I play it too much.
Thinkin’ on the fact that I got scammed by Raymond Iadanza of all people. That he scammed me and took Violet from me. That she could’ve been mine. That I should’ve been smarter. That she could’ve avoided three years of being fucked over by him, of ever even being touched, let alone fucked by him. That I should never have taken the bet. That his hands should never fucking ever have touched even a hair on her head.
I should not have taken that goddamn bet. Regardless of being cheated or not, it shouldn’t have happened.
I know she wants me to let it go. I know she doesn’t want violence. I know I want to be the man she’s falling for, a man that rescued her and lets karma deal, but although I’d already taken steps to let karma deal with him after what he did to that old lady with dementia – it’s not enough. This shit will not fucking stand.
Finding out he cheated changes things. It doesn’t change how I feel about her; if anything my feelings are stronger because it didn’t have to be this way. She didn’t have to go through that. But it changes things for him. I can barely think of anything besides revenge. It’s been eating at me.
He fucked me. He knows he fucked me. He’s walked around for three years after fucking cheating me, getting Violet as his reward. And ruining her life.
She hasn’t seen how much it’s gotten to me because it’s been a busy few days dealing with the bullshit revolving around my former employee Amber, her thug boyfriend Felix Hoffman and all that bullshit at the clubs and Will’s house Sunday night.
I needed to put a stop to this bullshit. It’s piddly shit that I don’t have time for, but I had some muscle pay that cockroach Hoffman a visit and teach him a lesson he won’t soon forget for fucking with me.
I’ve also had Alana and Tony pay a friendlier visit to Amber’s mother with an offer to pay to put her into rehab one more time with a subtle warning that she and her boyfriend should cease fucking with me immediately. Amber’s mother insists that she’s a good girl, that any bullshit was all on Hoffman, not her daughter.
The Raymond shit has swirled around in my brain, taunting me. My regrets. My anger. Things Violet said about Iadanza using intimidation, screaming in her face, hitting walls, frightening her, terrorizing her. Putting his filthy fucking mitts on her.
That piece of garbage did those things to her and then lay beside her at night with the knowledge that he cheated me in order to have her.
So Monday, I had a drink with and made arrangements with Henny, offering him stakes in a second online casino I’m planning to launch, leveling with him that Violet used to be with Iadanza and that it happened because he fucked me over. Henny loves women, sleeps around even though he has a wife. But the man loves his woman and has three daughters with another on the way. He was only too happy to wade in, knowing he’d get a piece of my next business venture for what he was about to help orchestrate.
Later that same day he approached Sandra Iadanza with money and the offer to get Raymond out, telling me he doesn’t want no part in what I do to Iadanza, just wants to know that whatever it is, it’ll hurt.
I assure him that yes, it will hurt.
Henny’s kind-hearted and does shit for the neighborhood, so if word got out he was helping out, most people wouldn’t bat an eye. Sandra Iadanza cares about herself and I don’t know how he framed the offer to her, but he told me he told her there was money in it for her after the court date. I don’t know the rest of the details and don’t care.
The waiting game of just a couple days was still too long of feeling like I wanted to crawl out of my skin with the urge to inflict pain on that fucker. My patience has been tried and tested and now it’s time.
Now… knowing he’s here, I should be about to start feeling right again. Sleeping again. Getting the fucked-up dreams to stop.
I descend the stairs into the basement to meet up with the Rossi brothers. The light is on, but I see nobody when I get to the bottom of the stairs because it’s filled with construction materials as well as debris. By design. Looks like a basement in the midst of being renovated.
Deeper into the space and around a corner that blocks the view to the stairs, I see them standing outside the open door to the cold cellar room. Nino hands me the spare keys. I know that this time – the second time I’m going to take a life out of vengeance, it’s not going to fucking go quickly. Oh no. It’s going to be slow. Extra-slow.