“Nice try, Miss Linscott.” He turned around, grabbed the only chair in the room, pulled it closer, and sat down, his stare pinning me in place. “I can see that your family taught you well.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about or what the hell is going on.” A tear slipped down my cheek as the panic inside me grew stronger and stronger.
He leaned back, clasping his hands in front of him. “I see you’re playing the ignorant card. Do you really think that’s going to work with me?”
“I’m not playing any damn card. I really don’t have a clue who you are or why I’m even here.”
“I already told you, I’m Carlo’s twin brother.”
“And I already told you that his surname isn’t Fattore.”
“There you go with the isn’t again.” He sighed before shifting in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees. “I’ll give you an early warning, Miss Linscott,” he shrugged, “to help make this entire process a little less painful than it’s already going to be for you. I’m not well-known for my patience, and my level of tolerance for bullshit is really, really low. So I suggest you cut the crap and forget about fooling me with your ignorance.”
I shook my head as more tears came running down my cheeks. “Please, I’m telling you the truth. I really don’t know what you’re talking about. All I know is that Carlo told me his surname was Mancini, and he never mentioned a twin brother.”
His eyes narrowed, and his scrutinizing gaze swept over my face. “I don’t believe you.”
“Why would I lie?”
“You’re in quite the predicament, Miss Linscott. Humanity has a way to make us do whatever we need to in order to survive…which includes lying.”
I wiped away strands of hair that were stuck to my face as my desperation started to burn a hole inside my chest. “I’m not lying,” I whispered and then started sobbing. “I really don’t know what you want from me. What am I doing here?”
Abruptly, he jerked up with such force the chair skidded across the floor and tumbled over.
“You are here because you couldn’t keep your filthy hands off my brother.” The deep, hard sound of his voice made me flinch, more tears streaming down my face. “You are here because your father thinks he can play God with people’s lives and get away with it. You are here because someone needs to fucking pay for what has been taken from me and my family. And that, Miss Linscott, will have to be you.”
“Please, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Cut the crap. Stop playing fucking games!”
“I’m not. I’m not playing games.” Oh God, it felt like I was about to throw up while I choked on my own tears.
With wild eyes and a furious glare, he placed his hands on the bed, leaning closer to me before he yelled, “You fucking killed my brother! Because of you, my family and I had to bury Carlo!”
My heart stopped. It stopped, and all the life drained out of me within a split second. I couldn’t even comprehend what I just heard. The words that came out of his mouth made absolutely no sense to me, and it was like my mind came to a screeching halt.
“What do you mean, I killed your brother?” My voice was so damn soft I could hardly hear myself.
“You weren’t the one to pull the trigger, but you might as well have.”
“No…no.” I looked down at the bed, confusion sweeping through my mind. “You’re wrong.”
“Excuse me?”
I looked back up at him. “You’re wrong. He’s not dead.”
“Then who the fuck did I bury seven months ago, huh?”
All I could do was shake my head, thinking about the day Carlo never showed up for our date. It never once crossed my mind that something might have happened to him. After all, we were only together for a little less than two months, so I assumed after he disappeared and disconnected his phone he had moved on. It was then that I realized I didn’t know anything about his family other than that he was from Italy and his parents owned a vineyard there. So to think he went back to Italy, to his home without me, was a natural conclusion to make. But never, not once, did I think he was dead.
I lifted my head to look at him. “Please tell me you’re lying and this is all just some sick joke?”
Castello straightened, but nothing on his face told me that he was anything less than serious.
“Please,” I started and moved forward closer toward him on my knees. “Please tell me Carlo isn’t dead.”
He just stared at me. He didn’t even goddamn blink. The expression on his face was unreadable, and it scared me—it terrified me, chilling every bone in my body. I was so desperate for him to tell me this was all just a twisted game that I grabbed his hand in mine. “Castello, please, tell me it’s not true.”
As if my touch had burned him, he jerked his hand out of mine and stepped back suddenly, looking bewildered and confused.
“You—” He pointed at me while he kept on walking backward. “You better cut your bullshit right now, or I swear to God you will regret it.”
“I’m not—”
But he stepped out of the room, and the door slammed shut before I could finish my sentence. I didn’t even try to go after him, or to escape, for that matter. My entire body was frozen, my insides completely numb and void of everything. It was like my mind went blank, every emotion drained from my soul.
Carlo, dead? How could that be? After all these months, I thought…I thought…
Oh God.
Was he really dead? And why did Castello believe my family and I had something to do with his death? But the better question…what did he plan to do to me?
Chapter 3
Castello
What in the ever-loving fuck was that?
I couldn’t completely process what the hell just happened. I stood there staring at the damn door, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. At first, I thought for sure she was playing games, trying to trick me. It only made sense that being a Linscott, one of the most powerful families in America, her father would have prepped her on these things, taught her how to handle herself when things got tough. But now I wasn’t so sure. The way she reacted, the expression on her face when I told her Carlo was dead—I wasn’t sure one could fake that. Either she was telling the truth or she was one hell of an actress. But I was willing to bet a lot of money it was the latter. With the death of my brother and father, I learned the very costly lesson that one should never underestimate the Linscotts.
