Chapter 51: How to Kill a Rat

HAYLEY

“So that’s how I managed to make nearly three grand in twenty minutes last night.” Ava finished her very graphic story with a naughty wink.

Hayley looked at her blonde-haired friend. Here in Dublin, she just looked like a cute girl who couldn’t possibly know about half the things she’d just described.

But appearances could be deceiving. Hayley knew that better than anyone.

Ava kept twittering on about her days in the Venetian below as Hayley made drinks behind the bar and served the early evening clientele.

After a wonderful night of music and dancing, Hayley had woken to find Luca’s side of the bed empty and a note explaining that he wouldn’t be home until late.

Frankie and Ric had taken her to work, and as she’d passed Tony guarding the doors of the Dublin, it occurred to her that she’d become accustomed to being around gangsters.

It had been an unsettling thought.

“So how are things going with Mr. On-Again-Off-Again?” Hayley asked as she placed another drink in front of her friend.

“Him!” Ava spat out, and Hayley raised her eyebrows. “He can go to hell for all I care.” She took a big chug from her glass.

“Okay…”

Ava seemed angry, hurt, perhaps even a little heartbroken.

“He’s not the one. I mean, I want him to be…”

“But…” Hayley walked around to sit on the free stool next to Ava. The club was buzzing, but it wasn’t packed. Her guys could manage.

Ava looked down at her drink. “He has a really important job, and he’ll forever choose that over me.” She sighed and looked up at Hayley. “How have you kept Luca?

“I mean, a few weeks ago, he was in the Venetian with every feather girl. Now he only visits when he needs to see Siobhan, and even that’s a rarity.”

Hayley wasn’t sure how to answer Ava’s question. But a part of her had believed Luca still went to the Venetian, so it made her happy to hear that he was only with her.

“Luca and I are in a trial relationship,” she began. “If we don’t like it, we’ll part ways like it never happened. It’s a way to see if he and I can make things work.”

“Is he difficult to live with?”

Hayley smirked. “You have no idea. The man is intense.” They both laughed. “But I’m no saint, either. I’m moody and just as bad to live with.”

They sat for a while discussing anything and everything until Ava’s shift was due to start and she had to leave.

“Hello, Hayley.”

She jumped off the stool, her heart racing.

“Oh, great. It’s you,” she muttered when she recognized Max. She walked back behind the bar.

Max casually leaned on the bar top. “I knew you’d warm up to me.” He laughed dryly.

Hayley just raised her brow. “What do you want, Max?” she asked as she retrieved some glasses and placed them under the bar.

“He wants us to be more alert,” he said in a low voice, “and a little more helpful.”

“I can’t give him any more than I am,” Hayley lied. She could—she knew a lot—but she wouldn’t admit to that.

“Well then, step it up. Though the detective thinks this will all fall down around the families’ ears anyway.”

“Why?” Hayley asked, feigning innocence.

“It just will. Genovese has an ego on him, Marcello loves to be in control, and Borroni is a fruit loop. Seriously, that guy is nuts.”

Hayley couldn’t argue with any of these points, especially the part about Borroni.

“Luca is up to something tonight. Any ideas?”

Hayley shook her head. That was the truth—she hadn’t a clue.

“He just said he’d be back late.” Hayley sighed. What was he up to?

“Well, all I know is he’s kicked every man out of his warehouse. He, his two right hands, and a couple of his best guys are there.”

“Aww…you’re jealous you’re not one of his best,” Hayley teased, and he shot her a dark look.

“Seriously. You have to find out what he’s up to. But right now, look at your phone and get your shit together. I’ll meet you outside.”

Hayley went to speak, but he disappeared into the crowd. She pulled out her phone. There was a voicemail from Luca.

“Hey, Hayley. I’m going to need Ric and Tony, so Max and Dante will take you home when you finish. I’ll be back late. See you later.”

He sounded so formal and assertive, which made her believe he wasn’t alone when he made that call. She also noticed a text from Siobhan.

Siobhan

The Venetian is not busy so I’m coming to look after the Dublin at 8ish. Just head off, goodnight.

Hayley looked at her phone. It was a little before eight. She noticed Siobhan talking to security, so she grabbed her stuff and left the Dublin.

