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“Do you know who I am?”

His throat bobs as he swallows hard. “Yes.”

“Then you know why I’m here.”

He flinches, his eyes darting to Matteo. When he finds no sympathy there, he turns back to me, desperation creeping into his expression.

“I—I don’t know anything,” he stammers. “Please, I swear, I?—”

I sigh, shaking my head. “That’s not true.”

I stand, letting silence press in around us. Suspense can be just as deadly as any weapon. I let it stretch, let the weight of it settle over him.

When I finally speak, my voice is calm.

“You know, I’ve dreamt about the attack on the dock every night since it happened,” I say. “And when I wake up, I try to picture my enemies. I think about what I’ll do to them when I finally have them in front of me.”

“Mr. Rossi. I swear. I had no choice.”

“The Caldarones are a big family,” I continue, ignoring him. “So many faces, so many people to hold accountable. It’s hard to picture just one.”

I pause, then lean in slightly.

“But you know whose faceisn’thard to picture? Yours. Because you were there that night.”

“I didn’t know they were going to-”

I move behind him, placing my hands on his shoulders. He stiffens, but I press my thumbs into the tension there, massaging lightly instead of tightening my grip. “It wasyouwho led us to that container,” I murmur. “Youwho opened the door and unleashed hell on me and my men.”

“So when I picture the people I need to kill…your face comes to mind pretty damn clearly.”

“Mr. Rossi”

“And while you were wasting time and resources trying to hide from me, I spent mine learning more about you.” I chuckle, stepping around front so he can see my face. “It’s cute that your wife likes to shop. Macy’s, right? Spends a lot of time there on Saturdays.”

The color drains from his face.

I tilt my head, watching him unravel. “I also know about your daughter,” I continue, my voice calm, deliberate. “She’s what—six? Goes to St. Mary’s Elementary? Bright kid, from what I’ve heard.”

His breath shudders. “Please,” he whispers, his voice breaking.

I hold up a hand, cutting him off. “Relax. Nothing’s happened to them.” I pause, letting my next words settle like a slow-moving blade.

“Yet.”

Silence. The kind that suffocates. I let it stretch until the tension coils so tight that I can practically hear his heartbeat.

Then I laugh, shaking my head. “How stupid do you have to be to make an enemy of the Paolo family andnotprotect your own?”

The man frowns, biting his lower lips. “I…”

“Oh, that’s right,” I chuckle, shaking my head. “Youdidhire protection. Some inexperienced goon, wasn’t it? Jeremy, Tom, and-” I turn to Matteo.

“Alex,” Matteo supplies smoothly. “He’s the one we skinnedalongwith that tacky dragon tattoo of his.”

Tears well in the dockman's eyes, his head shaking in silent denial before the sobs break free. Like a child.

“I swear,” he chokes out, his voice cracking. “I…I don’t know much.”