10

LUIGI came out of his wing in the late evening two days later, looking older and shaken. His tall frame was stooped and he walked hesitantly, as if his balance was a little off, but he refused help. Lissa followed him down the hall, staying close just in case he fell. Twice he had to stop and hold on to the wall, but he didn’t speak.

He had never before waited two days to go over every detail when she had disposed of one of their primary targets. Not one single time, and Lissa couldn’t help but wonder what he was up to. He disappeared each night, driving himself, without a bodyguard, sneaking away from the wing, and heading to a building on the outskirts of town. He didn’t go to his wife and children, or to a meeting with the heads of other families. There was no war going on. He simply drove to the building, got out, unlocked the door and disappeared inside for hours.

Casimir followed Luigi two nights in a row, and her uncle always went to the same place. The doors were firmly locked and the windows blackened out with bars on them. He couldn’t hear a sound and hadn’t yet discovered a way in. Once, Arturo had walked Luigi out to his car, so clearly the bodyguard was staying in that building. Their behavior made no sense to Lissa.

She couldn’t find sleep until Casimir returned, sneaking back into her bedroom, stripping as he came to the bed, reaching for her the moment he was there, as if he couldn’t stand being away from her. As if he couldn’t wait one more second to make love to her. Every time he touched her, it felt that way, as if he was making love. Sometimes he was gentle, other times rough and crazy, but she always knew he touched her with love.

Luigi, moving ahead of her toward his study, stumbled and grabbed at the wall. She reached out to him automatically, but couldn’t make herself touch him. Bile rose and she had to force it down, force herself to breathe through the repugnance she felt being so close to him—the man who had raised her. The man she had loved and clung to. The man who had had his own brother murdered so he could have power.

“Tio Luigi, do you need help. I can call . . .”

“No!” He spat the word, glaring at her over his shoulder.

She ducked her head as she normally did when he reprimanded her. Her hair spilled around her face, covering her expression.

“I’m fine, Lissa.” He softened his voice. “This disease is . . . humiliating. I don’t like you seeing me this way. I thought I was better and we needed to talk so I came out before I was really ready, but the medicine is working. Soon I will be fine again.”

“I’m upset that Arturo isn’t with you, Tio. He has never been away from you, and now, when you need him most . . .” She trailed off, but her tone was very accusing.

Luigi held the door for her and she preceded him into the study. The nape of her neck tingled warily and she felt as if she had a giant target painted on her back. She kept her back to him, a study in discipline, as she walked to the most comfortable chair, the one where she always sat when they talked. Luigi liked to sit behind his desk. She realized it made him think he had an advantage. He looked in charge. A man of authority, and until she had discovered the truth about him, she’d always accepted that image he projected. Now she wanted to pull out one of the many knives hidden on her body and cut his lying throat.

Luigi took his time rounding the desk to sit in his extremely expensive office chair. He steepled his fingers and leaned back, looking at her. “What is it, Lissa? You look . . . upset. Did something go wrong?”

With everyone else she stayed in character. This was going to be much more difficult than she imagined. She shook her head. Leaned forward. “That man,” she hissed. “The bodyguard. Tomasso. Really, Tio Luigi, was it necessary to assign me that arrogant, bossy man?”

His mouth twitched in amusement. “Yes, it was. There is trouble right now. My enemies are circling. I will not lose you, Lissa, so you must give me this need to protect you. Tomasso is good at his job.”

“Too good,” she snapped, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m used to Arturo. Where is he?”

“He only takes a few days off a year. He was scheduled for the time off and of course I gave it to him. He couldn’t know I would have a relapse or that trouble would come.”

Lissa shook her head and huffed out her breath in exasperation. “You don’t know how truly irritating Tomasso is, Tio. You coming out of your apartment is the first reprieve I’ve gotten.” She rolled her eyes. “He left to go check out the hotel. I’ve got an appointment tomorrow and he wanted to go talk to their security. If he loses me that sale, I’ll kill him myself.”

“Now, now, cara, he is only doing what I asked of him,” Luigi soothed, his voice indicating he was well pleased with himself. “His job is to make certain you’re safe at all times. Arturo will be back soon, but in the meantime, let Tomasso do whatever he deems necessary in order to protect you.”

