Chapter 26: Spanish Mafia Syndicate

"Leave me! Let go of me," Franco’s desperate cries echoed in the basement of the Selviaggo estate as he was bound in a torture chair. "I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did."

"Hah," Marco scoffed. "Leave you?" He glared at him with an intensity so deep that Franco’s whole body shuddered in fear. "You dare exploit that little maid’s feelings for our Boss to execute him."

"I... I... don’t know what you are talking about, Ahhh..." Franco cried as Leo went to him, silently putting a hot iron rod on the back of his palm.

"Leo," Marco said, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Let me talk, man; you can torture him all you want later."

Leo glanced at the rod in his hand and then at Marco. "But I want to do it while you are interrogating him; isn’t it fun?"

Marco rolled his eyes, then stepped back and leaned against the damp brick wall, arms crossed. "Fine. Just don’t pass him out before I get my answers."

Franco screamed as the hot iron burned his hand. The smell of burnt skin filled the basement, and he kicked his feet against the concrete floor, trying to escape the leather straps that held him to the chair.

"Stop! Please, stop!" he cried, his face covered in sweat and tears.

Leo pulled the iron away slightly and looked at the burned skin on Franco’s hand. He held the rod casually, as if it were nothing more than a toy.

"You were saying?" Marco asked in a flat voice. "You said you knew nothing about this, didn’t you?"

"I did it! I did it!" Franco shouted, unable to bear the pain any longer. "I used Lizzy. I told her that if Santino can’t be hers, no one should claim him."

Marco’s expression turned cold. "Why? Did someone behind you make you do it?"

"No. Nobody is behind this." Franco sobbed, lowering his head as he struggled to catch his breath. "I just wanted to make a name for myself. Everyone in the underground was talking about how Santino had gone soft. He was staying out of fights and keeping a low profile. I thought he would be an easy target."

He raised his tearful eyes toward Marco, desperate for mercy. "I thought if I killed the head of the Selviaggo family, everyone would respect me. I wanted to become a legend... It was stupid ambition. I know I was wrong."

Franco shook his head, his voice breaking. "He’s not weak. I understand that now. I’ve told you everything, so please let me go. I’ll leave the country and never come back."

Leo let out a quiet laugh from behind the chair.

"Let you go?" he asked, his voice almost gentle. "Where’s the fun in that? We haven’t even tried the knife yet."

Before Franco could react, Leo grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. He placed the tip of a hunting knife beneath one of Franco’s fingernails and slowly pushed it forward.

Franco screamed again, struggling so hard that the chair shook against the floor. Blood ran down his fingers as Leo continued with a faint smile on his face. He seemed to enjoy every second of Franco’s fear and pain.

"Leo, hold on," Marco said when he noticed Franco’s eyes rolling back.

"Just one more finger, Marco," Leo replied calmly. "He still has nine left."

"Wait... Please, wait," Franco cried, his voice rough from screaming. "I have information. Important information. Don’t kill me."

Marco raised his hand, stopping Leo just as the knife reached the next fingernail. "Talk. And whatever you tell me had better be worth keeping you alive."

Franco spat blood onto the floor and took several shaky breaths. "I have men everywhere. I have informants along the coast. Before I tried to attack Santino, I was working on a deal. I heard something important."

"Get to the point," Marco snapped, checking his watch.

"The Spanish Mafia Syndicate," Franco gasped. "They’re making a move. They also think Santino has become weak because he’s been staying out of trouble. They’ve already placed their men within the business, and they’re planning to attack your Coast Ridge port within this month."

Marco’s expression changed at once.

"They want to take control of the port and seize your supply lines," Franco continued, his voice trembling. "They’re preparing for an attack. I’m telling you the truth."

The basement fell silent.

Marco’s relaxed expression disappeared. Coast Ridge was one of the Selviaggo family’s most important strongholds, handling millions in international trade every month. If the Spanish Mafia took control of it, not only would the two families be at war; even the nation would be involved.

He turned toward Leo, who stood beside the chair with his knife still in hand, looking disappointed that the torture had been interrupted, and then stared at Franco, trying to decide whether the man was telling the truth or making up another lie to save his life.

The Spanish Mafia had been a problem for years, but an attack on Coast Ridge would change everything.

If they were already moving their men near the border, then they had been planning this for a while. Marco’s jaw tightened as he thought about how much damage they could cause if the family wasn’t ready.

He turned toward Leo, who was still standing beside Franco with the knife in his hand. Leo looked annoyed at having to stop, as if he had barely begun to enjoy himself.

"What do you think about this?" Marco asked him. "Do you believe his words?"

Leo shook his head. "No, but if he’s telling the truth, we need to move fast. Coast Ridge can’t fall into their hands."

Marco looked back at Franco, who was breathing heavily in the chair. "If I find out you’ve lied to me, you’ll wish I’d killed you today."

Franco nodded quickly, too frightened to argue. "I’m telling the truth. I swear."

Marco didn’t answer. He pulled out his phone and checked the time, already thinking about the men he needed to contact and the orders he had to give. Santino needed to know about the threat before the Spanish Mafia made their first move.

"Keep him alive," Marco ordered as he headed toward the iron door. "Clean him up enough to keep him from bleeding out. I need to call our boss."