Page 43 of Forbidden Confessions, Volume 2 (The Forbidden Volumes #1)

Translation: If the asshole who paid for some terrified and unwilling woman to spend the night with him is fortunate, he’ll turn her back over to Marco…

who probably gives her to Paulie or Sal to use before he feeds her a bullet.

But if the rich asshole isn’t done with his new toy yet, he’ll take her with him to wherever the fuck he’s going… and God help her then.

The entire scheme is sickening and inhumane. But I keep my opinion to myself.

“I see.” I smile blandly. “And you’d like me to…”

“Take over this line of business. It’s incredibly lucrative, so I’m looking to franchise in other locations and set up a more steady supply of merchandise. We’re getting by now. But this could be far more profitable, I think, with your touch.”

Not if I can help it . “Sure.”

He beams and pats my face as if I’m a beloved nephew. “Excellent. While I’m saddened Luca isn’t with us anymore, I’m grateful he led you to us. Sal gives you a hard time, but you’ve been indispensable.”

Glad Donzelli sees it that way. It makes my life easier. “Thank you.”

“Not at all. I know you’ll do great things with my ‘pet’ project,” he chortles, then leads me around a corner, past a side door, between a pair of armed guards, and down another long hall—filled with cage after cage of people locked up like animals.

“See for yourself.” He gestures.

I swallow as I pace up the walkway between the two sets of enclosures, my expression intentionally blank. But inside, I’m fucking furious. Every instinct screams at me to tear these fucking cages apart with my bare hands.

The shadows obscure details, but I turn to stare into the terrified face of a woman who looks about twenty-two, another belonging to a girl who’s maybe all of fifteen, then—oh, shit—a little boy who appears about five or six.

Rage burns through my veins like acid. That’s a new low for these animals.

I force myself to keep looking, cataloging faces, even as my vision blurs red at the edges.

I swallow back the violent urge to snap Marco Donzelli’s neck here and now.

Drugs are one thing. If people want to pollute their bodies, that’s their issue.

But abducting bystanders for a buck so entitled pricks can violate them?

Even for someone with his history and reputation, this is depraved.

But I nod thoughtfully, the picture of a man considering a business proposition, not retributive murder.

“You’re awfully quiet.” He sounds displeased.

“Taking it in. Honestly, I had no idea…” How horrible it was. On paper was bad enough. I’m a tough son of a bitch, but seeing these people shreds my guts. No one deserves this abuse.

My admission that he put one over on me perks Donzelli up.

“We’ve done a very good job of being discreet.

Of course, we’ve paid off the right people.

Detectives, judges, even some local FBI.

I think we’re nearly poised to become a premiere provider in the region, maybe the whole West Coast. But this needs to be…

what’s that phrase you’re always using to describe making a line of business better? ”

“Optimized,” I recite automatically.

“That’s it. Paulie has been trying to help me, but he lacks your expertise.

And he tends to play a bit too roughly with the product.

” He nods at a young blonde who sports a giant bruise on her face.

She’s a trembling, shell-shocked wreck whose tears stained her pale cheeks.

In the next cage over, a barely legal brunette clutches her hand, offering silent comfort.

“Doesn’t Paulie understand that’s bad for business?”

The boss sighs. “He gets carried away. You’ve proven to be far more…measured. You haven’t availed yourself of any female companionship in months.”

That he knows of. And I intend to keep it that way. “Haven’t seen anyone interesting.”

Donzelli nods. “Discerning. I like that. Since you’ve shown restraint, you’re welcome to sample the merchandise as long as you don’t damage it.”

That’s never going to happen . “Thank you, sir.”

“Of course.”

The guard from the nearby desk rises suddenly and makes his way to the boss, skewering me with a glance, then whispers something in his ear.

Marco raises a brow. “Really? Thank you.” He turns to me. “I’ve just been advised that Paulie has returned from an outing with exceptionally good news.”

Anything that’s good news for Paul Carboni is probably shitty news for me. “Oh?”

“Let’s go hear it. Afterward, you can look around, gather ideas how to improve…um, what’s the right phrase?”

“Output and profitability?”

“Exactly.”

I resist the urge to swear under my breath. “Let’s go.”

It takes all my balls and fortitude to turn my back on Donzelli’s “pets” in cages and retrace my steps toward the elevators. But whatever’s going on with the boss and his underlings may well affect my next move.