She glared at her uncle. “Do you really think, after all the years of training, that I can’t take care of myself?” It was necessary to stay in character, and Lissa would never want a full-time bodyguard, especially one as bossy as Tomasso. She also needed to distract her uncle and make him believe Tomasso was the reason for her being upset.

“I know that you can, Lissa, but I’m not going to apologize to you for wanting to make certain you’re protected. I lost my entire family once. You’re all I’ve got now.”

Lying bastard. Her fingers inched toward the knife hidden inside the form-fitting jacket she wore over her bright blouse.

“You will put up with Tomasso for a few more days. Especially at the hotel.” Luigi made it a decree, as he did quite a lot of things.

He liked control, Lissa realized. He craved it. Issuing orders made him feel very powerful. She made herself sigh and then shrug. “Fine, but I don’t have to like it.”

“Tomasso is a good man, Lissa. Treat him with respect. He’ll be of great use to me.”

“I said I would put up with him. I’ve never treated any of your men with less than my full respect.”

He nodded and let it go. Lissa rarely had an edge to her voice when she spoke with him, and he couldn’t help but hear it. She could only hope that with the fuss she’d made, he’d put it down to her dislike of her bodyguard. She knew her protests would only cement Tomasso’s position with Luigi. Luigi would believe that the new man was one he could count on and bring deeper into his organization.

“I know you succeeded because Cosmos’s widow called me, frantic. She said he slipped over the cliff to the sea and rocks below. By the time the authorities came, his body was out to sea. I know they were trying to find it; if they do, what will they find?” Luigi rubbed his hands together, looking gleeful.

“Clearly he had too much to drink and accidentally fell. It will be ruled an accident. If anyone in the Porcelli family investigates, they will come up with the same conclusion,” Lissa said with absolute confidence.

“I wanted this one, Lissa,” Luigi confided, dropping his voice and looking straight into her eyes. “Your father treated him like a son. A boy like that off the streets, and Marcello and Elizabeta treated him like famiglia. He betrayed them in such a vile way.”

Lissa nearly choked on bile. Her uncle was evil personified. She couldn’t sit across from him and look at his face, listen to his rant and keep her face from showing she wanted to kill him. She stood up and paced across the room.

“I told him. Who I was. I told him before he went over. I’ve never done that before.” She made the confession when she had never considered telling him, but he would think she was moody and edgy because of that.

She never deviated from her set scripts. Patrice Lungren killed, not Lissa. Not Giacinta. Patrice didn’t feel personal toward her targets, she brought justice to them when the justice system had failed. It had to be that way. Patrice never talked to the targets. She arranged an accident and made certain it happened.

Lissa went to the tall cabinet with the display of ornate shot glasses. She touched one, traced the etching and turned toward her uncle once she knew she was composed enough to face him. “I couldn’t help myself. I wanted him to know.”

“Good, good, Lissa. He needed to know. I hope he died hard on those rocks, the bastardo.” Luigi pounded his fist on the desktop. “There is only one left, just one. We have gotten every single one of those responsible for that dark day. You should feel proud of yourself.”

“Not until it is over,” Lissa said. “Not until the last man responsible for the deaths of my parents and all those who served them are gone. Then it will be over.”

“Aldo Porcelli. He is now head of the Porcelli family. He won’t be easy to get to. I’ve studied him and he has no set routines. He changes appointments at the last minute. This weekend he will be very vulnerable, but only this weekend. I believe it will be your best chance to take him.”

She frowned and once more crossed the room to drop into the chair across from him at the desk. “No. No, we can’t do that. It’s too soon. We never do two jobs so close together. If his family puts it together, they’ll come after you. Not me. No one knows about me, but they remember you, Tio Luigi. We can’t take that chance.”

“Sometimes, cara, we have to take chances if we want to win. Aldo is difficult. He is surrounded by protection at all times. He is never alone. I’ve spent the last few years studying him, collecting as much information as possible, and believe me when I tell you, if you don’t get to him this weekend, it could be a full year before we have another chance like this one.”