Our families had never crossed paths until Carlo’s death, and now it was a full-on war—a war I intended to win. They knew nothing of the Cosa Nostra, and they clearly had underestimated us by thinking they could get away with murdering one of our own. They had no clue what it entailed, being a powerful Mafia family such as ourselves, what it meant in every sense of the word. It wasn’t just about ruling and throwing your weight around. It wasn’t a motherfucking gang dabbling with shit like drugs and illegal gambling, where you could do whatever the hell you wanted and then have your entourage of stupid, trigger-happy idiots save your reckless ass. All those shitty movies based on what the world thought about our kind were nothing but a bucket of bullshit. We didn’t go around killing because some motherfucker didn’t aim straight when he took a piss. There weren’t bodies of junkies who couldn’t pay their loans piling up in our back yard. Our businesses had long passed being street thugs.
But being Mafia was first and foremost about family, loyalty, protecting your own, obeying the rules you swore to uphold, and carrying the consequences if you didn’t. We didn’t ruin and rule just for the fun of it, to go on some fucking power trip. We fought, we conquered, and we earned every luxury our lifestyle awarded us with. Nothing came easy. Our wealth and power didn’t just fall out of thin air right into our golden laps. We earned it.
The streets of Manhattan had been ours for years. Everyone knew not to fuck with the Fattores, but apparently the Linscotts didn’t get the fucking memo all the way in Oklahoma. William
Linscott thought because he was the owner of Linscott Resources, one of the most powerful and successful resources companies, specializing in oil, that he could go around killing whoever the fuck he wanted. Now, because of their ignorance, she had to pay the price; she had to atone for the loss our family had been forced to endure. Why her? Because it all fucking started with her.
If she hadn’t clawed her way into my brother’s life in the first place, he would still be here, my father would still be here, and I wouldn’t be stuck with the responsibility that was never supposed to be mine.
I straightened my suit jacket before turning around facing Vico, who had been watching everything on the monitor.
“She’s lying,” he stated firmly.
“I know.”
“Mancini,” Vico scoffed. “Fucking lying slut. Does she really think we’ll fall for her bullshit? There is no way she didn’t know who he really was. He was a Fattore, for Christ sake.”
“Maybe that’s it. Maybe they figured out who he was, felt threatened by our family, and decided to take him out.”
“They’d be right to feel threatened. But now all they did was sign every member of their family’s death warrant.”
I let out a breath. “Calm down, Vico. I told you earlier, you need to keep your temper intact…and vanity,” I added in a whisper which Vico didn’t hear.
“I know. Sorry. But the fact that she is underestimating us with her bullshit riles me up.” He turned back to the monitor. “Look at her with her fake fucking tears. She is one hell of an actress, I’ll give her that. That was an Oscar-winning performance.”
I pulled my palm down my face, frustration pulsing through my veins, making my muscles twitch.
Vico sighed. “I just can’t believe that Carlo, of all people, didn’t realize what her family was capable of.”
I snapped my gaze up at him. “The Linscotts are one of the most powerful families in the US, if not the world, Vico.”
“Exactly, so how could Carlo have been so stupid as to underestimate them? Did he really think he could fuck the rich American girl and not carry the consequences?”
“Enough!” My voice boomed through the room, slamming against the walls.
Vico stared at me with widened eyes, and I took a deep breath, struggling to keep my rage contained. “We don’t know what happened. All we know is that the Linscotts had Carlo murdered.” I rounded the table and walked up behind Vico, staring at the monitor. “But I’ll get to the truth. I’ll crack her wide open and extract every goddamn secret she has,” I vowed while watching the blonde woman cry into her palms.
As she cried, her entire body was shaking. Did I care? No. She deserved all the panic and fear she was currently experiencing. In fact, she deserved more than that. She deserved pain too, which in time, she would get…by my hand.
“You left the box in there, man.” Vico looked back at me.
I smiled. “I know.”
Just then, she lifted her head and spotted the plain brown box I had placed on the bed earlier. My intention was to make her open it while I was still in the room, but unfortunately, the lies that spewed from her mouth forced me to leave, because I was on the verge of choking those lies out of her—along with her last breath.
Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I continued to watch her, knowing that sooner or later her curiosity would get the better of her. Right now, she was staring at the box like she was convinced it was a trap. But the human mind was a wonderful place. Recklessness always accompanied curiosity, hence the saying curiosity killed the cat. Now, this cat was one I couldn’t wait to kill, to look into her face when she realized the game she played had ultimately brought on her demise…and the demise of those she cared most about.
“How long do you think it’s going to take for her to budge?” Vico tapped a finger on the table, and I scoffed at his blatant impatience.
“Relax, brother. Just watch.”
While she wiped her face with the rag she was wearing, she settled a little, crossing her legs beneath her while she continued to stare at the box. When Vico brought her in almost twenty-four hours ago, she looked like every other spoiled, rich girl, wearing her expensive designer blouse, jeans, and heels. Besides the fact that she was unconscious, she looked worth much more than she really was—which was why I instructed Doc to strip her of the wealth she didn’t deserve and dress her in a two-dollar piece of fabric that was old and tattered.
