Page 16 of Bellini Born

But I had to give credit to those who kept their asses firmly planted in their chairs. They’d been trained well enough to know there was no escape, and it would bring disgrace to their families if they were labeled as cowards. And family was everything. These men would do just about anything to protect their loved ones.

“Should the thief among you wish to step forward, I will grant mercy,” I promised. Though I wasn’t offering absolution, I would provide a quick death instead of one drawn out to inflict maximum pain.

Not a one of them moved a muscle.

“Very well. The hard way, it is.”

Taking my time, I rolled up my shirt sleeves. Then, I crossed both arms over my chest, staring them down for a solid minute before saying, “If you hear your name, move to the wall behind me.” I let a beat of silence pass. “Massimo, Sonny, Vinny, Guilio, Sal, and Rafe.”

Without delay, those six men scrambled from their seats, crossing the room as fast as their legs would carry them, their relief palpable.

Only two chairs remained occupied. One held Dante. The other held Carlo.

Obviously, I knew Carlo was innocent, but I wanted to give Dante one more chance to come clean.

“Gentlemen.” I shook my head as I approached them. “What is it they always say? Speak now or forever hold your peace?” Chuckling darkly, I corrected, “Or in this case, forever burn in Hell.”

Carlo’s throat bobbed on a thick swallow, and he rasped, “Sir, I didn’t have anything to do with the missing money, I swear. Check the logs! I always deposit the correct amount every night.”

My lips pressed into a thin line, my gaze shifting toward Dante. “And what do you have to say for yourself?”

Dante merely lifted his chin defiantly. If I hadn’t already known he was our thief, that would have given him away. Rats didn’t talk; they knew they were dead either way.

“Carlo, to the wall,” I commanded with a jerk of my chin.

A stuttered exhale preceded the sound of his hasty footsteps headed in the opposite direction.

“Dante, Dante, Dante.” His name rolled off my tongue like I was chastising a naughty child. “Was it worth it?”

His upper lip pulled back in a sneer. “Just get it over with already.”

“Nice to see you’re ready to welcome death, but I’m afraid you’re going to have to wait a little while longer,” I taunted.

With a single snap of my fingers, my men moved in to tie Dante to the metal chair bolted to the ground. Like an animal, he scratched and attempted to bite his captors, unwilling to go down without a fight—a fight he was guaranteed to lose.

Once he was properly secured, I got right up in his face. “Where’s my money?”

“Fuck you,” he hissed. Then he reared back and hawked a loogie that landed on my cheek.

Before I could wipe the spit from my skin, Enzo appeared to land a right hook to Dante’s jaw.

Maniacal laughter sounded from the bound man. “At least your brother fought his own battles.”

His insult that I didn’t measure up to Gio fell flat. I was well aware that my older brother was more suited to violence; hell, he fucking craved it in a way I would never understand.

But Gio wasn’t here now. He’d left me in charge, and I’d be damned if I showed an ounce of weakness in his absence, allowing his men to believe I wasn’t worthy of the same respect he commanded as the first-born son.

As far as any of them were concerned, he might never come back. And even if he did, I was never more than one bullet away from stepping into his place, succeeding him as Don for real instead of like the placeholder I was now.

Stalking toward the table of gleaming implements laid out, I selected a pair of pruning shears. Normally, I’d start with a cigar cutter, but I wasn’t sure what Dante was packing below the beltand didn’t want to stop once I got going. The shears would work in severing a multitude of appendages.

Returning to Dante, I gave the handle a firm squeeze, showcasing the power with which the metal blades came together.

“Do your worst.” The fucker sounded almost bored.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

With his hands tied to the arm of the chair, it was easy to grab one of his fingers. Holding it straight, I positioned the pruning shears.