Riccardo (7 page)

CHAPTER EIGHT

RICCARDO

As soon as I walked into the club, I knew it wasn’t going to be a quiet night like I’d hoped. From the moment I saw Ronnie threatening a patron with her infamous cricket bat she kept under the bar, I realised I should have stayed away.

Walking straight up to the guy, I grabbed his shoulder in a firm grip and felt him flinch beneath my hand. “This guy giving you trouble, Ronnie?” I asked.

“He's a fucking dick. I've warned him to keep his hands to himself numerous times, but he’s still fucking touching,” she explained, waving the bat at the guy. “I swear if he touches Angel one more time, I will cut his fucking hand off myself.”

This guy must have really pushed his luck, because Ronnie never hands out empty threats. Angel is one of the sweetest dancers we have here, so we all feel extra protective of her. No doubt that played a major part in Ronnie’s aggression.

Tightening my grip on his shoulder, I pushed him towards the entrance doors and motioned for him to get out. “It looks like you’ve worn out your welcome. If you don’t learn to keep your hands off the girls, you’ll be banned permanently, unless Ronnie removes your hands first.”

“The crazy bitch won’t get anywhere near me,” he grumbled, stumbling on his feet from my not so gentle shove into the car park.

“I wouldn't count on that,” I said, making my way back to the bar through the doors of the club.

“Thanks, Capo. Here, pull up a stool and I’ll pour you a scotch,” Ronnie offered.

She slid a glass across the bar before I was even seated. “Cheers, Ronnie. I certainly need a drink tonight.”

“I thought everyone was at the little man’s party? We’re closing up early.” She glanced down at her watch. “In about a half hour actually, so we can all join the celebration.”

Looking around the room, I noticed that even though she planned to close early, there was a fairly large crowd enjoying the show, which gave me a believable excuse as to why I, The Capo, would be missing The Don’s son’s first birthday party. “I came to make sure none of the patrons give you any trouble when you kick them out early.”

“Thanks for that,” she said as she took an order slip off one of the topless waitresses.

"I really don't want to make your day any worse, but Uncle Joey was in here earlier. The things he was saying about Matias had me worried. He hates him and the fact that he'll take control of the
famiglia
after Sebastiano, leaving his son, Aldo, out in the cold.” She paused for a second only to carry on, "I'm scared he may resort to something nasty and hurt Matias.”

"Thanks for the warning. I'll keep my eye on him. He won’t have a chance in hell to pull anything like that off. We are keeping close tabs on him and Aldo. We’ll be able to monitor everything he does.”

As another topless waitress approached the bar to collect an order, I turned in my stool to watch Angel finish her segment. Angel was a stunner, yet she oozed innocence, and made her dances look so seductive and erotic. She was one of the best dancers we had. I couldn't help but imagine how Lorena would look up there, moving like that. There was no chance in hell that Lorena would be allowed to do that, whether she wanted to or not, but she would definitely put on one of the sexiest shows ever. If I lived in another world, where we could follow this attraction, maybe she’d put on a private show for me, but that would never happen in my lifetime. I already went way too far earlier and I wouldn’t let that happen again.

The music quietened down and Ronnie turned on the lights as she spoke over the speaker. "We hope you've been thoroughly entertained tonight. Please could you finish your drinks and make your way towards the exit. As advertised, tonight is an early closing night. We hope that doesn't discourage you from coming back again soon."

I observed as the customers all happily did as they were told. I was expecting a riot. One or two looked like they could have argued, but once they caught sight of me, they emptied their glasses and complied. Johnny, one of the security doormen, locked the doors as the last man exited the building.

“Jesus, I can't believe that actually happened. I thought someone would have kicked up a stink about closing early," he said as he walked over to the bar to collect the beer Ronnie slid his way.

"They all know not to cause a scene if any of the famiglia is here. I'm sure when they saw Capo, they knew not to argue,” Ronnie said with a glance at me. “Ain't that right, Capo?”

