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KON (Trassato Crime Family Book 2)

Page 18

by Lisa Cardiff


  My spine snapped attention. “Are you threatening to hurt him?”

  “By him, I want to clarify, we’re both talking about Konstantin Trincher, correct?”

  “You know about him?” I questioned, shock bleeding from my voice.

  His eyes brightened, making no attempt to hide his amusement. “Of course I do. And while I hate the idea of getting used goods, your uncle has agreed to compensate me, so I’ll get over it. Money will keep me entertained much longer than a faithless wife. Besides, I figure I can have my pick of women. Nobody would fault me given your behavior over the last month.”

  Snickering, he grabbed a manila folder from the end table and tossed it at me. Glossy 8x10 pictures of Kon and me spilled across the floor.” “Here’s some mementos. You can put them in a photo album and look at them in the years to come and remember the good ol’ days.”

  “You’re sick. Why would you say something like that? Is this a joke to you or are you so jaded that you don’t care about anyone or anything?”

  “Look at me, Carmela,” he said. “Look into my eyes. I dare you to find any trace of a man who gives a shit. I do what I have to, and you’re merely another step on the stairway to the place I want to be.”

  Peering into his soulless eyes, my stomach heaved with nausea. “Where’s that?”

  “At the top. I’m going to lead the Trassato family. I’m going to be Dominick’s successor.” He cocked his head to the side. “Once Dominick’s gone, I won’t have much use for you. Think about that. You might want to be on your best behavior from here on out.”

  “A lot can happen before then. Like me shoving a knife in your neck or poisoning your food. Think about that, asshole.”

  I was unable to listen to him any longer. Dominick would have to put a gun to my head to get me to marry Nico. Any potential to grow to like or respect this man was shot to Hell, and I’d be damned if I tied my life to him, or, God forbid, had kids with him. A shiver darted down my spine at the thought of Nico touching me. I surged toward the door, needing to get away from him.

  He sprang into action, grabbing my wrist before I got more than a couple of feet. When I tried to wrench it away, his hand tightened, pulling me firmly against the length of his frame. His face crowded mine, and I could smell wine on his breath.

  “Don’t fuck with me, Carmela.” He pressed me into the kitchen table, one hand curled around my neck and the other twisted in my hair, yanking at the roots and stinging my scalp. “I don’t give a shit who your uncle or your brother are. With one call, I can make you disappear. Nobody will ever find you, and the best part is I already have an alibi. It’s called the Russians,” he hissed, the icy tone of his voice making my knees wobble.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  His hand tightened around my neck centimeter by centimeter. There was nothing loving in the strength of his grip and the look on his face. I gasped for air. The edges of my vision blurred. Saliva pooled in my mouth.

  Oh shit, this was it. The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on me. I’d spent thirteen months fearing the Trinchers and what my life would be like if I were trapped with Kon, but they weren’t the real threat. The real threat had been lying in wait for my entire life, hiding among the suit-clad men who hung around Gian and Dominick.

  “I’ll do whatever I want.”

  Panic bubbling in the throat, I lifted my knee, hitting him in the balls. He grunted and bent over, cupping himself.

  I couldn’t move for a beat. Pressure built, preventing me from sucking in a breath. Like a statue, I stood there frozen in some weird time warp, unable to comprehend what I’d done.

  Holy shit. Nico is going to kill me.

  That thought snapped me into motion. I sprinted to the door, running blindly down the hallway. I stabbed the elevator button three times in quick succession, then gave up and darted to the exit stairwell, my footfalls echoing off the concrete walls. Three flights of stairs later, I stopped in the lobby of his building to catch my breath, my hands resting on the top of my thighs.

  “Pull yourself together,” I repeated over and over, giving my muscles and brain a pep talk.

  Seconds later, I heard the rush of footsteps behind me. Before I could reach the gun strapped to my thigh, someone pulled a dark hood over my head and forced me to the ground, pinning my arms and legs to the floor. Rough fibers scratched at my face and flickers of light peeked through the woven squares of fabric, giving me a fuzzy glimpse of two shadowed figures.