“I don’t like it,” Lissa said. “We’ve taken our time. That’s what has kept you safe. Deviating from that rule is dangerous. We’ve waited this long, what’s another year?” Let him have to convince her. She wasn’t just going to hand a victory to him, he was going to have to earn it.

Luigi sighed and studied her face. “You can be stubborn.”

“I have to be. It’s just as important to me to keep you safe as it is for you to keep me that way.”

She smiled at him. He smiled back. All teeth. Cat and canary. Her uncle planned on killing her. Lissa knew he couldn’t afford to keep her alive. Not after he succeeded in taking out the heads of both families. They’d played chess for years together. Luigi always won. Unbeknownst to him, she’d been letting him win since she was sixteen. They were still playing chess, only the stakes were much higher.

“Lissa, I understand what you’re saying, but I want this over with. I’m willing to take the chance. You go to your hotel meeting and sell your beautiful chandeliers. They’ll want them, of course. Then you come home, take care of Aldo Porcelli and go on with your plans. Go to Germany. Stay in the castle. Go see the hotel in St. Petersburg. I will have an alibi like I always do just in case. No one will suspect an old man getting his revenge after seventeen years. No one. The idea is ludicrous.”

She sighed, letting him see she was on the verge of capitulation. “I don’t like it, Tio Luigi.”

“No one knows about you, Lissa. And if they did, they would never suspect a young woman, especially a woman who lives in the United States and blows beautiful glass chandeliers she sells worldwide. This is our moment to strike.” He closed his fist, hit his desktop again. “Smash him. Crush Aldo Porcelli. It will be the end. We’ll both be free of this thing we’ve vowed. You will have your life back. You can marry. Have babies. Bring them to see your Tio Luigi. I have never been to the States. I would like to see this place where you live. This farm. I could meet the women you love as famiglia.”

“I would like that,” she murmured, and pushed at her hair, hoping the gesture covered the expression on her face. He was an excellent actor. He’d fooled her father and mother. They’d both loved him with everything in them. He’d fooled her. She’d loved him. She could almost believe it wasn’t true, that he was passionate about bringing those responsible for his brother’s death to justice.

“It isn’t too late for you to find someone, Tio,” she ventured, wondering what he would say. “You aren’t so old that you couldn’t marry, have children of your own. I always wondered why you didn’t.”

“No. No. Not with this disease. So terrible. I would not want to put this on any woman. No. I will stay alone, and you will give me babies to dote on in my old age. I will be their favorite tio.”

Lissa pressed a hand tight against her churning stomach. She couldn’t take the game they were playing much longer. “Why this weekend?”

She watched the tension drain out of him. She hadn’t realized just how tense he’d gotten until he relaxed. She twisted her fingers into a fist and massaged the hard knot at the nape of her neck threatening to destroy her composure.

“Aldo has a mistress.” Luigi leaned forward, hissing the accusation. “He cannot even be faithful to his wife.”

He delivered the condemnation in a voice of utter contempt. Evidently, now that she appeared to capitulate, he was back in his element. She was fairly certain if he’d taken to the entertainment industry, he would have gotten far.

“He sees her regularly, but never at the same time or day. He doesn’t like routine and neither does his protection squad. He always has four bodyguards with him. They’re good and very thorough. You’ll have to find a way past them.”

She nodded. Waiting. Making him give her the details without encouraging him in the least. She wanted to yawn. Luigi was so predictable.

“This Saturday is the anniversary of his finding his mistress. He never misses it. Never. She’s been his mistress for the last eight years. When he isn’t banging his wife, he’s with her. All the time.”

She couldn’t resist. “So he’s faithful to his wife and mistress. It’s just the two women?”

Luigi made a sound, a snort of derision, and crossed himself. “I wouldn’t call it faithful to break the holy vows of matrimony, Lissa. Aldo cheats on his wife, and she is very devoted to him. This is your chance. He will go to his mistress this Saturday.”

She shook her head. “You know it’s risky trying to plan something so quickly, especially when he has experienced bodyguards with him.”