Max was leaning against the back passenger side door having a cigarette. There was a driver up front who smiled and winked at her as she approached. He must be Dante.

“You got the boss’s message?” Max said breezily as he opened the door for her, but she shot him a dark look as she stepped into the blacked-out SUV.

“Obviously.”

“Hey.” Dante grinned at her through the rearview mirror. “I’m Dant—”

“Shut the fuck up and drive, Dante,” Max interrupted. “Remember what the boss said.”

Dante pulled away from the curb sheepishly.

“You don’t have to be rude,” Hayley hissed at Max from the back seat.

He glared at her through the rearview mirror, but she ignored him.

“Nice to meet you, Dante, I’m Hayley.” She smiled and he smiled back, then she pulled out her phone to text Luca.

Hayley

I’m heading home now, I’m going to have dinner, a glass of wine and have a long soak in the bath. See you later. X

LUCA

Luca looked down at the text message Hayley sent him and smiled as he read she’d be having a bath. Damn, he wished he was there instead of here, but he had a job to do.

“The warehouse cleared out?” he asked Nic as they walked through the derelict building.

“Yep, just us and the Phoenix men.”

Luca nodded.

Not just anyone could be a Phoenix man. They were his best soldiers, and they wore the Marcello phoenix with pride.

Frankie walked ahead of Nic and Luca to the large room that held the Borroni rat.

The man was tied to a chair in the center of the room, with a brown sack over his head. Ric and Dom stood at the door waiting for orders, while Tony and Angelo, one of Frankie’s older cousins, stood in the two far corners.

Luca looked at Tony and nodded, and Tony walked forward and removed the sack.

“Angelo, Tony, wait outside. Any sign of anyone, you let us know.”

They left immediately.

“W-what the hell is this?” the rat asked, looking at the three Marcello men in front of him.

Luca said nothing as he nodded toward Frankie, who gave a dark smile back before setting his bag on the steel table just a little way from the rat.

“W-we…we…we’re in an alliance!” he yelled when Frankie started pulling out a drill, a hacksaw, and various other tools.

“Problem is, Russo, we aren’t sure you know which family you belong to,” Luca said coldly as Frankie removed his jacket and tie and rolled up his sleeves.

“My…I…I’m a Borroni man,” he stammered, his eyes on Frankie as he pressed the button of the drill a few times to rev it up.

Luca shook his head. “You’re a dirty rat, Russo.”

The man’s face dropped, and he went a shocking shade of white.

“I…I’m—”

“Dom, what does a man like you—like Russo—vow when you join la famiglia?” Luca asked, keeping his fierce gaze on the rat.

“Loyalty and silence, Boss,” Dom said, not moving from his post.

“Nic?”

“Loyalty and silence, Boss.”

“You, Russo, forgot about that when you let your tongue wag about your famiglia to a cop.”

Luca approached the Borroni rat slowly, then sighed heavily and removed his jacket and tie before handing them to Nic. Like Frankie, he rolled up his sleeves, revealing his ink.

He held out his hand, and Frankie gave him a small switchblade.

“Pl—”

“~Shut up, you dirty little bastard~,” Luca growled in Italian, enjoying the fear that flashed in the rat’s eyes as he toyed with the knife. “What have you told him?”

Russo shook his head, and Luca laughed, low and dark.

He moved around the rat—running the knife along his body, then bringing it to his neck as he stood behind him. He could smell the fear on him.

“Frankie and I are experts at killing rats. We make little rats sing. We make little rats confess their biggest secrets as they take their final breaths.”

Luca pressed the knife harder, piercing the skin, making the rat whimper in pain and fear.

“I never told him much!” he cried out.

“Why bother protecting the cop? We know who he is; we know you work for him.” Luca pressed even harder, and he could feel the blood trickling down his hand as he spoke. “You’re going to die anyway, so what can he do to you?”

To Luca’s annoyance, the rat remained silent. Luca sighed and removed the knife, causing the rat to gasp, then sheathed the bloody blade and shoved it into his pocket.

“Golf club?” Frankie asked, holding up the well-used 7-iron.

