Ruthless Monarch

So now I’m in the car with Lorenzo trying to figure out who the fuck took it.

It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize it was Salvatore. However, how Salvatore found out about it is a whole other problem. One: I’m being watched. Two: There is a mole.

Neither option is good.

The only saving grace at this point is that it’s not one of the shipments that came from the warehouse. This was a shipment of goods in storage for a few weeks, and we only got around to moving it today.

This means the tight group of people who know about the toy factory are good.

I’m leaning toward the fact that I’m probably being watched.

Of course, it’s not unheard of that there could be a mole, but my men have all been with me for years, and before they were my men, they or someone in their family was with my father.

Knowing we’ve been compromised, I choose to meet my men at the old warehouse. It could be a trap, but I’m willing to take a chance rather than lead someone to my other location.

“Be diligent,” I bark at Lorenzo as we weave through traffic to get to where we need to go.

“We aren’t being followed.”

“That might be the case, but there’s a good chance they know we’re coming. There’s an even a better chance they’re already there.”

“You think we’re walking into an ambush?” His brows furrow.

“I’m one hundred percent sure we’re walking into an ambush,” I confirm.

“If that’s the case, why are you telling the men to go there?”

“Because in this case, I can dictate the outcome. Call up the men. I want them to know to expect anything. Do we have masks in the car?”

“We do.”

“Everyone is to wear a mask. We’re going to fumigate the place before anyone steps inside. If anyone is there, we will knock them on their ass. If not, well, then we are one canister short, but at least we know.”

“Okay. I’ll make the call.”

With that conversation done, I turn to look out the window. The sky is gray now, and the sun hides behind a cloud. It looks like a storm will hit soon. How different the sky is now from earlier.

Today was a good day. Then some asshole had to fuck it up for me.

Viviana was finally starting to let down her guard.

Then everything was ruined.

This could derail my plan to seduce my wife.

I could have handled it better. Not only did I lose millions but I also have to figure out if it was my cousin or someone else.

It’s bad enough to fight one war.

But having to fight two fronts . . .

That never works out well.

Look at Napoleon, for example, he had a hard enough time before the Russian winter kicked his ass.

It takes forty more minutes before we are ready. Half the men pulled up from the back. The other from the side.

I’m coming in from the front.

Lorenzo is ahead of me. He opens the door and throws the tear gas in. My hand lifts as I count off. At one, my signal, we all charge.

The smoke starts to clear a minute later, and three men are on the floor, clutching their faces with machine guns beside them. They’re packing some pretty heavy machinery.

“Get the rope.” I turn to Lorenzo. “You get chairs.”

My men get to work tying up the intruders.

It’s not long before the gas wears off, and they start to realized what’s happened.

“So, which one of you is going to tell me who you work for?”

None of them answer me.

“Is that how you guys are going to play it?” When no one speaks again, I shrug. “Very well, this is much more fun.” I turn behind me to Lorenzo. “Do we have truth serum?”

“Not on us, Boss.”

“Okay. You heard him. This is not going to be easy . . .”

I’m handed pliers, and I step up to the first man. He’s older than me, probably by ten years. His hair is salt-and-pepper, and his face has a beard. I would put him in his late forties. If he works for Salvatore, he’s probably a connection his father had made.

“Last chance to speak.” Nothing. I give him a sardonic smile. “Let the games begin.”

Lorenzo steps up beside me. This is not our first rodeo. He holds the man’s head, grips his jaw, and opens it. With the pliers in hand, I lean forward.

“You sure . . .” I trail off for emphasis. At this point in the torture, I’m not really asking if he’s sure. There’s nothing he could do to stop this. His front tooth will be coming out, but I love to toy with my prey first.

I put the metal around his tooth, grip it, and then twist. A bloodcurdling scream echoes through the large cavernous space of my warehouse.