“He doesn’t ever allow them into her apartment. I have gathered all the details you’ll need to plan this. Aldo might not stick to a routine, but his bodyguards do. I have provided each of their locations when their boss visits his woman.” He leaned even farther across his desk. “You can do this, Lissa. For your father and mother. My beloved Marcello and Elizabeta. You have an opportunity to end this thing once and for all. He is the last and the guiltiest.”

“Don’t you think it strange that he killed an entire family because my mother refused to sleep with him, yet he’s faithful to his wife and mistress?”

Her question was met with absolute silence. She knew immediately she’d made a terrible mistake. Luigi’s face turned expressionless, his dark eyes searching her face for something she feared she couldn’t hide. He looked sharp, piercing, very cunning. In the lines of his face she read evil. She knew she looked at the real man, not the mask.

That was the strangest thing of all. They all wore masks. Luigi had from the moment she’d entered his home. She did. When she went after those responsible for killing her parents. When she was on the farm with the women she loved as family. Casimir went through his entire life with a mask. No one saw them. They were hidden away, players on a stage—and she wanted off.

“What are you saying, Lissa? Do you not remember him being there? Directing the entire event? He orchestrated the murders. I showed you pictures and you pointed him out. You did that. I spent years making certain we had the right people.”

“I know.” She hung her head, covered her face with her hands for a moment, wishing for Casimir. Wishing for his arms to get her out of the study where evil permeated every bit of air. Evil smelled and it was sandalwood and spice, the cologne her uncle always wore. “I’m just so tired, Tio. I spoke to Cosmos. I broke a long-standing rule. I don’t know if I can do this again so soon.”

“You will do this,” Luigi declared in his hard, authoritative, most commanding voice. “You will find a way into that house and you will kill this man who murdered your family.”

She nodded. “I know. Of course I will. I’ll start work tonight. I’ll need to do recon. Will Arturo be back? When I’m scouting around, I usually take him with me, that way I can concentrate on what I need to do instead of constantly watching my back.”

No one ever went with her when she did the job, but Arturo guarded her while she did the setup. Still, even with the setup, she was careful. Betrayed by a trusted family friend, watching Cosmos help to murder her parents, had taught her to be extremely cautious, even with those she loved. She always made certain Patrice Lungren did the reconnaissance, not Lissa Piner. No one went with her to the storage unit when she changed beforehand. She wanted no hidden cameras, no surprises later on. If she thought she was under surveillance by anyone, she aborted instantly.

“I doubt Arturo will be back so soon. You’ll have to take Tomasso.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You hardly know that man. Seriously, Tio, you have no idea if he’s loyal or not. What are you thinking?” But she knew exactly what he was thinking. He didn’t trust any of his men to keep their mouth shut with such an important mission. It was blackmail material. They would guess what she was up to. Luigi couldn’t have that, not if he planned to take over the Porcelli family. There could be no witnesses. No one left alive who might know what Luigi had done.

All along he planned to kill Tomasso. That was why he’d been the bodyguard selected to watch over her while Luigi was feigning his illness. Luigi planned to dispose of him as well. She curled her fingers into a tighter fist. She should have seen that coming the moment Luigi assigned a new man as her personal bodyguard. He didn’t want her to question his choice when he sent the man along with her on her recon of Aldo’s mistress.

“He has already proven his loyalty. I think he’s a good man and he’ll watch your back while you put together your plan. So it is decided. You will get to work this week planning and then you will kill Aldo Porcelli and at last allow my brother to rest in peace.” He sat back in his leather chair, looking very pleased. “Now tell me every detail of Cosmos’s death. I want to know his every reaction, his expression, especially when he realized who you were.”

*   *   *

CASIMIR drove quickly through the streets toward the building Luigi disappeared into each night. Arturo stayed there, he was certain of it. He didn’t appear to leave, but stayed inside unless he walked Luigi out. The two men seemed very pleased with themselves, talking animatedly before Luigi got in his car to drive off. They laughed and slapped each other on the back or shoulder. Whatever they were up to made them both very jovial.