I drained my glass before replying, “Maybe, maybe they could sense that I'm not in the mood to deal with any shit tonight."

“You’re never in the mood to deal with shit, Capo,” Angel said with a giggle as she walked towards the bar; clean of makeup, wearing skinny jeans and a floral shirt. She looked nothing like the woman who had been dancing so provocatively on the stage before.

“You got that right, sweetheart,” I agreed.

Ronnie held up a beer, offering it to Angel. “You want one?”

“No, thanks, I promised
Nonna
I would help with the cooking, so I need to leave now,” she answered. Johnny couldn’t seem to tear his eyes from her curves as she sashayed her way to the door. Sexy was natural for Angel.

“I’ll see you to your car,” I offered, not wanting any of the customers to be hanging around in the carpark. Seeing as they had only just left, it wouldn’t be the first time to find one of them batting one out in the carpark.

Out in the parking lot, Angel gave me a quick peck on the cheek with a whispered thanks before walking to her car, which was only parked one row from the door. Having given the carpark a once over and not noticing any loitering customers, I stood in the doorway and watched as she unlocked the car door. She had an older model car that you needed to physically insert your keys in to unlock it. We all despised her little rust bucket. Sebastiano had offered many times to buy her a new car, allowing her to pay it off over a period of time, but she wouldn’t allow it.

In fact, I was convinced most of us had offered at least once to buy her a car, only to be knocked back. Vincenzo was in the lead, offering at least once a week. There would come a day she’d get sick of all our offers and most probably accept, just so everyone would stop bothering her.

As she pulled the key out and opened the door, she turned and gave me a little wave. Knowing she was safe and in her car, I headed back into the club. Within a matter of seconds, I heard her scream and I raced back outside towards her car, barely registering what I saw. That fucking loser who Ronnie had been threatening earlier tonight had her pinned to the car, pawing at her breasts. I saw her lift her leg and she connected her knee with his nuts, just as I grabbed him by the throat and ripped him from her. No doubt having heard her screams, Ronnie and Johnny raced out to join us.

“You fucking, arsehole. I warned you. I will fucking kill you,” Ronnie screamed in anger. Johnny had to pull her back from physically jumping him.

“Ronnie, calm the fuck down,” I shouted. “Take Angel to the party. I’ll deal with this loser and Johnny can see the other girls out and lock up. Okay?”

All three nodded at my orders. Ronnie came back to her senses and ushered a shaken Angel into the passenger seat and Johnny headed back to the club. I looked sideways at the guy I was holding, deciding what the hell I was going to do with him. He needed to be taught a lesson and unfortunately for him, it was going to be a painful one.

It looked like I was going to get a chance to work off some of my frustrations after all.

***

I bundled the guy, kicking and screaming like a fucking pussy, into the boot of my car. I took a slow drive to an empty house we used for punishments. I’d let him off once with a warning, which he didn’t heed. So there was no choice but to show him what happened to people who broke the rules.

By the time I dragged him out of the car, I knew exactly what I was going to do to him. He would learn never to touch any of our women in the future. I parked in the garage and lowered the door before I even exited the car, ensuring no one would’ve seen anything untoward. It was handy to have the garage soundproofed when I built the house, just in case a situation like this arose. Being a hitman, I often brought noisy work home. I grabbed an old rope and some tools from the workbench and pulled a chair off the stack in the corner. Shoving him into the chair, I secured him to it with the rope.

“What the fuck? You can’t do this to me,” he ranted and tried to fight, tugging at the ropes.

“I can do anything I want to you, and you have no fucking say,” I said over my shoulder. It didn’t take me long to go grab the few things I needed from inside the house to cause the fucker a world of pain. When I returned to the garage, it was evident he’d tried to escape his bindings. To his misfortune, I was a master with a rope. All the idiot had managed to do was tip the chair over sideways. I dumped my supplies on the workbench and left him on his side to watch as I chose my weapon. I made a show of running my hand over certain tools, a saw, a hammer, an axe, to scare him all the more. I’d already decided on my weapon on the drive home. I reached for the angle grinder, which was still plugged in to the extension cord from the last time I’d used it. Of course that was for a completely different job to what I had planned now.

