Page 33 of Broken Mafia Prince (His to Break #1)

RAFFAELE

“ T here’s a mole in our ranks,” I say slowly, studying Tommaso’s reaction. If there’s anyone aware of someone betraying me, it’ll be him, whether it’s just a rumor or not.

His jaw clenches. “Boss, I?—”

“The next words out of your mouth better be the name of the bastard, Tommaso,” I say coldly. “Or you might just take his place.”

My right-hand man swallows. “There’s no evidence yet, but I’ve heard rumors that Bobby Morricone has been sneaking around,” he admits. “He disappears for extended amount of times and he’s been spending more than he’s worth.”

All clear signs that he’s been doing some extracurricular activities, but I can’t kill him based on rumors and his strange activities.

For all I know, he could have made it big on the betting machine.

But then again, Bobby isn’t the sort of person who wins the lottery and doesn’t tell the whole world about it.

“Where can I find Bobby right now?” I rise to my feet, buttoning my suit jacket.

“He’s downstairs, supervising the offload of liquor.”

“Tell him I want to speak to him, and make it clear that it’s urgent.” Before he can leave my office though, I stop him in his tracks. “Make sure he doesn’t get panicked and run scared. I want him as calm as possible.”

My right-hand man nods and slips out of the room. My mind shifts back to Giulia almost immediately. At this point, I’m used to her occupying every inch of my head, and I have also come to see that there is no use fighting it. The harder I try, the harder my mind brings up memories of her.

I’m snapped out of my reverie by my second’s voice. “He’s waiting in the basement, boss.”

I nod and march out of the room, Tommaso trailing after me. I nod in acknowledgment when I walk past the construction guys doing the finishing touches on the club. I can see my manager gesticulating wildly while speaking on his phone.

The basement room is accessed through a concealed staircase at the back.

In fact, only people who know that there’s something back there can find it, because the door and walls lap together perfectly and fade into each other.

I walk down the short metal staircase leading to the basement and find Bobby leaning against a side of the wall, sucking on a cigarette.

“Boss.” He straightens as soon as he sees me.

“Morricone.” I nod. “I’ve never seen a man look so relaxed this close to his death.”

Just like I expect, he stills, eyes going wide and swinging between me and Tommaso. “I-I d-don’t understand, boss. Death? I haven’t done anything.”

“Haven’t you?” I drawl, anger building inside me. On the outside though, I’m as cool as ice. Even though I feel like just firing a few rounds into his empty skull, I know that won’t help me.

Not only do I need to extract information from him, but I need to send a clear message that this is what happens when you try to go behind my back and fuck around.

Giulia could have been seriously hurt last night, all because of one man’s greed.

I can tolerate a lot of things, but selling out your honor isn’t one of them.

“I haven’t,” he says. “I’ll never betray this family.”

“Wouldn’t you?” I step forward.

Bobby swallows as I continue to walk forward until I’m standing right before him.

I look him right in the eyes and give him his last chance to say the truth.

“You’re not walking out of here alive, Morricone, but the next words out of your mouth determine if you die fast or excruciatingly slowly. So what’s it going to be?”

For a moment, I see defeat on his face, but he decides to be far stupider than I’d have ever thought. He raises his head high, looks me in the eye, and seals his fate.

“I haven’t betrayed you, boss. I’ll never betray you. I’m not a fucking traditore .”

I allow my mouth to curve into a smile. “You made your choice,” I tell him gravely then glance over my shoulder at my second, igniting the traitor’s desperate words. “Get me the briefcase.”

I’ve long since come to terms with the fact that there’s a part of me that’s just as sadistic as my father, or maybe more.

The first time I watched my father torture a snitch half to death, I hadn’t felt disgusted or horrified; there was only the briefest flicker of impatience about the entire process.

Now, my blood thrums in anticipation of the pain I’m about to inflict on this lying bastard, knowing that he deserves everything he’s about to get.

“Boss, I swear, I didn’t…” His complexion turns a little green at the contents of the torture briefcase.

“ You have three seconds, Morricone .”

He swallows. A bead of sweat drips down his temple.

“The Syndicate! It was the Syndicate’s doing.”

I pause from where I’m pulling out clippers to start extracting his fingernails. I sigh, disappointed that he folded so easily.

“Go on,” I grit out.

He tries to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace.