There were cameras set up around the building, but no one ever cleaned them off and spiderwebs covered the lenses. Casimir had to strike tonight, right now, while Luigi was Lissa’s alibi. Arturo dying unexpectedly would set off alarm bells in Luigi unless they played this exactly right. He glanced at his watch. He would have only a short time to get this done before rushing to the hotel to make an appearance so when Luigi checked—and he would because he had a suspicious nature—the head of security would give him an alibi. He would make Arturo’s death quick, something he didn’t deserve, but there was no real time for anything else.

He used the shadows of the building to stay out of sight of the cameras as much as possible. With the amount of dirt and webs on them, even if they picked him up, they wouldn’t see much. Still, he was going to make certain he removed the memory cards.

The door was locked, not coded. A big mistake, but one he wasn’t surprised about. Luigi was old school. He didn’t embrace technology. Even at his house, there were no real codes on anything. Luigi didn’t want to memorize them.

Casimir made short work of the lock and then tested the door handle. He listened, but there was no sound at all. He’d noticed that before. Not a single sound escaped from inside. He could only surmise that the building was soundproof, which meant Luigi probably brought men he wanted interrogated to the site. He’d been fairly certain all along that Arturo wasn’t alone in that building.

He opened the door cautiously, inch by inch, listening for an alarm, a noise, anything that would tell him someone waited on the other side. In all the surveillance he’d done on the building, he hadn’t seen anyone else come or go other than Luigi. That meant whoever was inside with Arturo was a prisoner. That man would present a problem if he saw Casimir. He wore his older gentleman persona, but still, he didn’t want a witness. Arturo’s death needed to look natural.

He found himself in an entryway, a large rectangular room with low-slung couches and a couple of overstuffed chairs. An empty fish tank took up an entire corner and there were several paintings on the wall, nude couples in various sexual positions, all depicting various types of bondage.

His heart sank. He knew what this was. Luigi was reputed to run a very brisk prostitution business, providing a particular service to men or women with “unique” preferences. The women commanded high prices for their services because they catered to a very sick lot. Luigi made certain that the circle of very sick patrons returned often and that the circle kept expanding. The women had to be trained somewhere. He’d just discovered Luigi’s school.

The idea nauseated him. He’d been trained in the art of sex, every deviant and perverted act possible. Every type of seduction. The lessons had been brutal, and more than once a female partner had been killed for not performing up to the instructor’s standards. He knew the type of sadistic person it took to train a man or woman in the kinds of sexual technique Luigi wanted from his girls.

He checked for cameras, but there were none in the waiting room. The main working area had to be behind the closed door. He shut down all emotion. That kept him sane, it always had kept him sane. There was no room for Casimir Prakenskii. No room for fire or anger, or anything that resembled emotion. He couldn’t feel for the victims. He could only exact justice as dispassionately as possible.

He stepped through the door into his own personal nightmare. The body of a once-beautiful woman, broken and bloody, hung by her wrists from cuffs attached to chains dangling from the ceiling. Blood spatter was on the wall behind her as well as in a circle around the body on the floor. Casimir knew she was already dead, just from the way the body hung. She was nude and there were hundreds of whip marks, old and new, cut deep into her flesh.

“I don’t know what the hell happened, Luigi,” Arturo’s voice came from around the corner. “She just died. Her fuckin’ eyes rolled back in her head and the next thing I know, she was dead. I don’t know, maybe I took it too fast for her. She just died. I’m going to have to get rid of the body. I figured I’d take her back to her estate in a couple of hours and then throw her over the cliff after Cosmos. You know, widow jumps to her death after husband dies.”

In spite of his resolve not to feel anything, the fire in his belly began to burn through the ice he’d laid over top of it. This woman was Cosmos’s widow, Carlotta. Luigi and Arturo had taken her from her home and planned to force her into prostitution. There was no remorse in Arturo’s voice, only disgust.

“Now? You want me to get rid of her now? I suppose it’s dark enough. Yeah, I’ll take her out there now and I’ll be back in an hour or so. It won’t take long. Yeah. I’ll fucking weigh her body down so no one finds it. Don’t worry. This won’t be a problem.”

