Wicked Games: Bishop Mafia Series 1

Chapter 7

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.

Quinto yelped in pain. "Ahhhh!...D...Dean...p...p..please"

Dean walked over to the man's face on the floor. He gave a kick right into his face as if it were a football. Quinto toppled onto his back. Fresh blood began oozing from the sides of his face and mouth. He began to cough up more blood. The coppery stench began to fill the air. Pain shot from his head, down to the toes.

Reaching down, his fingers clutched Quinto's hair. Dean pulled his body up.

Kneeling by his side, he commanded, "Speak. Don't mess with me Quinrto! I need answers."

Quinto looked into those steel blue orbs and nodded weakly.

Silence again.

Two of the Crew brought in two wooden chairs and placed them facing each other. Dean took a seat, leaned front with elbows resting on his knees. His fingers forming a steeple in front of his lips. Eyes shot a calm but cold stare at Quinto.

Leo's face bared no expressions as he took a stand next to Dean. Two of the other Crew each grabbed Quinto under his armpits and plopped his body on the chair, opposite their Capo. Tears rolled down Quinto's bloodied face.

"We haven't got time for this, Quinto!" scowled Leo.

Dean’s eyes were a bottomless depth as he focused on the man in front of him.

"It...it was Renzo!" Sobbed, Quinto.

Dean slid back into his chair and closed his eyes. "Renzo’s dead. Let me repeat what I had asked you. Who else worked with you?”

Silence.

"Go on Quinto, spill it out!" Leo yelled impatiently.

"Renzo planned the whole thing. It was his plan! I know nothing more." Quinto spoke softly.

"Who laced the drink?" Dean questioned, still calm

"Dean. I....I'm sorry." He pleaded, burying his face in his hands.

"Who laced the drink?" Dean posed the question again.

The room echoed with Quinto's sobs.

"I am sorry Dean...please...."

He looked up searching Dean's eyes for mercy. But Dean's expression was unreadable.

Leo lashed out at Quinto, slamming onto him. Both men fell back. The chair now toppled to the side. Leo was bending over Quinto, punching him continuously. Dean rushed over to grab Leo's shoulders and dragged him back, away from Quinto.

"Let go Dean! I want to kill this asshole with my bare hands!" Dean dropped Leo onto the chair he had sat in earlier.

Leo rose again as soon as Dean seated him down. But Dean was fast to force him back on the chair again.

"Didn't I say I will take care of this?" Dean spoke, showing a tinge of anger in his throat.

Leo’s glare never left Qunito. He didn't reply. Dean could feel the tension in Leo's body, waiting to just grab Roberto and tear him to pieces.

"Leo?" No answer "Leo!" Dean commanded.

Leo peeled his eyes away and turned to Dean's face. They stared at each other, words spoken with their eyes. Leo calmed down and stared back in disgust at Quinto who was now very pale.

With his second-in-command calmed down, Dean walked back to Quinto. "Who?" he demanded, voice rough with anger.

Quinto weakly replied, "Dean I am sorry..."

"Who?" Dean demanded again, this time louder and the anger was very much apparent.

Quinto closed his eyes and whispered, "It was me...I was there in the office. When your father was busy with a call, I poured the poison... into his coffee."

"How much did Renzo offer?" Dean asked, still angry but his voice was frighteningly calm...

"$20 000..." Quinto's voice trailed...his head sunk and eyes avoiding Dean's face

Dean turned to Leo. "Who else worked with you?"

Quinto shook his head. “It was only me. I swear. Renzo didn’t tell me anything. He paid me and then instructed me what to do. I do not know of anyone else who was involved.”

“Where is Michel?” Leo asked.

“I’m not sure. But he is caring for his nephew.”

Dean and Leo exchanged looks. On the night, Dean killed Renzo, Leo had come for Pascal Triglia, carrying him to a church and left him in the care of the Vicar. They had intended to keep, Pascal, as bait for Michel.

"Pascal was kept somewhere else. How did he end up with Michel?" The beast within, Dean stirred. Leo was right. There was a traitor in their midst.

"I do not know. This is true. Dean, please forgive me." Quinto begged, falling on his knees and holding onto Dean's legs.

Dean stared down into the pleading eyes looking up at him.

A gun shot cut through the room. Quinto fell back. Blood gushing out from the bullet hole in his forehead, eyes opened in shock.

Dean tucked the gun into the back of his jeans, with the handle still visible. Leo handed his jacket which he put on.

"Romeo, you know what to do." Dean instructed one of the lead Crew members who nodded and then looked at the bloody messy on the floor. It was going to be a long night.

Dean and Leo made their way to the steel door.

"A traitor walks amongst us, Dean." Leo spoke.

Dean was silent. There was more to this story. Dean knew. He had to get hold of that traitor and then Michel Triglia.