hold her to me a bit longer, letting her struggle with her new reality. I’m bigger, stronger, meaner, and far more stubborn than she’s ever had to deal with before. I didn’t get to America and beside Joker by being a weak wanker. I pillaged and killed my way up the ranks. I cheated and lied until it got me further in life. Mum would piss her virginal white knickers if she saw me now—not that I give two fucks.
“You’ll have some lonely nights, Brit boy, if you’re waiting on me to spread my thighs. It won’t happen in your lifetime.”
I release her, striding towards my wardrobe. “Who says I only shag at night? And trust me, darling, my cock’s far from lonely.”
“He and your hand best friends? Makes sense,” she huffs, but follows along like a good fiancée. She’s so fucking sweet on the eyes, it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. She’s delusional if she thinks we won’t shag at some point. I want inside her pussy, and I always manage a way to get what I want. She’s no exception, and the sooner I have her, the better.
“I’m sick of you pricks showing up half-arsed,” I bark to the lot before me. I sent them after Dante Vendetti, told them to follow the fella around and see what he was up to. Not that I don’t already know he’s the one killing the families, but I want confirmation I’m right, the proof. I don’t want to go to Joker without knowing all the facts.
“We don’t know how he got away, I swear it, man.”
“Did I ask you to speak?” I bellow and lunge for the offensive tosser. Andre stands off to the side out of the way, quietly watching me lose my temper. It’s his usual place, unless I order differently.
The man stumbles back, but he’s too slow. I have my clutches on him in the next blink, his bloated head in my grip. Flattening my palms on each side, I set to squeezing. My arm muscles bulge as I compress tighter and tighter. The bloke screams with pain, his eyes clenching closed as he can’t escape me. It feels positively riveting to have his life in my bare hands.
I let free a noisy, delirious laugh. “Do you see now? Piss me right off, and I’ll squeeze the bloody brains from your fucking knob heads! All of you!”
The bloke wails as blood trickles from his ears, wetting my shirt sleeves. I let go at once, flinging him down with force. He falls to the ground, crying out, blood smeared along his cheeks and throat. I scowl down at him. “Let this be a warning. Do not disappoint me or I’ll make an example of you. I thought you bunch knew as much by now.”
I flick my stare to Andre. “Find me someone who’s competent, or I’ll shoot them all and start completely over.” The threat is clear: make them do better, or you die too. Hope the bastard gets it or else he’ll be snoozing six feet below the frozen grass.
Now, I’m forced to alert Thaddaeus that we have nothing new. I don’t like coming up short. It pisses me right the fuck off and tends to make me act a bit unhinged. Rash decisions are my forte, although they bite me in the arse at times without me learning much from it. In the case of Dante and the takeover, I need every bit of information I can dig up. Joker won’t get to the head of the table by me fucking up.
Tugging a fresh hanky free from my inside pocket, I wipe my hands clean of the blood. It’s a shame this shirt is ruined. I liked this one. Tucking the hanky in my trouser pocket, I release the cuff buttons and roll them up my forearms. It’ll have to do until I get back to my flat. The cold around here never bothered me much anyhow. In my opinion, London has a far crisper chill with the wet mixed in all the miserable time.
Aside from the pestering Vendetti issue, I can’t get Ismerlda off my mind. Women rarely make much of an impression on me to remember them, let alone to dwell over them throughout the day. What could she possibly do all day at her job? I wonder if she’s with a client right now and, if so, who it is. The thoughts pounding through my head will drive me mad if