I almost snorted. Ciro rarely called me Ghost. He was doing it now to emphasize for poor Robert Miller just who exactly had him in their clutches. And it worked because Robert Miller started thrashing about. Too bad for him, that chair was solidly bolted to the floor.
I stood up, smoothing out my slacks and adjusting my cuff links, as I strolled over to Ciro. Casual was only permitted at home. We always wore suits or dress clothing.
Always.
“Let me guess,” I replied. “Michael, overhearing this conversation, wanted to protect his sister and snagging that gun at the last minute was a desperate decision?”
“Ding, ding, ding,” Ciro sing-songed. “Give the man a prize.” Ciro went back to his tray of goodies. “Robert was scheduled to go by and collect his…purchase tonight, and Michael wanted to be ready and waiting for him.” Ciro smiled at me. “Guess what Robert found instead?”
I smirked. “You?”
His grin widened. “Me,” he confirmed.
I picked up a scalpel. “What happened with the mother?”
The revulsion on his face turned his otherwise good looks wicked. “She’s been dealt with. And Michael and his sister are now staying with their mother’s cousin, where they will be safe.”
I put the scalpel down and picked up the mallet. “That’s good,” I said conversationally. I glanced over at the asshole tied to the chair. “And I take it Robert, here, swore it was a misunderstanding.”
Ciro laughed. “Yeah, but only after I kicked his ass and secured him to the chair. Before that, he was telling me shit was none of my business.”
I tsk’ed. “Not good.”
“Oh, well, then you’ll love this,” Ciro added cheerfully. “He also told me I could suck his dick and to go fuck myself.”
I laughed.
I couldn’t help it.
See, Ciro’s claim to fame was a bit unconventional. When someone was unfortunate enough to cross his path, he didn’t order a group of guys to beat his latest toy into submission. He didn’t knock the guy out and then tie him up. Nope. Ciro abducted his prey and then gave the poor soul a chance to save himself. Ciro meets with the guy, one-on-one, and if the guy can beat Ciro, he lets them go. If he can’t, well…they end up in the chair poor Richard Miller is currently sitting in. Ciro had his own code of honor and it didn’t involve kicking a man when he was down. No. Ciro was a man’s man, and he took down his prey fairly, but ruthlessly. In the entire six years that we’ve been doing this, Ciro has never lost a fight. It could be because he was trained in more than one fighting discipline or because he was simply crazy, but whatever it was, Ciro was unbeatable. Unfortunately for the women who’ve crossed his path, they didn’t get that same chance to escape. Ciro wasn’t fond of beating women, so he usually just got down to business and killed them if the job was a female. However, Luca was good at leaving the women to the Benetti members who were able to stomach that shit.
“Was that before or after he knew who you were?” I asked. “I mean, did the urine stain come before or after you told him The Son had found him?”
“Before,” Ciro confirmed. “Once he knew who I was, well…I’m just grateful he didn’t shit himself.”
I put the mallet down and examined ice pick. “That’ll come later,” I predicted because it always did. I looked at Ciro. “No screaming?”
He shook his head. “Nah, not this time. I got a bitch of a headache what with Frankie coming back.” And here I thought I was the only one on pins and needles. “She’s waited six years to cuss us out. I can’t imagine it’ll be pretty.”
I didn’t want to talk about Frankie just yet. It was the whole reason I crashed Ciro’s party for two. I wanted to get my mind off the unknown. I jerked my chin towards Richard Miller. “What are you going to do first?”
Ciro turned to face Richard, and we stood side by side studying the piece of shit, who was still pleading for his life behind the handkerchief. Ciro cocked his head and those amber eyes of his, the ones that have haunted me for six years because they were the same ones that decorated Frankie’s face, narrowed a bit. “Well, since I’m not trying to get information out of him and I’m crunched for time because of Frankie, I’m thinking I might just start at the top and work my way down.”
“Eyes first?”
Ciro looked over at me. “You think?” Again, this was all for show. Ciro didn’t need me to tell him the quickest and most efficient way to kill someone. Ciro was the professional torturer here, not me. I was just helping him mentally torture Robert Miller.
I shrugged a shoulder. “If you’re pressed for time, blinding him will heighten his fear as he won’t be able to see what’s coming next.”
“Too true,” he commented as if he was in deep thought.
I made a show of glancing at my watch. “You have good two hours before you have to shower and change,” I told him.
“Just me?” Ciro knew there was a reason I crashed his party, and he knew the reason was Frankie. He also knew I needed to work out my anxiousness before meeting up with her.
“Okay. Us,” I clarified.
Ciro dropped on his haunches, so he was face-to-face with Robert Miller. “Look at you, being all special,” he taunted. “You got me and The Holy Ghost, bud. And that doesn’t happen often.”
Robert Miller’s eyes were the size of saucers. He started thrashing about again, but he had to know it was futile at this point. No one ever escaped Ciro Mancini. Besides, we’ve already mentioned Frankie’s name and the fact that she was back. That, alone, signed
