pushed off the wall and extended my hand to Matteo, who took it after a moment.
“I still can’t stand your fucking face, Remo,” he said with a smirk. “But for this I might hesitate a millisecond before cutting your throat once we’re back to being enemies.”
“That millisecond will be the moment I’ll cut your head off, Matteo,” I said with a twisted smile of my own.
He released my hand. “May the craziest fucker win.”
My smile widened and I caught Nino’s gaze across the room. We both knew who that would be because when it came to crazy fuckery I was the undisputed master.
I turned to Romero, who didn’t display the careless attitude of Vitiello. He obviously was wary about being in a basement in Vegas. I didn’t have the slightest intention to attack either of them today. War with the Famiglia would have to wait until the Outfit was crushed and its territory split between us.
He briefly shook my hand. “Your methods are dishonorable,” he said tersely.
“You disapprove of them and yet here you are ... benefiting from them.”
Romero pulled his hand away, his brown eyes returning to Scuderi and his expression filling with hate.
I went over to Scuderi and smiled down at him. His eyes flickered with terror. “I must say you’ve gathered many enemies over time, and we’ve all come together to tear you apart.”
I reached down and ripped the tape from his face then straightened and returned to my spot at the wall. Maybe his agonized screams would drown out the voice of regret in my head.
Serafina walking away in that fucking white dress and that last look she gave me. Fuck it all.
Fabiano circled his father. “Father, I’ve been waiting for this chance for a very long time, and I have every intention of making it last for as long as possible. Lucky for me, Nino is a master at prolonging torture. With a little luck we can keep you alive for two or three days. That way we can all get the fun we deserve.”
Scuderi tried to push himself into a sitting position but failed. His expression became pleading. If he thought that would warm Fabiano’s heart, he didn’t understand what Fabiano did on a daily basis as my Enforcer. “I’m your father, Fabi. You already lost your mother. Do you want to lose me as well?”
Fabiano lunged, smashing his fist into the man’s face. Bones crunched. I watched from my spot against the wall. This wasn’t my moment. Despite my need to maim and kill, I’d hold back. Matteo, Fabiano, and Romero had more reason to spill Scuderi’s blood.
“Shut up,” Fabiano snarled.
Matteo had begun twisting a Karambit knife in his fingers, an eager gleam in his eyes I knew all too well.
“I’ve got small kids who need me,” Scuderi tried in a hoarse voice.
Fabiano lifted him by the collar and jerked him up against the wall, getting in his face. “They’ll be better off without you. My sisters and I would have that’s for sure.”
Nino put a chair down in the center of the room, and Matteo helped Fabiano drag Scuderi over to it. They tied him up despite his struggling.
His beady eyes found me. “Remo, you are Capo. I could be of use to you. I know everything about the Outfit and Dante. If you let me live, I’ll tell you everything.”
Fabiano scoffed as he pulled his knife from the holster around his chest.
I smiled cruelly at the disgusting bastard before me. “You will reveal everything I want to know. I know you’re in very capable hands that will coerce every truth out of you.”
“Oh we will,” Matteo said with his fucking shark grin. He stepped up to Fabiano, and they exchanged a look. Then Matteo leaned over Scuderi and brought the knife down on his chest. “Gianna sends her regards. I told her I’d let you suffer, and I will.”
Matteo left a long cut across Scuderi’s chest, making the bastard scream like a fucking coward.
Romero moved up to Scuderi after that. He wasn’t holding a knife in his hand. He smashed his fist into Scuderi side twice then into his stomach. Some men preferred to dish out pain with their fists, others with a cold blade. I enjoyed either, depending on my mood and what my opponent feared more.
“You gave Lily to a fucking old bastard so you could get a child bride for yourself. You’re a disgrace of a father.” He punched the man again.
Fabiano took over. “I hope you will spend your last hours considering that not a fucking soul on this planet will be sorry you’re gone. If you find time for sane thoughts between the agony.” He inflicted a long cut on the man’s arm. The sight of the red rivulets trailing enticingly over bare skin made my body hum with excitement. Fuck, I wanted to spill blood, dish out agony. I wanted to fucking destroy someone.
Nino leaned beside me. It wasn’t time for him to help yet, and his attention was on me, not the scene in the center of the cell.
“Stop the assessment,” I said in a low voice.
Nino narrowed his eyes slightly but complied and finally turned toward the torture. Matteo, Romero, and Fabiano took turns beating and cutting Scuderi until his screams and begging filled the cell.
After a few hours, Fabiano, covered in blood and sweat, indicated for Nino to get involved. My brother rolled up his sleeves and after another lingering glance at me, he moved toward the medical kit that would ensure Scuderi didn’t die too soon.
Romero leaned against the wall. Matteo and Fabiano had taken turns torturing Scuderi over the last hour, and I had a feeling they’d be the ones to deal with him in the remaining hours of his life. My own body hummed with the need to destroy, the need to give pain and feel pain, to fill the fucking void in my chest.
My body screamed for sleep, but except for a few toilet breaks, I stayed in the cell while Fabiano dealt with his bastard of a father. It wouldn’t be much longer.
Fabiano’s shoulders heaved as he stared down at his father. The man was breathing shallowly.
Fabiano turned to me, blood splatters dotting his face. His naked chest was completely coated with it. Our eyes met. “Remo...will you...?” His voice was hoarse.
I pushed away from the wall and walked up to him, not sure what he was asking of me. Fabiano clutched the bloody knife in a death grip, the look in his eyes reminding me of the boy I’d found in Bratva territory many years ago— a boy desperate for death because his father had taken everything from him.
Nino motioned for Matteo and Romero to leave, and with a last look at me, he closed the door. Fabiano swallowed before he held out his forearm with the Camorra tattoo. “You gave me a home. A purpose. You treated me like a brother...” He glanced down at his father. “Like family. I know you wanted nothing more than to kill your father and had that taken from you. I know it’s not the same, but...will you help me kill my father?”
I linked arms with Fabiano, clutching his forearm tightly. “We aren’t blood but we are brothers, Fabiano. I’ll walk through fire for you.” I stared down at the fucker who’d wanted his own son dead then back up to Fabiano. “And there’s nothing I’d rather do than kill him with you. It’s an honor.”