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"The car?"

"Car?" she scoffs, "Girl, you don't call a Mercedes a car! That's like calling a lion a feline!"

I laugh. "Sorry, I won't make that mistake again."

"Here, pick some clothes, let's go." She pushes me toward the suitcase. It's then that I realize both suitcases are Louis Vuitton. “They're yours, too," Gigi nods.

Inside, I find an assortment of intimates that look strangely familiar. It only takes me a few seconds to realize they're the ones Antonio picked out on that website for me.Don't think about the prices, I repeat in my head.

"You're doing it again," she accuses.

"Doing what?" I try to play dumb.

"Thinking about money," Gigi laughs.

"Here," she holds up a tight-fitting red dress.

"We can't go anywhere," I caution.

"Doesn’t mean we can't torture the guards," she replies flippantly.

Passerotta

Make me!

Her challengestill lingers in my mind, curling around my thoughts like smoke. Every time I hear it, I smirk. Probably not the best look to have when you’re in the middle of beating the shit out of a Venezuelan for information, but fuck it.

Even I’m allowed a distraction.

"Where did he take them?" I ask Ricci again.

"Fuck you." His face is a bloody mess; so is my suit. Fuck. That guy bleeds like a stuck pig.

We picked up the Venezuelan from his house. Casimo, the underboss that I left in charge of LA, provided the intel. This guy is one of Matías' cabecillas—regional commanders.

"I don't think this guy knows anything," I turn to Vito.

Vito plays right along. "Some trust Matías must have in his cabecillas if he doesn't inform them about shit like that."

"He's probably not even a cabecilla. Casimo, was your intel wrong?"

Casimo blanches. He doesn’t know me like Vito and doesn't understand that this is a game. "No, boss, I swear, this guy is a cabecilla."

"Hah," I kneel in front of Ricci, pulling out a knife and running it up and down his inner thigh. "Well, are you? Are you a cabecilla, or are you just a lowly soldado?"

His dark eyes flare underneath all the swelling as he lifts his head, "Fuck you."

"So inventive," Vito tsks.

"I don't have time for this shit," I curse. Gigi sent me a text earlier telling me she's hanging out with Scarlet. I only briefly browsed through the list of items she felt compelled to tell me she bought. I'm glad she did, but I'm still going to take her on that little shopping spree I promised her. I despise shopping. But I'm actually looking forward to this trip. I want to see Scarlet's eyes sparkle when she sees what I have planned…

"Boss?" Vito inquires. "You good?"

"No, I'm not fucking good," I reply. "You see, asshole," I lift Ricci's chin with the blade of my knife, "I promised my lady I'dtake her shopping, and you, my friend," I draw the knife over his cheek, making it bleed, "are keeping me from fulfilling that promise. You know what that makes me?"

"Fuck you!" he spits out again.

"Well, that's what I'm hoping to get to after the shopping," I admit, making another cut on the other cheek. "This is making me fucking cranky," I fill him in.