Wicked Games (Bishop Mafia Series 1)

Chapter 7

Copyright © 2014 by Athena Heart

The night was cold and foggy as they soared over the bridge. The sea below glistened in the moonlight. Turning south, he saw the familiar jewel-like cityscape. They floated through the drizzling rain further and soon he could see the faint lights of Seaman's Wharf. It was long abandoned but his father had bought it as a place of business.

The helicopter landed and with a lowered head, he skipped out of his seat. He made his way quickly to a tall and large blond man who was carrying a gun, looked around watchfully. The two men walked fast to the main entrance."

"She's here in Italy. How did she take to the news?" The blond man asked with a cheeky tone, as the wind blow across his blond long hair.

"She's got a temper. A temper that's new." Came a cheerful reply.

Leo chuckled, "A feisty one. Not the little girl you used to bully. She will tame you." He slapped Dean's back.

"Or I, her."

The two men made their way to a thick, steel door. Leo punched in some numbers and then lowered his head to the machine slotted into the wall. A green light flashed across his eyes and the door opened.

As they entered, a loud scream pierced the air.

Dean and Leo walked towards a group of four men who looked like bouncers. They hovered over another man, in his early forties, who was kneeling on the floor.

His face was a bloody mess. The shirt had been ripped, smeared with dirt all over and was loosely hanging around his body with just the last two buttons holding it up. His hair was unkempt and looked as if it has not been combed for days.

One of the Crew pulled him by the hair and delivered a hard punch. The man plopped to the ground. His hands hugged his stomach and he began wailing in pain.

Dean stepped in front of his head which was buried on the floor, waiting for the other man to look up.

Silence. No movements.

A few seconds later, the man slowly lifted his head. Looking at the shoes in front of his face, his eyes traced all the way up to a pair of blue eyes glaring back at him.

"D...Dean." He muttered fearfully. His voice low, as the pain lingered in his stomach.

"Well Quinto, will you tell what I need to know now?" Dean's cold blue eyes narrowed to a slit on him.

"I...I....it wasn't me! Puh...please...I swear" Quinto slurred, as he tried to get up.

Dean removed his jacket and hanged it over the backrest of a nearby chair. He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and on the sleeves. "I've been more than patient with you." His voice showed the building anger.

Quinto lowered his head, needing to avoid Dean's eyes. The Crew had stepped back. They watched as their Capo took care of business.

Dean's footsteps stalked around him. The footsteps stopped behind Quinto, who was now shivering in fear and let his body recoil back to the floor. Dean wrapped an arm under Quinto's neck and pulled him up. Dean yanked Quinto's head back. He sunk his knee, hard and deep into Quinto's mid back.