Because, unbeknownst to any of them, I’m not just here to take over the organization someday. I’m here to burn it to the ground.

Beyond the narrow hall and the guards behind, Marco tries the door, only to find it locked.

He sighs. “This has been Paul’s ‘command center’ for the operation.

There’s almost nothing in there, but he likes to feel important.

I’ll get you a key later so you can study what he’s done and implement… what’s the term?”

“Process improvements,” I mumble absently.

I’ve got to get into that room ASAP. I need hard evidence so I can free these people and get out of this shithole.

“Precisely. Thoughts so far?” Marco asks as he steps back into the elevator and presses the button to return to the observation suite above the casino.

“About this venture?” I shrug. “If you want max profitability, we need to clean it up. If I had money and I was in the market for specific…companionship, I wouldn’t want anyone who looked mistreated and unwashed. Torn clothes and bruises should be a hard fucking no.”

“You have a fair point. The merchandise should come in pristine condition. What the buyer decides to do with it…”

“Should be up to them.” If I can convince Donzelli to treat his captives more like people than animals until I can deal directly with the situation, I’ll call that a temporary win.

“Their current accommodations were slapped together simply because we grew faster than planned and had nothing else prepared. I’ve been toying with the notion that we need better. This facility is secure, but…”

“But it smells like body odor and shit. You can’t get top dollar that way. It might have worked for a small-time operation, but you want to go big. So you’ve got to do better.”

“You’re right.”

“We have that old wing of the hotel shut down for upgrades. They’re not scheduled to start work on the west hallway of the eighth floor until the end of summer.

Put the merch there. That will buy you a few months to find an alternate location.

Move guards into position so that anyone who wanders that way can be redirected.

Hell, put a passcode on the southern-most elevator so that anyone who gets on can’t stop at that floor. ”

And if Donzelli agrees, all those people in cages now will have a bed, a toilet, a shower, and a few creature comforts. It’s not freedom yet, but it’s a step up.

“To be honest, I haven’t been down there in a few weeks.

I’m displeased Paulie hasn’t improved his setup.

I’ll have the product moved to that abandoned wing tonight.

Those rooms haven’t been renovated in a few decades, so the doors still have old-fashioned locks with keys.

Jimmy in Maintenance can flip the knobs around so they lock from the outside.

The windows don’t vent out. We sold off the old phones for parts months ago.

We can wire some video surveillance in each room quickly and tie that into the rest of the casino’s security.

That way, we can monitor every piece of merchandise from my suite.

We have the equipment. And you’ll be around to keep an eye on things while you study the business.

It’s a great plan.” He claps me on the shoulder, clearly pleased.

And Paul Carboni will consider my involvement as welcome as me pissing in his Corn Flakes. “Like I said, I’m happy to help.”

We reach the level just above the casino. When Donzelli and I step into his suite, a glance out the wall of windows tells me the crowd on the floor has swelled again. Shoulders bump and bodies rub as people dash from one diversion to another, looking for empty, temporary amusement.

But that’s not the shock. Paulie standing in the middle of the room, rain-soaked and shaking up a bottle of champagne in his beefy hands as blood stains his shirt, is.

What the fuck has he been up to?

Instinct kicks me in the teeth again. Whatever it is, I’m not going to like it.

“What are we celebrating?” Donzelli asks.

“Boss!” Paulie uncorks the bubbly and turns toward Sal and Rudy.

Yeah, he knows better than to spew all over the boss’s fancy duds.

He celebrates over the duo’s sputtering with a laugh.

“Boss, that thorn in your side? That annoying ‘competitor’ in the flesh biz, Ransom?” He barks out a low, ugly laugh. “I got him.”

My blood turns to ice. Dread and murderous fury unfurls in my chest, but I work like a motherfucker to keep all hint of reaction off my face. It’s a challenge. The need to tear Paulie apart with my hands so intense it’s like physical pain. “What do you mean?”

“Shut up, you little puke,” he snarls. “I’m talking to the boss.”

“We’re family,” Donzelli growls. “We’re supposed to get along, Paul.”

But Carboni has already made it clear I’m like the pesky younger cousin he’d rather do without. The feeling is more than mutual. And I don’t need more family, thanks very much. I’ve got three older brothers.

Ransom just happens to be my oldest.

Paul sneers. “Then the little fuck shouldn’t interrupt me when I’m trying to tell you that I eliminated the competition—for good. I dusted Ransom in a strip mall about an hour ago.”