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“Surprisingly, I do, and I also have a very interesting piece of footage. Why don’t you see for yourself?”
My phone chimes with a new message alert. I open it, and my stomach knots.
It’s the video footage of Bruno Moretti, collapsed on the ground, face bloodied, eyes wide with fear. I see myself come into the frame, gripping his hair, shoving the barrel of my gun deep into his mouth. He whimpers and I pull the trigger, his blood and brains spattering all around.
My pulse pounds in my ears like war drums. Heat flares through my chest, burning, suffocating and obstructing my air flow.
How the fuck did this bastard get this video? How the hell did he even know about Bruno Moretti and I?
My hand runs through my already disheveled hair, stopping to claw at the strands in confusion.
“Speechless now, Donatelli? I thought so.”
“How the fuck did you get this?”
A low chuckle fills my ears from the other end of the phone.
“Oh, those idiots called the Morettis. I’m so glad you helped me get rid of the nuisance. They really thought I’d keep my promise of investing in their stupid trafficking…”
“You planned this with the Morettis?”
“Of course, I planned all of it with the small mafia gang I found while searching for any dirt on you. Your warehouse scandal, which you brilliantly swept under the carpet, that was me. I asked Bruno Moretti to set up the abandoned building where you rendezvoused with a CCTV camera, hence the footage, and ta-da. Here we are. The unintelligent whistleblower, Mendez, or whatever you guys called him, and that Luis who worked for you…sad leverages.”
My teeth grind against my jaw, “You bastard!”
“Come off it, Donatelli, you’re no saint yourself…”
I slam the phone down so violently that the desk trembles. My hands tremble, too, not with fear, but with barely restrained fury. I want to rip through the screen, reach into the void, and wrap my hands around Marcus Winston’s smug throat until he stops breathing.
“Spit it out now. What do you want?”
“It’s a no-brainer, Elio. I used to be the top businessman in hotel chains in NY before you came along. My investors started seeing you as a better option, and many of them have been pulling out to invest in your new AI innovation. My profits are plunging. I want back what’s mine.”
I exhale sharply. “You just made the biggest mistake of your life.”
“No, you made the mistake, Elio. I just happened to capture it. Now, here’s what happens next. You transfer to me your entire share of that beautiful AI-powered hotel chain of yours. I’m going back to occupying the number one spot in the hotel and entertainment scene where you pushed me off from, and you’re going to help me get back up there by returning all my investors, and your stocks, to me.”
A scoff escapes my lips but he doesn’t let me say a word.
“By the way, Donatelli, there will be no discussions or negotiations. You have seven days. If I don’t have the papers by then, the world sees this video.”
“Was it also you who raised dust about Frank Paterson?"
“What…No, no. It seems you have other troubles besides me, Donatelli. I’m a businessman. I only do what’s absolutely necessary to save my business.”
My fingers dig into the desk. Every muscle in my body coils tightly, my mind racing with violent possibilities. My blood boils with the need for destruction.
“I’ll see you, Donatelli.” The line clicks dead.
“Fuck!” I stare at my phone, chest heaving.
This bastard just signed his own death warrant.
Chapter thirty-two
Aria
Since that day at my father’s place, I started staying at Mia’s. Since then, I have also avoided both my dad’s and Elio’s calls. And since then, I have been doing nothing but tossing and turning in bed, thinking of what was...is and what could have been.