  I screamed, squirming and thrashing without much success. The fabric clung tighter and tighter to my face until I couldn’t tell whether I was suffocating or having a panic attack, but I did know I was growing weaker and weaker by the second.

  “Wrap the duct tape around her legs and arms!” a man shouted.

  “I’m one step ahead of you,” a woman replied. The ripping noise of tape pierced through my increasingly hazy thoughts.

  “Leave me alone!” I squeaked out, arching my back and swiveling from side to side. “Let me go! Please.”

  “I can’t stand listening to this bitch,” the woman taping my arms responded, her voice weirdly hollow.

  A solid object knocked against the side of my skull. Blinding white pain exploded inside of my head and then…nothing.

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-NINE

  Konstantin

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  “What the fuck?” I rolled onto my side and squinted at the alarm clock, blinking a few times before bringing the glowing blue numbers into focus. It was three in the morning, and I had drifted off to sleep a measly hour earlier.

  I tossed and turned, unable to quiet the voices warning me something wasn’t right. Even after drinking two glasses of vodka they refused to be silenced. Their cunning voices mocked me for allowing Carmela to face her family and Nico by herself. Something wasn’t right.

  Bang! Bang! Bang!

  “Open the door, Trincher, or I’ll kick it in. It’s your choice. I’m only giving you thirty seconds to decide!” someone bellowed in the hallway outside my apartment. My neighbor was going to report me to the co-op if this shit continued.

  I stuffed my legs into my jeans, pulled a shirt over my head, and trekked down the hall to the front door. I glanced out the peephole.

  Dammit.

  “Gian, can’t this wait until morning? It’s the middle of the night if you haven’t noticed, and as much as I love middle of the night visits, I can guarantee my neighbors don’t feel the same.”

  “I don’t give a damn about your neighbors.” He punched the door. “My sister’s missing. I have a feeling you know where to find her or that she’s in there with you.”

  An icy, sick dread tilted my stomach. I fucking knew better than to let Carmela take care of this shit alone. If I could kick my own ass right now, I would. I deserved it. I should’ve faced off with Nico, Dominick, and Gian and stood my ground.

  I shoved a gun into the waistband of my jeans and flung open the door. I needed to pick Gian’s brain for information and then end this conversation as fast as possible and find Carmela myself. I didn’t trust Gian’s people. I’d seen their less than stellar work firsthand at the hospital, and I refused to entrust Carmela’s life to a bunch of incompetent assholes.

  “She’s not here.”

  Gian stood right outside my door with a gun aimed at me, surrounded by two guys and one woman I didn’t recognize. His dark hair stuck up and his eyes, so like Carmela’s, looked wild and haunted.

  “Don’t lie to me.” He grabbed the petite woman with short dark hair and large wounded eyes and wrenched her forward. “She stopped by here today, right, Emilia?”

  “Don’t fucking touch me, Gian. I don’t want anything to do with this. I already told you everything I know.”

  “Well then, you shouldn’t have covered for her today,” Gian growled. “I can’t believe we trusted you. You’ve always been a backstabbing bitch.” His withering stare cut back to me. “Now, tell me where my sister is, Tr
incher. You’re one of the last people to see her other than Emilia, and I can’t believe a word out of her mouth.”

  “I already told you she’s not here. You can check for yourself,” I said, gesturing for him to come inside and search my home.

  “Stay out here and keep an eye out for anything unusual.” He stalked inside, his hand still wrapped around Emilia’s wrist, kicking the door shut with his foot. He pointed at a barstool in my kitchen. “Sit here, and keep your mouth shut unless I ask a question.”

  “Carmela! Carmela!” Gian called, hauling his crazy ass from room to room. Doors banged shut. Chairs clattered to the floor. He could tear my fucking house apart for all I cared. He wouldn’t find anything here.

  I folded my arms across my chest when he reappeared. “Are you satisfied?”

