The boy wept quietly. He suddenly hiccupped loudly. Ezra threw a can of peanuts at him and yelled at him to shut up. The boy didn’t respond or look up. Ezra leapt up, crossed the room immediately and grabbed the child by his hair, dragging him to the bathroom. Elie could see the bathtub was filled with water and Ezra clearly intended to push the child’s head under.
Elie came out of the shadows just as Ezra reached the tub. Grasping Ezra’s head, he wrenched, delivering the kill, and immediately stepped back into the shadows. For the first time in his life, he regretted the speed with which riders dispatched their targets. Because he wasn’t certain that letting Ezra die so easily was actually justice. If anyone deserved to suffer before they died, Ezra Mendoza did. Then Elie was riding a fast shadow, one that moved like greased lightning to Enrico’s house.
He passed Riccardo, who was hurrying toward his son’s home, using the shortcut through the garden. Enrico’s house wasn’t the big showcase his parents’ was, but inside, it was quite luxurious. Cinder had a fur wrapped around her and was parading up and down in front of Enrico.
“We could have all the girls wrapped in furs and nothing else, do something entirely different for the auction. They could crawl onto the stage with tails and ears. Their handlers could be dressed in jungle gear or something like that. The music could be amped up, real exciting, maybe rap. We could get someone to write the lyrics we want. If we serve drinks and just edge them with that wonderful drug like we did last time, we could rake in so much money, Enrico. What do you think?”
Enrico drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “I think you are a genius, Cinder. Do you have ideas for the staging?”
Cinder tossed the mink to one side and rushed over to a small desk where she had a drawing pad laid out. “I do. I’ve been working on this idea for a few days. I thought you’d like it. Watching you at the club with those two girls, getting them to obey you, making them crawl to you, was so inspiring. I wanted to create something really special.”
Elie came up behind Enrico. The man leaned forward in his chair, eyes on his wife. His breathing had changed. He was clearly aroused at the thought of the things Cinder had planned for the next auction and he couldn’t wait to hear about it.
Elie came out of the shadow just as Mariko did. Enrico started to stand, seeing a woman emerge behind his wife, grasping her head in her hands. Elie had him in the death grip and wrenched. The pair died at the same time. Riccardo rushed into the room as the two bodies dropped to the floor.
Riccardo stared at them in horror and then he screamed. Swore revenge. Tried calling Valentino again, but only got his voice mail. This time, he didn’t seem to care if the feds were listening.
“Call them off, Val. Make them stop. They’re killing everyone. I know it’s them. Everyone is dead. My money is gone. My ships are gone. Everyone is dead. My sons. My wife. My . . .” He broke off.
Riccardo ignored Enrico’s two security guards, who rushed in the room when they heard him yelling. Both went straight to the bodies and then looked at him with suspicion. Imbeciles. Where had they been when Archambault or Ferraro had become the devil and killed his sons? Screaming in fury, he pulled out his gun and shot both of the guards.
He hurried out. His parents lived on the property. The last of his family that could be alive, other than his grandchildren and two daughters. One daughter in Houston and one in Spain. At least they were both alive. Claudia, in Spain, was untouchable. No one would dare go near her. She was married to Guillem Toselli. Unless Guillem’s father, Arnau, lost his mind and decided to kill Claudia in revenge for Valeria’s death, Claudia was safe.
Riccardo’s old man lived by the sword, had taught him everything he knew. He went to him often to discuss his business dealings. Riccardo had always admired his father. He loved his mother and the way she cared for his father. He got to the little cottage the pair had insisted was all they wanted, right in the middle of the garden.
There was no sound and his heart began to beat too fast. He knocked, but then just opened the door and went in the way he always did. His parents sat together in front of the television the way they always did, watching old reruns of sitcoms. He knew they were dead the moment he stepped into the room.
He dropped into a chair and began to rock back and forth, grief welling up.
A voice came from the shadows. Low. Hard. Cold. And familiar. “These people you love, Riccardo, that’s just a small fraction of the way I love Brielle. You tried to take her from me. This man you have in Stefano’s hotel, the one you think will be able to get to her, will be dead before he gets anywhere close to her. And if you’re counting on Toselli to exact revenge on your behalf, don’t. He’s about to experience the same thing you just have. No one goes after my wife and gets away with it.”