Chapter 129: I’ll end you Sanchez.

I’m in the basement of one of my clubs when my men drag the two masked brothers through the door.

Finally.

I’ve been waiting long enough to start considering whether I should have gone to their warehouse myself and dragged them out by their fucking hair.

The moment they stumble into the room, I gesture toward the two chairs in the middle.

"Sit them down."

My men shove them into the chairs and secure their wrists behind the backrests. Another pair of restraints goes around their ankles, ensuring neither of them can get up and do anything stupid.

Not that they could do much in their current condition.

Still, I prefer to be thorough.

I glance at Fernando.

"That will be all. Leave us."

He hesitates for a moment, his gaze flickering toward the brothers before returning to me.

"Are you sure, Don?"

I give him a flat look.

"Do I look like I need an audience?"

"No, sir."

"Then get out."

Fernando inclines his head and leaves, closing the heavy door behind him.

The room falls quiet with only Jeremiah, the two prisoners, and I remain.

I walk toward the first prisoner and stop directly in front of him. Reaching down, I grab the edge of his mask and pull it off.

Antonio Hamilton.

His face is twisted with fury, his eyes burning with the kind of hatred that makes me want to smile.

I remove the second mask.

Salvatore Hamilton.

The brothers glare at me, their expressions practically identical.

Well, this is going to be fun.

"Hello, gentlemen."

Antonio’s face contorts.

"I fucking knew it was you!" he snarls, jerking against his restraints. "You fucking prick! You set my fucking warehouse on fire! Do you have any idea how much that cost me? Millions of dollars!"

I tilt my head.

"Millions? That’s unfortunate."

His eyes widen.

I shrug.

"Perhaps you should have invested in better fire prevention."

"Fuck you!"

"Such language, Antonio. And here I was hoping we could have a civil conversation."

Salvatore lets out a low, vicious growl.

"You’ll pay for this with your life, Sanchez. You will fucking pay!"

He lunges toward me, but the chair holds him firmly in place. The restraints bite into his wrists as he struggles, his face reddening with the effort.

I watch him for a moment.

Then I sigh.

"There’s no need for that, Salvatore. You’re just wasting your energy."

He spits a curse at me.

I smile.

"And you’ll need that energy for what’s coming."

His eyes narrow.

"Where’s my wife?"

I blink.

"Your wife?"

"My wife, you fucking idiot!" He strains against the restraints again. "You sent me a picture of her bound and unconscious. You better not touch a hair on her head, Lysander. I’ll end you. I’ll fucking end you!."

I turn toward the door behind me and raise my hand.

"Bring her in."

A few seconds later, one of my men appears, pushing another chair into the room with a woman tied to it, her head hanging forward, her body completely limp.

The moment Antonio sees her, he jerks against his restraints.

"What the fuck did you do to her?"

Salvatore’s expression changes just as quickly.

"Is she dead?"

"Oh, relax." I wave a hand dismissively. "She’s just knocked out. She should be fine."

Antonio looks as though he wants to tear my head off with his bare hands.

I find his reaction rather satisfying.....I could savor this moment for a long time.

I clap my hands together.

"Now, gentlemen, shall we get started?"

I turn toward the metal table against the wall.

On it sits an assortment of tools I’ve collected over the years. Some are designed for practical purposes, others for more unpleasant conversations.

Jeremiah stands a few feet away, his arms folded across his chest. He hasn’t said a word since we entered the room, but I can feel his disapproval radiating from him.

I ignore it.

The brothers’ eyes follow me as I approach the table.

I select a chair and drag it toward them, the legs scraping against the concrete floor. Then I sit, resting my elbows on my knees.

"Now, I have a few questions."

Antonio glares at me.

"Go to fucking hell Sanchez and burn there."

I smile.

"That’s a possibility. But before I consider your kind suggestion, I’d like you to answer those questions."

Salvatore pulls at his restraints again.

"You think you can frighten us?"

"No."

I lean back.

"I think you’re already frightened. You’re simply too arrogant to admit it."

I glance at the woman between them.

"Here’s how this is going to work. You answer my questions truthfully, and I’ll play nice. We won’t have to use any of the toys on that table."

Jeremiah shifts behind me.

I don’t look at him.

Of course, that’s a lie.....I’m going to use the toys regardless of how cooperative these two decide to be...But there’s no reason to tell them that just yet.

Antonio lifts his chin.

"You’re making a mistake, Sanchez."

"Perhaps."

I rise from my chair and take a few steps toward the door, my thoughts briefly drifting elsewhere when my phone pings.

I pull it from my pocket and glance at the screen.

A message from one of my men stationed at my mother’s residence.

All quiet, Don. No suspicious activity. Your family is all safe inside.

Good.

I type a brief acknowledgment before slipping the phone away. I told them to give me an update every ten minutes or so.

My eyes drop to the bandage wrapped around my injured shoulder. The fabric is still clean, although the movement has made the muscles beneath it ache.

I adjust it carefully.

I really should have taken the doctor’s advice.

Then again, I really should have done a lot of things differently today but hindsight is a useless fucking thing.

What matters is what I do now.

I turn back toward the brothers.

"Now, where were we?"

Antonio’s jaw tightens when i walk to the table and pick up a knife.

The blade catches the light from the bare bulb overhead, glinting as I turn it between my fingers. I check its sharpness with a glance before stepping in front of the bound men.

"Oh, yes."

I smile at Antonio.

"One of you was going to tell me why you sent someone to shoot at my wife at that wedding and why you sent one of your men to blow us up today...That was a really stupid move."

Antonio spits on the floor beside my shoes.

I look down at it, then I look back at him.

"One of the tough ones. Great."

I return to the metal table and put the knife down.

There are plenty of ways to make a stubborn man talk, and I’ve never been particularly sentimental about choosing between them.

My gaze settles on a pair of gardening scissors.

I pick them up and test their movement, opening and closing the blades.

The Hamilton brothers very still.

I smile at them both.

"Let’s start with the ears, then, and see where it leads us."