BETROTHED TO A RUTHLESS MAFIA

CHAPTER THREE

There was a reason everyone feared Arnold Giovanni, and it was because anyone who dared to cross him or go against him met the same fate, and it was worse than death.

Eugene had the men wait for Grayson McCarthy to show up at the top of the building where the helicopter was going to pick them up. Arnold insisted that they don't go to his house because Grayson knew that his men kept watch on him and might cause him to take a detour and they could lose sight of him. Grayson might not be a lot of things, but he was a cunning man.

“We have eyes on them already, boss. They are on their way up the building.” One of the men said to Eugene over the phone.

“Good, now is the time to strike. Don't shoot anyone no matter what. The boss wants them alive.” Eugene replied. Then he walked over to meet Arnold in his study.

Arnold held a glass of whiskey neat while he stood staring at something on his phone.

“They will be here in ten minutes, and we'll need your orders to proceed,” Eugene said, hands folded in front of him and face set in a grim line. “Should we let you have Keira, or we should just throw all of them in one place?”

“The girls are to be taken to any of the rooms, with security, and make sure their hands are tied to their legs, can't have them running around.” Arnold just never hurt innocent women. That was why he ordered that.

“Yes, boss.” Eugene replied. Then, he headed out of the study to meet the men.

There was so much noise as he descended to the basement. The McCarthy's had bags over their heads. It was no new thing for Grayson, though this wasn't his first rodeo.

“The boss wants the ladies taken elsewhere. Make sure you keep them tied and don't remove the gag from their mouth. Plus, five of you should guard the door so no one tries to escape.” Eugene said to them, and they nodded.

They picked up Keira, Kenna, and their mother, but the woman insisted that she wanted to stay with her husband. They tried to make her move, but she was adamant, so Eugene told them to leave her be and take the two girls. They struggled so much, but there was a limit to their strength against sturdy men like these.

Grayson McCarthy stood with his wife. The bags over their heads were taken off the moment they took Keira and Kenna. There was an iron table at the center of the room and a chair. Those were the only pieces of furniture in the room.

The place was empty and the walls were very smooth, there were no windows and air came in through a vent that was up in the ceiling which was very high up from the ground. This place was designed in a way that you could escape even if you tried to, the walls were too smooth, sturdy, and heavily soundproofed so no one outside the walls of the basement could hear you.

There was a gun on the table and Arnold's infamous dagger. Grayson looked at his wife. They had been married for over thirty years, and she had been his life partner in every sense of the word. But after taking a long look at the room, his hope faded. He was going to die here, but he wouldn't give Arnold the satisfaction of ending his life.

“I remember the first time I held a gun. It was when my father taught me how to hunt. I was so scared and shaky, I misfired and it hit our dog in the leg.” Grayson said, walking over to the table.

The worst mistake they had made was leaving him here with a gun and to his own devices. Arnold underestimated him, but it was to an extreme point where he felt safe leaving a loaded gun with him in an empty room.

“Honey, what exactly is going on? I knew something was wrong when you decided we should sell the house and move somewhere else.” Vera said, trying to put her words together as she could.

Grayson brought her close and hugged her. “Sweetheart, everything I've done, I did only for you and the girls. It might not have been the best decision all the time, and I know how much I regret most of them. But it's too late now, and all I have are regrets that I put you and the girls through all of this.” He said.

“We'll find a way out together, I know we would. For now, let's just wait and think of what we could do.” She replied to him, wiping her tears from continuously falling down her cheeks. She needed to be strong for her and her girls.

She turned to walk towards the door if there was anyone around but she couldn't hear a thing. Turning back towards her husband, she closed her mouth in shock, seeing him holding the gun to his head.

“Oh my God. Grayson, what are you doing? Drop the gun, we can talk about this, and work through it together like we've always done. Please don't leave me and the girls, not like this.” Tears were streaming down her face like fine waterfalls.

He sobbed, too, but his mind was made up. Facing death was better than facing the wrath of Arnold Giovanni, and he had done plenty in his bad books. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart.” Those were Grayson McCarthy's last words before he pulled the trigger, and he was lying cold on the floor.

Vera collapsed in shock to see her husband take his own life, and her head hit the edge of the iron table, causing her to bleed.

Arnold took his sweet, sweet time wearing his gloves and going down to the basement. He opened the door and saw Mr. McCarthy and his wife lying in the pool of their blood and his gun in the hands of Grayson.

The motherfucker had blown his brains out, while he was still taking in the scene before him the woman mumbled something. She was still alive. That was good. Arnold barked orders, and they rushed her to a nearby hospital in an ambulance.

He had Mark and Eugene go with the ambulance and then he ordered Grayson’s body to be taken away and burned.

On getting to the hospital, there was not much the doctors could do to help the situation. Mrs. Vera McCarthy was declared brain dead due to head trauma. Eugene called Arnold to report the news, and Arnold ordered that she continue to stay on life support until he decided otherwise.

“Do you plan on telling the girls?” Eugene asked.

Arnold let out a small sigh. He should, and he would he owed them that much.

“Tomorrow morning, I'll let them know.” He replied, and then he hung up the phone.

This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He wouldn't blame himself for Grayson’s or the wife's death, but he sure did feel guilty that the innocent woman was caught up in her husband's stupidity and cowardice.

Arnold had the basement cleaned and bleached, back to the pristine way it was before the bloodbath. Going back to his study where he spent most of his time, Arnold thought back to the whole fiasco but this time something hit him. McCarthy wouldn't just commit suicide because he feared him more than death. There was something more and he needed to know.

Immediately he dialed Mark's number, he didn't want the thought to just pass before he forgot all about it.

“I need to have more information in the McCarthy's, everything you can get, find out who freaking dry cleans their clothes if possible. There's something I can't place my finger on but it seems like Grayson was in more s**t than we thought.” Arnold said.

“Sure thing. I'll get to that as soon as possible.” Mark replied and the line went dead.

Arnold picked up a glass to drink his usual whiskey, but he felt like something stronger, so he opted for the bottle of bourbon instead. After emptying the contents in his glass he headed out to where they had kept the girls, he needed to make sure there were no more suicide attempts in his house.

He opened the door ever slightly and peeped through. One of them was sprawled out on the bed in deep slumber while the other one sat down on the floor at the edge of the bed. Her back was facing him so he couldn't see her face.

Tomorrow morning, he would deal with them as he saw fit but for now, he needed to find the bastard who put weapons in the room unsupervised. And when he found that person, he would pay dearly for his mistake.