Luca walked casually around the man, took the golf club in his hands, and gave it a good test swing. He could hear the air whistle with the force.

“Kneecaps?” Luca looked at Frankie—who smiled like the devil he was—then swung the club at the rat’s left leg. The ~crack~ of his bones breaking cut right through his piercing scream.

“The less you tell us, the more I will hurt you,” Luca stated coldly. “I will hurt you until you’re no longer able to talk. But talk, and we’ll kill you instantly.”

But the rat mumbled and shook his head.

For good measure, Luca took a second swing at the broken left leg. The rat sobbed hysterically after the second blow.

“Did you tell him about my little casino party?”

The rat shook his head and looked up at Luca with tears streaming down his face. “No, no, it wasn’t me!”

“Okay, then who was it?”

The man dropped his head, refusing to speak.

“Wow, you ~do~ have some loyalty!” Luca took the golf club to his right leg, and the man screamed. “Shame you showed so little for your family and your boss.”

Then for good measure, he took another swing at the rat’s right leg.

Luca threw the golf club to the ground, and Frankie picked up the drill and looked at Luca, eyebrows raised.

“Go for it, Frankie. A drill will make him talk.”

“Dental work?”

Luca shook his head; he needed the rat to be intelligible for a little longer. “No, just his arms.”

Frankie shrugged and got to work, and Luca watched calmly as the man yelled, screamed, and struggled against Frankie.

Frankie ignored his pleas as he held the rat’s wrist and began to drill the arm that was strapped to the chair. The man was in agony now, and Luca heard his bone crunch as the drill hit it and then went through.

Luca wasn’t a fan of torture. However, his father had taught him it was sometimes necessary to get the answers he needed from men like Russo.

Frankie, on the other hand, seemed to enjoy it when he believed a guy deserved it.

“Stop! Okay! I’ll tell you!” the guy screamed after the third hole had been drilled into his arm.

The man was weak from blood loss. He’d already taken a heavy beating from Angelo and Dom when they picked him up, and blood had pooled on the floor around his feet from the trauma to his legs.

Luca walked over to the man, whose head was hanging down, and grabbed a fistful of his hair, then yanked his head up and looked into his weak, glassy eyes.

“Who led the cop to my casino?” Luca asked again. This time would be the last time.

“I don’t know names,” Russo said weakly, ashamed and broken. “But I know they’re in your camp.”

~The fuck?~ Luca gripped his hair harder.

“The cop,” Russo breathed out shakily. “He’s proud of the ones in your family. They’re helping him the most.”

Luca couldn’t contain his rage—it blurred everything—and he went psycho on the rat, his fists coming down hard on the already broken face, causing blood to splatter his clean, white shirt.

“Luca!” Nic shouted when Russo began to lose consciousness.

He stopped the assault but kept the rat’s head pulled back. “Names! I need fucking names!”

But Russo shook his head frantically. “Please! I don’t know anything else. I did this to protect my family, get out of—”

“I don’t give a ~shit~ why you did it. Family. Never. Fucking. Talks.” Luca looked into the rat’s frightened eyes. “No excuses. All rats must die, and you, little rat, ~will~ die. But not quite yet.”

Frankie handed Luca some gloves, which he put on before grabbing the rat’s hair again. Frankie then gave him a pair of sharp surgical scissors.

“Rats don’t talk,” Luca informed the rat.

“No!” That was the last muffled word from the traitor before Luca expertly removed his tongue. Frankie held out a box, and Luca dropped the tongue into it.

“Now you will die,” Luca murmured to the man, as blood poured from his mouth. “Frankie, grab your shit and let’s get out of here. Nic, take a picture of the rat and send it to Vitali as proof of what happened.

“Ric, everything ready?”

“Yes, Boss,” Ric replied.

Luca put the scissors into Frankie’s bag of tricks and picked up the golf club, placing it casually over his shoulder. “Let’s go.”

Luca led the way out of the warehouse, where the rest of his Phoenix men were waiting.

“Torch the place,” he said to Frankie. “Then send the cop Russo’s tongue with a note saying ‘Rats don’t talk, Adam Marino.’” He turned to address his men.

“Now, boys, let’s go exterminate some rats.”