Page 26 of Taken By the Enforcer

Nora hovers outside the door. One look at my face makes her blanch.

“This your phone?”

She nods, stumbling backwards.

My hand lashes out and grips her arm like a vise, dragging her into the hallway, closing the double doors behind me. She cowers as my face lowers inches to hers.

“Are you a fucking mole, Nora?”

She trembles.

I shake her like a leaf trapped in the eye of a tornado. “Answer me, damn you.”

“He—He forced me. Threatened to r—rape and kill my baby brother?—”

“I don’t give a fuck aboutyour baby brother or you. I’ll kill you and your entire fucking family,” I thunder as I shove her towards the soldiers. “Lock the bitch up in the dungeon. I’ll deal with her after I kill that son of a bitch Aldo.”

Her pleas for mercy trail behind me as I charge down the hallway.

“One of you stays with Paolina,” I order. “No one enters. Not even God himself.”

Downstairs, I dial Marcello. He answers on the first ring.

“Brother.”

“Aldo called Paolina,” I say. Voice flat. Controlled. The words vibrate with something darker beneath. “He threatened her. Threatened our daughter. And the fucker admitted he’s been stealing guns, selling them off. That’s why he shot Gino. It wasn’t a mistake—he was about to rat Aldo out.”

Silence. Then a hiss. “Where?”

“I’ll find him. Tonight.”

“Do it,” Marcello replies. “End him. Don’t worry about any blowback. I got you, brother.”

Faustino joins the call. His tone is colder. “Make it slow. He’s disgraced us long enough.”

I end the call, already moving. My soldiers know by my stride not to ask questions. The helicopter waits, blades cutting the night. Sicily awaits, her blood in my veins and vengeance in my bones.

The warehouse reeks of oil and damp concrete. Chains clink as Aldo dangles from them, stripped to hisshirt, arrogance gone from his eyes. My men delivered him like garbage. Naked and already bruised from their fists. My turn.

“Donatello—wait?—”

I don’t. My fist cracks his jaw. Blood sprays. His cry is high and ugly.

“You threatenedher.” My voice is low, deadly. “You threatenedmy baby.”

“I—she?—”

My knife is already in my hand. I press the blade against his mouth, then inside, prying. “You like to run it so much. Let’s see how you do without it.”

His eyes go wide. The muffled plea dies as I slice. His tongue severs with a gush of blood and piss. I stuff the slab of meat up his ass since he talks shit and wants to fuck with what’s mine.

“Talk now,” I snarl.

He gags, chokes, thrashes. My men snicker.

“See you in hell, motherfucker.”

Eyes locked on his, I end him with one sure cut across his throat. His body jerks, sprays, stills. The silence that follows is cleaner than confession.