He laughed.
He was a narcissistic stronzo so of course he did. The idea of taking his own life never would have occurred to him otherwise. He loved himself too much.
“How are you going to pull that off?” he asked, his words slurring just slightly.
His eyes were bloodshot, his skin clammy with cold sweat. He’d obviously had a lot to drink, which worked beautifully for me because it would only add to the tragic story.
“I’ve got a source that says The Times is writing an expose on you,” I said, conversationally, picking up a paperweight in the shape of the Statue of Liberty with my gloved hand. “They’re digging into your past. I also heard they got a tip that you grew up with a well-known Irish mobster by the name of Thomas Kelly and his associate, Seamus Moore. All of your cases will be invalidated because they’ll be able to shine a light on what a fucking scumbag you are.”
He stared at me, left eye twitching. “I’ve never done anything half so bad as you.”
“No, but then, you also haven’t done anything half so well or you wouldn’t be in this situation,” I pointed out helpfully.
“You’re a fucking bastard,” he ground out. “I’m not going to end myself because you think you can blackmail me.”
“Did I say I would stop with you?” I smiled handsomely. “No, why would I do that? You went for my wife, so why wouldn’t I go after your loved ones? Your mama up over Hoboken, your granny up in Albany. Did they raise you because your dad left when you were just a kid? I’m going to have men on every person you love, Dennis, because you set the rules for this game and in them, family was never off limits.”
Finally, he seemed to understand I wasn’t fucking around. His posture slumped in the chair, his eyes distant as he considered.
“Then there is that pretty assistant DA that’s been sucking your cock every day for the last two years. What’s her name…?” I snapped my fingers. “Angelica! Yeah, I got a man on Angelica right now.”
“You’re a monster,” he breathed.
I sat in the chair across the desk from him and leaned forward with my forearms on my thighs to smile ferally at him. “Yeah, I’m a monster, Dennis. Yet, you fucked with me and mine. You knew who I was, what I was, and you still thought you could get away with trying to ruin my life? Ruin Elena’s life?” I clucked my tongue against my teeth. “No, no one gets away with that.”
“I’ll leave you alone,” Dennis suggested, trying not to beg, his pride strangling him. “I won’t go after you again.”
I chuckled. “Cute, but too late. You made your fucking bed and now, you can lie in it six feet under.”
It was late and I wanted to get back to my wife, to a real bed for the first time in over a month, so I stood up to finish this even though I was having fun. I pulled the wrapped package from the back of my waistband and tossed it on the desk for him.
Dennis peeled back from the paper with trembling hands, pale and ugly as city doves.
He gaped at what lay inside.
“Your gun,” I pointed out. “The one Frankie and Elena stole when they were with you at the gun range. I brought it back to its rightful owner. I recommend using it to end your misery before it begins, O’Malley. Because if I don’t hear about your obituary in the news tomorrow. I’m going to come for you and your entire family until even they beg you to end yourself, capisci?
He didn’t answer, but then, I didn’t expect him to.
I left him staring blindly at the gun as if it held the questions to life’s mysteries like some crystal ball. And for him, it did.
He had two options and death was the least of them.
I walked back through the house, Addie joining me where he had been waiting as back up in the hall. He locked the door again behind me and then when we got into the waiting car down the street, Frankie armed the alarm once more.
We sat there for three hours before it happened.
The bang echoed through the peaceful neighborhood and sent a black cat scurrying across the street.
We drove home and when I crawled into bed with my wife, taking her in my arms, I had only sweet, golden dreams.
Thirty-One
Elena
We decided to throw a party and invited almost everyone we knew.
I even called my sister.
“Hello?” her soft voice floated over the phone.
I hesitated for a moment, caught up in the memories it evoked. Christopher and Daniel, my self-loathing and bitterness.
Dante laughed across the room in the kitchen where he was pouring glasses of champagne for Tore and his crew.