Switching it on, I listened to the whirr of the blade for a second. I mainly did it to scare my victim and also to check that it was working correctly so I could get the job done. I turned it off once I'd checked everything was in fine working order and placed it on the floor, making sure it was in his line of vision.

Taking my time, I turned back to the workbench to slip on my gloves and prepare the items I had brought in from the kitchen, an empty bowl and a two litre bottle of vinegar. I filled the bowl and placed it back down, turning around to survey the room for my preparations. Satisfied, I reached down and roughly pulled the guy up by his shoulder, lifting the chair off the ground at the same time.

He was muttering about how he “was going to end me,” and how I’d “never get away with this” the whole time. I was sick of hearing his dribble so I switched off, after his initial outburst. Eventually, he realised I wasn’t listening to him and he paused to take a breath before switching his tactics. “How much do you want? I’ll gladly pay you.”

I laughed. “You trying to buy me? Money can’t get you out of this. You couldn’t keep your hands to yourself and now you must face your punishment.” I repositioned his right hand on the arm of the chair, so it was tied palm facing up. He curled his fingers into a fist, so I had to adjust the ropes to ensure his fingers were lying flat.

Picking up the angle grinder, I switched it on, hearing it roar and started my work. The screams started before I even touched him, it wasn’t much longer before he passed out for the first time. Whether it was from pain or fright I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I paused in mid action and slapped him awake. “Wake up, arsehole. The more you pass out, the longer it'll take me and I haven’t got all fucking night.”

Not giving him any time to breathe, I continued. Once his hand was free of the first layer of skin, I switched the angle grinder off, placing it down on the floor. I untied his hand and removed the bowl of vinegar from under the workbench. Crouching down beside him, I inserted his hand into the bowl. He let out an ear-piercing scream and once again passed out. Placing the bowl on his knee with his hand still inserted, I left him like that as I made my way back to the passenger seat of the car, where I’d haphazardly thrown his belongings and emptied all his pockets before shoving him into the boot. What I needed now was information on who he was. I didn't need him squealing to the police. Not that it worried me. I was confident my actions scared him enough to keep silent. It was always good to have a backup plan; you never knew what these fuckers would do.

Flicking through his wallet, I noted the important stuff, his address and the fact that he had a wife and a daughter. His daughter looked about fourteen in the photo. It was definitely his daughter because of the personalised message I found in his wallet.
To Daddy, love you to the moon and back, Becca xx

Pulling another chair down from the stack, I placed it in front of him and straddled it backwards, so I was facing him, leaning over the back of the chair. The bowl of vinegar had been dropped on the floor but he hadn’t tried to escape while my back had been turned. “Evening, Bill. Now you’re awake again and have taken your punishment, let’s talk business. What did you learn tonight?”

“I-I—” he stammered.

“I’m sorry, but that isn’t a good enough answer. Do I need to treat your left hand too?” I asked as I reached over for the angle grinder again.

“NO! No. Don’t touch the girls. I learned not to touch the girls,” he shouted.

“Good,” I said with a nod, before standing up and moving my chair out of the way. “Now that we are clear on things, I’m going to untie you and let you go home. Understand?”

He nodded in agreement and smartly kept his mouth shut.

I leaned down and started to untie the ropes, holding him to the chair. “You’re a smart guy. I don’t think I really need to spell this out to you, but I’ll do it, just so it's crystal clear. If I hear that you’ve been running your mouth off about our little meeting tonight, it will be your wife and daughter who will be taking your punishment next time. I’m sure you don’t want Becca in a room with me. Who knows what I’ll do to a pretty thing like her,” I threatened.