  “Tell me where she is, Trincher. I’m coming outta my fuckin’ skin. Evie doesn’t think you’d hurt her, but—”

  “Are you serious? I wouldn’t hurt her. Look, Gian, Carmela stopped by today. We talked and she left. I never saw that chick, whatever her name is. She came alone and she left an hour later. She told me she’d contact me tomorrow. That’s all I know.”

  Gian’s shoulders slumped. “What about your father? Carmela told me about the deal she made with you guys. Would he go after her?”

  “My father doesn’t know shit about any of this. I told him I had it under control, and he hasn’t brought up Carmela in weeks.”

  He hadn’t, which under normal circumstances would scare the shit out of me. The quieter my father got on a subject frequently meant he had something in the works. This time he’d been caught up in the new business deals with the DiTonnos. He’d flown to Paris three days ago to meet with his Russian contacts. He wanted to sort out the additional shipment of cars along with some other deals he had in the works.

  “Did you see her after she left my house?” I asked Emilia.

  “Yeah,” Emilia replied. “She went to Nico’s house and I had coffee down the street. When she didn’t come back, I called Gian. That’s all I know. I’ve told Gian the same thing a hundred and one times, and he insists on dragging me all over town.”

  “Did anyone talk to Nico?”

  “Of course I did. I’m not a fucking imbecile. He didn’t know anything. According to him, Carmela stopped by. They fought. She left. He didn’t have much to add. He was drunk off his ass.”

  Nico was a psychopath. I didn’t believe a word out of his mouth. If he hurt Carmela, I would slice him into little pieces and hand deliver his rotting corpse to his next of kin.

  “And you believe him?”

  “You know what? Fuck you. This is a waste of time. Evie thought this was a good idea. I have no idea why I listened to her. You’re a selfish prick.” He waved to Emilia. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait.” I grabbed his shoulder. “Tell me what you know, and I’ll do what I can to help.”

  He studied me, without a doubt weighing whether he could trust me. He scrubbed his hand down his unshaven face. “I don’t know how you can help. You were my last lead. Carmela and Evie haven’t been that close lately so she didn’t have much information, and I don’t know many of her friends from school. I went through her cell phone contacts, and no one knew a damn thing.”

  My throat thickened and I nodded grimly. “Does she have any enemies?”

  “Not that I know of.” He paced. “Until recently, she mostly kept to herself. Ya know?”

  My mind scrambled through my conversations with Carmela only to come up empty. She had a couple of friends she mentioned in passing and the one who let us use the family restaurant. Other than that, she had her family…and her family’s enemies.

  My head snapped up. “Renzo DiTonno.”

  “What?

  “Renzo DiTonno,” I repeated. “You know, Marco’s brother.”

  “What about him?”

  “He harassed her at one of my clubs. Got in her face and roughed her up a bit. He was ranting about the Trassatos killing his brother.”

  “What the Hell? Why didn’t she say something? I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill Alesio. The fucker. They broke our truce. They broke every fucking rule. You don’t touch the women. They’re off limits.”

  “Alesio told me he took care of it. He made it sound like Renzo was demoted or kicked out.”

  “Why would Alesio come to you about my sister? He should’ve talked to me.”

  “We do business together. He didn’t want me to walk and cut ties.”

  “You think Renzo’s unhinged enough to go after Carmela?”

  “After what happened at my club? Yeah, I do. Even more so, if Alesio actually punished Renzo.”

  I got my jacket and another gun from the front closet, stuffing my feet into my boots. I was going to kill Renzo. You didn’t take what was mine, and Carmela was mine. I’d move Heaven and Earth to get her back.

  “What are you doing?” Gian asked as he punched his finger against the screen of his phone.

  “I’m going to shut that fucker down.”

  “I’m coming with you.”

  I grabbed him by this collar. “You can come with me as long as you agree not to breathe a word of this to Nico. I don’t trust that asshole.”

  “Dominick won’t like this.”

  “Dominick can go fuck himself. I don’t work for him.”

  I fired off a text to Anatolyi to meet me a block away from Renzo’s house. I didn’t know if Renzo would take her there or not, but it was a good starting point. I hoped we weren’t already too late.

