Page 58

I hold up my hand to stop them. Yanking the handkerchief from the welt pocket of my suit jacket, I calmly wipe at my devil’s mask.

Scum like Sigler can’t faze me. I’ve dealt with worse in my time.

I’m far too disciplined to allow temper tantrums like his to anger me.

“Benjamin Sigler, you proved what I already suspected,” I say. “Your bloodline is tainted. The first sign was your pathetic, lying, treacherous brother being a turncoat for a few extra dollars. No man of honor would ever do such a thing. Which is why he got what was coming to him.”

“My brother did what he had to do!” Benji screeches, blood and spittle flying from his mouth. “He wanted to be paid his worth. Tuco was willing to do that!”

“Weak men make foolish decisions chasing money. Wise men know how to make money. That’s the difference,coglione.”

“The reporter! I’ll tell you who it is!”

It’s a last ditch effort on his part as he jerks against his restraints in the chair. His eyes bounce wildly from me to Adagio to Maurizio in search of some mercy. For one of us to give him credit for his last-minute concession.

“My phone!” he says. “Her number’s saved there! If… if you spare me… I’ll lead you to her! She’s the one you want!”

“Give me.”

I hold out my hand.

For a split second, hope shines on Benjamin Sigler’s face. He misunderstands, believing I’m asking for his phone.

But he’s wrong.

I’m asking for the pliers in Maurizio’s hands. He passes them over and I’m the one stepping forward to jam the pair into Sigler’s mouth.

His screams bounce off the walls for minutes to come.

The amount of blood borders on preposterous. It getseverywhere.

His tongue refuses to come out. We eventually settle on a pair of industrial shears that cut it right out and send it flopping to the floor.

Sigler squeals like a pig, his body wild in the chair.

I kick the tongue halfway across the room like it’s a soccer ball, amused by how it leaves a trail of bloody slime wherever it goes.

“Diavolo, your phone,” Adagio says.

I’ve been having so much fun it hasn’t registered that my phone’s been ringing from my pocket.

“Finish him,” I order, withdrawing the device and glancing down at the screen.

My insides twist into knots.

I recognize the number immediately. I answer before the next ring can finish.

“Portia?” I say, flipping on a dime. I’m no longer Diavolo despite the mask. I’m Rafael again, listening to the panicked breath she lets out on the other end of the phone. “Portia, what’s wrong?”

“Rafael, I’m… I’m so sorry to call you,” she gasps between words. “I wouldn’t have… but… but my apartment… no one else has answered… and I… I’m not sure…”

“Not sure about what? Find somewhere safe and I’ll be there in a few minutes.” I rip off my devil’s mask and press the mute button for final orders to the other two. “Finish him off and meet me at Portia’s apartment. Something’s going down.”

“Diavolo, are we going to talk about how she’s the one Sigler was snitching to?” Adagio raises a brow, asking the obvious question out of this situation.

“Later. Do as I say.”

I’m gone in the next second, rushing out of the room to make it to Portia.