I was even more pissed and frustrated when I left the Bernini mansion than I was when I walked in. Vinci showed me the security cam footage and it was very clear that the guy with the snake tattoo followed Bernoulli, which made him the main suspect in Bernoulli's murder.
However, the revelation unveiled more questions and I was yet to connect all dots.
Certainly, the fact that Bernoulli was murdered the same night that I had beaten the shit out of him might have just been a mere coincidence, but what if it was more than that? What if this situation had been designed to screw me over?
Vinci Bernini was not the strongest and most influential Mafia boss I knew, but his family resources put him high in the family hierarchy. Others respected him and would easily take his side if he decided to go to war against me. I was glad that I had carefully diffuse that bomb, but I knew it was a time bomb, and that sooner or later, the war would come. This attack was far from over, and, no doubt, Greg's murder was just another step in those fuckers' plan, a piece in the puzzle.
Greg's father might be my business partner, but that didn't mean he would not have thought of making a plan–if he didn't already hatch one–
Greg's and Bernoulli's deaths were connected and no doubt I was the common factor. It was either about me, my club, or simply about my status as the future Don Giacomo.
Surely, I couldn't care less about Bernoulli, but Greg was just a kid and as much as I would like to believe his death wasn't connected to me, I knew this wasn't the case. Someone used this kid as a cannon fodder, and I was going to hunt him. And when I found him, I would skin him alive. Literally.
My phone buzzed and I pulled it out of my pocket. It was Julio. I hurriedly swiped my fingers over the screen, taking the call. "Speak," I grunted as I opened my car door and sat behind the wheel.
"We found the cunt responsible," he announced. "He's in the basement now."
My free hand turned into fists. "Who's he?"
"Some dude named Lorenzo Perkins," he replied. "He's half Italian."
"And you're sure he's the one?" I queried even though I had no need to. Julio and his team was good.
"We confirmed that his pass was used to let our tattooed guy in. And then, we found proof that he was actually working with the fucker.
I ground my teeth. "This Lorenzo...is he one of the new guys?"
"No," Julio replied, heaving a heavy sigh. "And that's the whole point. He's been working with us for a while. He even signed the confidentiality clause which meant he was very much aware of how we operate."
"Then he must know that he would die," I said and Julio let out an agreeing grunt.
"Did you find out anything from Vinci?" he inquired.
His question made me even more frustrated. "He's not one of Vinci's," I replied. Then I leaned my head against the seat and drew a deep breath. "There's more. He also showed up at Bernoulli's mansion the night he was murdered. It's possible this tattooed son of a bitch killed Bernoulli."
I heard Julio mutter curses. "Then we'll have to question the wanker in the basement. If anyone has anything for us, it's him."
"I'll be there in twenty minutes," I said and ended the call.
I shoved the phone into my pocket and started the engine. And as my fingers tightened around the wheel, bloodthirst roared in my veins and my mind devised cruelly creative ideas to get this little snitch to talk. Usually I would have left all the fun to Julio, but not this time.
Maybe when we were done with him, we would even hang his body for the rest of the staff to see–a warning for them to know what would happen if they dared betray me.
I got to the mansion in less than twenty minutes and hurried to the corridor leading to the elevator–the only one going to the lower levels.
Vincenzo emerged from the opposite direction and hurried towards me. That reminded me that I had yet to have a sit down with him about the way he treated my wife. But I didn't plan to have the talk now. The cunt waiting below was my priority.
Vincenzo, however, would not let me ignore him. He quickened his pace to match mine and cleared his throat.
"I must say, Signore, that future Mrs Giacomo is more insufferable than I expected her to be. And Mr Pierro–"
"Think carefully before you say another word, Vincenzo," I warned balefully.
He squared his shoulders but his pace remained brisk. "Your grandfather so much valued my opinion. And I am aware that Signore cherishes...different values...but I would like if you allowed me to speak my mind."
I turned briskly to face him, a hard glare in my eyes. "Let me hear it then. Spill it," I bawled.
"I see that Miss McMahon is...attractive," he began cautiously. "But she doesn't belong here. There's not an ounce of authority within her. She was raised to be a victim and not a leader."
My jaw clenched. "She will learn," I said. "Julio will help her and so will you."
He huffed out a laugh, still following me. "I hope this is a joke."
"It is not," I said firmly.
"This is not something you can learn in a matter of days," he argued. "It requires talent. And although I believe Miss McMahon is quite talented, I believe her talent lies elsewhere." He paused and sneered. "Her talent lies between her thighs and I'm sure some other men must have discovered it–"
I grabbed the collar of his impeccable white shirt and slammed him into the wall. The push knocked the air out of his lungs and his eyes grew wide.
"You're forgetting yourself, Vincenzo," I warned through clenched teeth. "For years you had my utmost gratitude for what you did back then. But you used every ounce of it. Don't cross the final line. You won't be able to endure the consequences."
His mouth opened and closed as if it had taken all of his strength to keep himself from spilling another shit from his mouth. His throat bobbed as he studied me, realizing that this was a fight that he couldn't win.
"Truthfully, I didn't expect you to protect a woman you barely know," he muttered.
A cold smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. "I suggest you never test me in that matter. You might find out she's more important to me than you are."
I watched him work his jaw. Had it been anyone else who had said the shitty comments he made, they wouldn't be able to speak again their entire life. The respect I had for Vincenzo granted him my leniency but it was also better if he knew his place.
"Is my fiancee in the mansion?" I asked after a moment of silence. "
I purposely the fiancee and watched his fingers ball into fists.
He drew a breath and shook his head. "No."
"Where's she?" I asked.
"She returned from the hospital and went to some workshop of hers...to paint," he replied.
"I see," I remarked with a slight nod before walking to the elevator and pressing the call button. The doors slid open and I stepped into the car.
"Would you kill for her?" Vincenzo called out, fixing his stare on me.
"If someone tried to hurt her?" I asked with a sly smile. "Yes. Yes, I would take them to the grave."
His brows knitted. "Forgive me for wondering how she managed to earn your loyalty over such a short period."
I chuckled and shook my head. "This is not about loyalty. It's much more simpler than that," I replied with a dark smile on my lips. "Stephanie is mine. I won't let anyone touch her."
I released the buttons holding the doors, letting them close as I watched Vincenzo's eyes flare up with anger. I couldn't care less about his anger or his opinion. Stephanie would become my wife and I didn't need his approval for that. If he has a trouble with that, then maybe it was time for him to leave, because my decision sure as hell wouldn't change.