“No. I didn't tell you a single lie during our other talks, except for the fact that my Uncle Volodya's place wasn't really called the Red Eagle, and he never died on a Wednesday. That was code for Lev and Daniel to break me out.” I paused, reached over to the coffee pot, and poured myself a tall mug. “I blew that fucking place to kingdom come, and the only regret I've got about it is not having your asshole uncle there to die with the rest of those freaks.”
She shook her head. “Great. So you admit you're a killer.”
“Admit it?” I blinked. “I've never denied that shit once. I own the fuckers I kill. What you don't get is that every asshole I'd knifed or burned or shot has always had it coming. You really don't know shit about the underside of your family's business, do you? If you did, you'd know the guests Gioulio has at his parties are some of the most sadistic, twisted motherfuckers in the entire city.”
She looked at me like I'd just spat out a tall fucking tale. Okay, maybe I had, but this one was all true.
“What are you talking about? Don't tell me this is some kinda Eyes Wide Shut crap. You killed them in cold blood. All because my uncle was your target.”
“No. I wanted to make sure I killed all those fucks. I just missed a couple when Gioulio and his guards didn't show up on schedule. You're missing the point – none of them were collateral damage. All twenty of those assholes deserved to be executed. You don't know them. I do.”
Another shake of the head. Another flick of that dark, smooth hair. Fuck, how good would it feel to just grab it while I shoved my cock between her legs? I'd hold on and rock her, pluck it like reigns, just short of ripping it out while we fucked.
“If you want me to even consider a word you're saying, you'd better tell me what's going on.”
I folded my arms. “Not 'til you eat some more breakfast. Go on. I'll fucking wait.”
She glared. At first, I didn't think it was gonna work. But then her small hands reached for more muffins in the center of the table and another orange. I watched and waited as she ate, sipping my coffee, trying not to admire the cleavage peeking through her top too close.
Grigor and his maids did a good job picking out her wardrobe. Shit, she was dressed a lot like the Latvian girls I'd fucked a couple years ago, two dark haired, blue eyed chicks straight from the old world. They barely understood a word of English and even less Russian, but their cunts understood my dick pounding them to blubbering pieces. One of them tore stripes in my back when she clawed me, and a few warm streams of blood poured down my ass.
It was the roughest, craziest fuck of my life. And I had a damned certain feeling it wasn't half as intense as what I'd feel unloading my balls inside the Italian girl playing bitch across from me.
Sabrina's fork clanged on the ceramic plate when she was done. She blotted her mouth dry and then looked at me.
“There. Is there anything else you'd like before you can trust me with an adult conversation, instead of treating me like some little girl you've got locked up in your tower?”
The poison on her tongue made me grin. “Babe, you're gonna stay locked up for a good long while. Even when I tell you the crazy fucking truth, it's gonna take you time to chew on it. Digest it. But you'll turn on that fucker. You'll help me kill your uncle. I know you will.”
She waited. I swore I heard her foot tapping on the tile underneath the table.
Impatient. I liked that.
All right. Enough fucking around. It was time to let her know what really happened that night.
“It was an assassination, plain and simple. My brothers and I had enough intel to know how Gioulio ran these parties. Shit, he'd been doing them since your old man died and there was nobody left in the windy city to stand in his way. Drugs and guns are the bulk of this business. Always have been, always will be.
“But that shit's hard money. Your uncle wanted to diversify into something easier. Nothing like trafficking with some rich, well oiled assholes to bring in a few easy million more.”
I watched her jump and squirm in her seat. Heard her swallow before she spoke.
“Trafficking? Like...women?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Seems like no matter where you go, powerful fucks like to play devil when they're done pretending to be angels all day in front of the public. It's not all about the money either. By giving the high and mighty an outlet for their depraved desires, your uncle gave himself something sweet to hold over their fucked up heads if this city ever gets a mayor who wants to go tough on crime. Probably part of the reason Ligiotti business has been smooth as ice since your old man died.
“Gioulio's got himself a stable of girls he keeps for his boys. Slaves who have to do anything and everything short of holding out their throats to get cut.