Brutalize Me by Michelle Heard

Author:Michelle Heard [Heard, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: MA HEARD
Published: 2023-03-22T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 21

Armani

First on the list is Fontana. He’s been dealing drugs in Italy for the past year, thinking he could hide his business from the mafia.

Seventy-two hours.

I set the alarm on my phone before driving from Marghera to Bari, that’s on the other side of Italy. Fontana deals from a ‘Cash and Carry’ warehouse where everything is low priced. Except for the drugs, of course. You pay through your ass to get high.

The eight-hour drive is tedious, but when I pull up to the warehouse, I’m alert and ready to start the job.

I put the car in park and dig the machine gun out of my bag of toys. Climbing out of the vehicle, I pull the weapon’s strap over my shoulder before putting on my jacket so it’s concealed.

Walking toward the back door, because it’s eight at night and the place is closed to the public, I lift my chin to the two guards, playing a game of cards.

“Is Fontana here?” I ask.

The one guard stands up, a frown forming on his face. “Who’s asking?”

“De Santis.”

“Never heard of you,” he mutters. “We only open at ten. Fuck off.”

He sits down again, grumbling as he picks up his hand of cards.

“That’s okay,” I chuckle. “Soon, everyone will know the name.”

Pulling two K-Bars out of my armored vest, I roll my shoulders as I walk closer.

Both guards jump up, their chairs falling backward. “You’re dead,” the bigger one growls as he stomps toward me.

When he takes a swing at me, I duck and plunge one of the knives into his armpit. Ripping the weapon out, I move quickly, slitting his neck open from ear to ear.

“Motherfucker,” the smaller one shouts as he yanks his gun from where it’s tucked into his pants.

I throw my knife before he can get his finger on the trigger, burying the blade in his left eye.

Stalking to the fucker, I crouch over him and pull the knife out. I wipe it clean on his shirt, then get up and kick a metal door open. It shudders on its hinges.

Holding the knives ready, I move into the back of the warehouse.

I see people packing drugs into small bags on the other side of the building. I keep walking as if I don’t have a care in the world, but instead, I’m ready for an attack.

When I near an office, lights from the windows shining into the main part of the warehouse, I hear someone say, “We had good sales this month.”

I appear in the doorway and watch as four men count stacks of cash. Fontana is sitting behind a desk, reading something on his laptop.

“I’m here to collect what you owe Luca Cotroni.”

My voice sends shockwaves through the office. Fontana is the first to move, rising from his chair.

When one of the four jumps up, I throw my knife into his chest. I twirl the remaining knife between my fingers as I step into the small space.

“You’ve been trading in Cotroni’s area for eight months without paying a dime.

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