  Gian grinned. “Then let’s get going.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Carmela

  I sat on a cold, hard concrete floor with my legs and arms bound. Tape covered my mouth, and I could barely breathe. My head throbbing, I took stock of the dimly lit room.

  A cast iron pipe spanned the length of the ceiling, then dipped down the wall, disappearing into the floor. Spider webs dangled from wooden floor joists above my head. The concrete was scaling where the floor met the walls, leaving a pile of chalk-like dust. The damp, musty smell of mildew hung in the air.

  I eyed the room, surveying it for weak points. While it didn’t have any windows, there was a white wooden door with peeling paint on the far side.

  I bent forward, rubbing my elbow up my leg to see if I still had the gun Kon gave me. I did. Thank God. If I could free my hands I could escape, or at the very least, surprise the shit out of whoever put me in this dank hole.

  I jerked at my wrists. The tape held strong, and nothing happened.

  “Fuck!” I screamed beneath the swath of tape, and it sounded more like a muffled grunt than an actual word. I banged my feet against the floor, twisting and kicking, trying to free them. Nothing loosened its grip.

  I rested my head against my knees, tears of frustration leaking from the corners of my eyes. Too bad I couldn’t wipe them away and hide the evidence of my defeat.

  The self-defense course Tony, one of my dad’s soldiers and now Gian’s soldier, gave me popped into my head. At the time, I didn’t take it seriously, and now I regretted it. He’d spent a full hour explaining how to get out of all kinds of restraints.

  I closed my eyes, zeroing in on the memory. Duct tape was only made to be strong in one direction, and it tore easily if manipulated the right way. I remembered Tony demonstrating the move.

  Coming to my feet, I lifted my hands over my head and jerked my elbows downward. My arms scraped against my ribcage right before my joined wrists collided with my chest. With a ripping noise my hands flew apart and my elbows bounced against the concrete wall. Holy crap, it worked!

  I yanked the tape from my mouth and legs, ignoring the stinging sensation. I grabbed the gun from the lace holster around my leg, and settled in to wait. I waited for so long, I was surprised I didn’t fall asleep.

  Finally, the door burst open, hitting the wall with a loud clunk. Light from the hall sliced through the room. A woman strode inside, her ominous shadow sp
illing across the floor. I flattened my back to the wall, concealing the gun and my freed hands between my knees.

  Her blonde hair was greasy and tangled, her eyes wide and dilated. She passed a knife back and forth between her hands.

  My hands shook as I blindly rubbed my hand along the barrel of the gun, the trigger, then released the safety with a soft click. I kept my breathing smooth and steady, never taking my eyes off the woman in front of me.

  “I see you got out of your restraints. You’re not as stupid as I thought.” My eyes glued to the woman, I didn’t bother answering her. I didn’t want to give her any reason to come after me before I was good and ready.

  “Who are you?” I quizzed, trying to bring her features into focus.

  “One person in a long line of people who wouldn’t mind seeing you dead, but first we’re gonna have fun torturing you.”

  “You’re crazy,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

  “You know what’s crazy?” she shrieked angrily. “You thinking you’re entitled to whatever and whoever you want without caring about the consequences. You take and take and take.” She stabbed the knife to punctuate her words. “And you only care about yourself.” She paused for a painful beat, exhaling loudly, then pointed the knife at me. “Get up. It’s time to meet my friends.”

  CHAPTER

  THIRTY-ONE

  Konstantin

  Anatolyi stepped out of the shadows, dressed head to toe in black. The darkness disguised the direction of his gaze.

  “What’s going on now?” I said out loud, fixing my eyes on the white house with black shutters midblock. All the curtains were drawn, blocking my view. The crickets chirping competed with the distant hum of traffic.

  Anatolyi’s head swung to Gian and two of his guys. “What are they doing here? You didn’t tell me we were working with the guidos.”

  One of Gian’s men stepped forward, whipping his gun from his waistband. “Watch your fucking mouth.”

  Gian planted his hand in the middle of the man’s chest. “Not now, Sal.”

 

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