Unknown Territory [Mafioso Book#3] (SAMPLE)

Chapter I: Negotiations

15 Years Later 

"Hah!" The man jolted awake with a gasp when a bucket of cold water was emptied over his head. Heaving and gasping, his gaze darted around frantically, bile rising in his throat when he realized he was bound to a chair. His stomach churned in unease the moment his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit surroundings which consisted of multiple tables standing in the desolate shadows, the chairs stacked on top.

The sound of a chair being lowered behind him had the man's skin crawling with fear, the bullet wound in his thigh bleeding and pulsating with pain. The wooden legs screeched against the marble flooring as the chair was brought to be resting in front of the captive.

He didn't dare look up, his blood rushing through his veins as he shook with suppressed anxiety. The sound of rustling fabric was accompanied by the musky scent of his captor's cologne. The fragrance wafted around him and mingled with the stench of his blood to concoct the pungent flavor of death. He heard the man sit down as his coin grey slack and polished brown dress shoes came into view as he inhaled deeply, holding his breath.

"Theodore." His voice called out to him, the authority having him snap his gaze up at the man before him.

He sat in a white button up, whose sleeves had been rolled to his elbows. A navy blue tie around his neck with his grey blazer hanging over the back of his chair. The man's legs were crossed at the ankles with one hand leisurely slipped into his slack's pocket with the other holding a gun.

"I can make this right!" Theodore struggled against his bounds. "Just talk to me!"

"Oh, yes, Theodore." The man before him nodded. "We're going to talk alright." He held out his hand and a bottle of clear liquid was placed into his waiting palm.

Taking a sip of the drink, he poured the liquid over the gaping wound, the skin burning as the alcohol came in contact with the open gunshot. Theodore squirming and whimpering as he squeezed his eyes shut from the pain.

"I've come for your banker." He took another sip from the bottle, exhaling deeply. "Whose your banker?"

"I...I can't..."

Just as those words left his mouth, the man before him stood from his chair, pouring the vodka over his bound figure, forcing him to gag against the wretched smell and squirm at the cold sensation against his burning skin.

Theodore gasped for breath as he watched the other man pick up a cigar from the table beside him, placing it into his mouth before striking the match against the box. His breathing coming out in rapid successions as he watched him light the cigar, taking a puff before holding it in his fingers,

"Sir," He whimpered as the match was brought closer to him, tears welling in his eyes and his heart hammering against his chest. Just as the match was about to come in contact with the highly flammable liquid covering him, his captor extinguished it with a flick.

"The banker," He demanded, bringing the burning cigar threateningly close to the man.

"Please..."

"Let me make this easy for you. There are 7 banks in the East who are capable of financing a mission such as Gerard's. I run money through 4 of them and own the other 2. So tell me, which one?" He brought the cigar impossibly closer, one wrong move and the burning ash will have him combust in flames.

"Okay! Okay! I'll tell you!" Theodore relented, watching him pull back the cigar. "The money was wired from the Dundas Bank in the Italian Office; we have a man there who had it done. I swear that's all I know!"