“They just asked me to tell them where you were going to be and what you were up to. I didn’t think it was a big deal, boss.

I owe so much money at the casino, and they said they’d clear my debt and give me a little extra.

You know how it is, money was a little tight and?—”

“And you thought betraying me instead of coming to me with your money problems was the better option?” I ask him.

“I didn’t want to bother you, and anyway, it turned out to be nothing, right?” He laughs nervously. “You don’t look hurt or?—”

Bobby’s words end with a grunt of pain as I smash my fist into the side of his torso, targeting the kidneys knowing it’ll hurt like a bitch.

As he doubles over, I raise my knee into his face, satisfied when I hear the crunching sound of his nose breaking.

I dig out my gun from my holster, dig the barrel under his jaw, and I’m about to press the trigger when he makes a startled sound.

“Wait, wait, don’t kill me. I’ll tell you something else if you swear to let me go,” he cries.

I grip his jaw and raise his head, so his eyes are meeting mine. “Go ahead.”

“Her fiancé is working with the Syndicate, too.”

I narrow my eyes. “You mean Luca Cozzoli?”

The man nods hurriedly. “I saw him hanging around the present Syndicate hideout. I don’t know what they discussed or what they’re up to, but the person who told me who he was says he’s been moving in and out of there for weeks.”

I nod. “Thank you, Morricone.”

He begins to smile, thinking that he’s redeemed himself and he’ll escape death. I smile back and then press the barrel of the gun harder against his jaw. His eyes widen, a protest forming on his tongue, but I’ve heard enough.

His head explodes into a shower of blood, bone, and brain matter, decorating the wall and ceiling. I wanted to take my time sending him to his grave, but in light of this new revelation, I have bigger fish to fry.

I turn to Tommaso. “Find out where Luca Cozzoli spends his days.”

“A strip club by the name Revolve,” he replies. “He’s either there or at the Champions Golf Club, losing all his money to lawn bets.”

Why anyone would willingly tie their daughter to that lazy son of a bitch is a serious question.

There’s nothing good about Luca, and I owe him one for putting his filthy hands on Giulia the other day at the restaurant.

I crack my knuckles and make my way toward the metal staircase leading back into the club.

“You can’t kill Cozzoli,” Tommaso says as I walk past him. “You’ll bring the wrath of his father on our heads. The son might be a good-for-nothing moron, but no man will watch you off his heir and say nothing.”

“I just want to talk to him.” It’s a lie, and we both know it. I want to make Luca cry and beg for mercy. I want to hear him say with his own mouth that he’s not even close to good enough for Giulia.

Without another word, I walk out of the basement. I don’t stop walking until I’m sliding into the leather interior of my Dodge. I step on the gas, peeling out of my private parking lot.

Revolve is half an hour drive from my club, but I get there in twenty after breaking all the speed limits and running red lights. I’m eager to get my hands on that Cozzoli bastard. I know I can’t kill him, but rearranging his face won’t hurt.

I walk into the ostentatious club, unsurprised that a man like Luca will be found in a place like this. The large chandeliers hanging overhead nearly blind me as I make my way to the bar, while my eyes roam around, clocking the entrances, exits, and security manning the place.

A blonde wearing a barely-there green dress walks past me and does a double-take, almost spilling the drinks on her tray. I shoot her a crooked smirk, and a smile splits her face. She changes direction, heading for me.

“Hey, handsome.” She winks.

“Hey,” I tell her easily.

“Need a room?” she asks huskily. “We will have a lot of fun together. I promise. I won’t even charge you much.”

I chuckle. “How about some information?” I pull out a rolled-up bundle from my pocket and tuck it into her cleavage. “I’m looking for someone. All you need to do is point me in the right direction.”

“Who might that be?”

“Luca Cozzoli,” I respond. “Brown hair, brown eyes. Loud-mouthed and obnoxious. Come here two to three nights a week.”

She makes a face. “That bastardo still owes me. I would have given you information about him for free, darling.” She spins on her sky-high heels. “Follow me.”

I trail after her up a flight of stairs and down a dimly lit hallway. She stops at a door and motions at it. “That’s where you’ll find the asshole. Have fun. And give him a kick in the dick for me.”

I wait until she disappears down the hallway to knock on the door. He yanks the door open, wearing a lopsided smile that he probably thinks is sexy and inviting. His smile slips away as soon as he sees me, and he tries to shut the door back.