It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours yet, and already she looked like she’d been through Hell. She looked pathetic, poor, and broken while she sat there with her dirty hair and tired eyes. I hadn’t even begun to exact my revenge, and already she seemed like she was close to crumbling. But, to be honest, I couldn’t say I was surprised. Carlo liked his women modest and reserved. A woman who lacked a voice and a spine. A woman who was born and bred to submit and be nothing more than a pretty face to complement the man’s image.
I, on the other hand, preferred the more complex kind of woman. The type of woman who would get my blood boiling and my adrenaline pumping. I loved the chase, I yearned for the fight, and I craved the rage. There was nothing better or more powerful than forcing a strong woman to her knees, to see equal measures of fight and surrender. I wanted to see obedience when I looked at a woman’s body, but I wanted to see the fire of her strength burn bright in her irises when I stared into her eyes. It was the most rewarding sight when you broke a strong-willed creature into submission, forcing her to accept that you were the ruler of the world she existed in. But her mind should be a fortress, a stronghold that would ensure she always stayed strong enough to handle the monster in me.
I watched patiently as Tatum still stared at the box, until finally she reached out but then pulled back. I almost laughed at her cowardly behavior. Not something I expected from a Linscott.
“She’s too scared, man.” Vico pulled his hands through his hair, barely containing his frustration. “She’s not going to fucking open it.”
“You need to work on your patience, little brother. Patience is a virtue.”
“Oh God, you know I hate it when you say shit like that.”
I lifted a brow. “Shit like what?”
He glanced my way. “Shit like, ‘patience is a virtue.’ You act like a fucking fifty-year-old with all the smart shit you like to say.”
I snorted, thinking about what an idiot he could be sometimes. “Smart shit? It’s idioms, Vico.”
“I don’t give a fuck what it is. It’s stupid.”
I scoffed at him, trying to ignore the fact that my little brother was starting to turn into a fucking jock, trying to act all cool with his slang, his ridiculous walk, which only made him seem arrogant and stupid rather than confident. And then there was that God-awful handshake he and his buddies always seemed to give each other. It was embarrassing to even witness.
Tatum moved, and I glanced at the monitor. When she reached out and finally picked up the box, adrenaline surged through my veins. I leaned with my hands on the table, next to Vico, fully focusing all my attention on her. I wanted to see her face when she opened that box, when she realized this wasn’t a dream but a goddamn nightmare—her nightmare.
“Open it, donna diavolo.” I gripped the edges of the table, feeling the thrill and the frustration burn in my gut.
Vico snorted. “Devil woman? Nice. Suits this bitch perfectly.”
I ignored him, since I was too busy willing Tatum to open the goddamn box.
Slowly, she pulled the white string, and as it fell to the sides, she leaned back while she stared at the box like she expected something to jump out of it.
“Open it,” I muttered, leaning closer to the monitor, fighting the urge to burst in there and force her to open it with my goddamn gun against her fucking skull.
She bit her thumbnail, and I could already hear the thoughts running through her mind, some telling her to leave the damn box alone, others urging her to open it, to find out what was inside.
F
inally, the latter won.
As she opened the box, my spine started tingling with expectation. God, it felt like I was seconds away from getting a fucking hard-on.
She looked down, and I knew exactly when she noticed what was inside. Her entire face turned a ghostly white just before she screamed and scampered off the bed, falling against the wall.
“Oh my God,” I heard her voice through the speakers. “Jesus Christ! What the fuck is this?” she screamed between tears.
It was fucking beautiful. It was almost poetic watching her crack, witnessing as her mind started to spin in a thousand different directions. Finally, after all these months of planning and plotting, the time had come—the time for me to exact the revenge I had vowed from the Linscotts. She had taken from me what I could never get back, and the only way I would be free of this burden I carried around deep in my soul was by spilling blood…her blood.
Vico glanced my way. “Game on, brother.”
I smiled as I started to taste the victory on my tongue. “Game on.”
Chapter 4
Tatum
“Oh my God.” I rocked back and forth, clutching my knees against my chest, my face buried between my arms. I didn’t want to look up. I couldn’t. What the fuck was happening? Who were these goddamn people? And why the fuck was there a severed finger in that motherfucking box?
Better yet, whose finger was it?
No, I didn’t want to know. All I wanted was to wake up and realize this was just the mother of all goddamn nightmares. Unfortunately, the longer I sat there, the more I realized this was all real. I’d been kidnapped. Carlo was dead. And his twin brother just left me a human finger in a box.
How could the Carlo I knew be a part of this family?
The Carlo I knew…
Did I really know him? Was the Carlo I knew the real Carlo, or was he pretending to be someone he wasn’t? Judging by what Castello told me, it seemed to be the latter, since I didn’t even know his real surname, and I sure as hell didn’t know his family.
Dynasty Page 3