Casimir backed out of the room and slipped back outside. There was going to be another accident at the cliff. Arturo was going to die there. He waited in his car until Luigi’s bodyguard came out of the building with the body—wrapped in a blanket—over his shoulder. He dumped it in the trunk of his car, went back and locked the building before driving away.

Casimir didn’t have to follow directly behind. He already knew where Arturo was going. Every mile made the fire burning in his gut grow hotter. He had training. Discipline. Control. He had it all, but he let it go. Rolling down the window, he drew the night air as deep into his lungs as possible. Lissa was facing her nightmare of an uncle, he had to face his past. The sight of that broken body and hearing Arturo talking on his phone to Luigi, clearly uncaring that he’d killed a woman, brought every memory he’d buried flooding back.

He was a trained killer. An assassin. He had taken out so many targets he’d lost track, yet he had more regard for life than Arturo, Luigi or any of his instructors ever had. He had found, over the years, that perhaps the law was in place for a reason, but some of the biggest monsters fell through the cracks. Men like him were necessary. Not good, but necessary.

He chose an alternate route to get to Cosmos’s estate and parked his vehicle where he had before. Again, there were no cars on the street and no one was out walking their dog. It was always the unexpected that could sink a job faster than anything. That person that came home early or forgot something important and returned for it. He stayed in his car a few minutes, getting a feel for the neighborhood, learning the rhythm of it.

Making certain the dome light wasn’t working, he stepped out of the car and moved with absolute confidence—as if he belonged—toward the back gardens where he’d entered the property before. He didn’t hesitate once he was in the cover the foliage provided. He jogged toward the cliff. Coming around the shrubs, he spotted Arturo heaving the widow’s body over the cliff.

Arturo turned and, without a glance around, snagged the bloody blanket and walked back to the house. Casimir had expected him to leave immediately. Instead the man clearly had something important to do in the house. He followed at a distance. Arturo left the door open. Casimir took that as an invitation, but just in case, he was even more cautious.

Arturo didn’t consider that anyone might be watching him. He went straight for the study and the computer. Pulling on gloves, he turned the machine on and, while it was booting up, poured himself a drink of whiskey. He downed it quickly and poured himself a second. The death of the widow had rattled him more than he let on—that or Luigi wasn’t happy she’d died.

Arturo kept his gaze fixed on the screen. Once the computer was running, he sank into a chair and began to type. Looking over his shoulder, Casimir could see it was a suicide note. The widow just couldn’t live without her husband. Casimir moved in close like the phantom he was, coming out of the shadows to stand just behind the bodyguard.

“Arturo. I think we need to talk. Don’t go for your gun. I’d have to shoot you, and right now, all I intend to do is talk. You make me pull the trigger and I’m aiming for your heart. In case you wonder, I don’t miss.”

Arturo leapt up so fast he knocked the chair over. Casimir hit him on the side of his head with the butt of his gun. Hard, uncaring if the blow killed him. Arturo crumpled like a sack of potatoes. Casimir pushed the body aside with a none-too-gentle kick from his expensive shoes and leaned in to add a few lines to the suicide note. He shut down the computer and hoisted the body to his shoulder, strode from the house and dumped the body in the trunk of his rented car.

He shouldn’t do this. He should dump the bastard in the sea and let that kill him, but he couldn’t stop himself. He used zip ties to bind Arturo’s hands and ankles and then slapped a piece of duct tape over his mouth just in case he woke on their trip back to the building where Arturo and Luigi trained women for their prostitution ring.

Casimir knew better. He was making this personal, and one didn’t make any job personal. Arturo represented every one of those instructors who had beaten him bloody, or beaten his partner in front of him. One always won and one always lost. Either the man had the discipline and control to withstand the sexual assault or the woman did. Either he could arouse the woman or she could arouse him. Whatever the demand, one of the partners was severely beaten or killed. More than one of his partners had been killed.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, feeling bile rise, hating those memories. Hating that he’d caused such pain to the young women forced to partner him. Hating that he’d caused their deaths. Men like Arturo felt nothing for the men and women they tortured, used and discarded. He shook his head and drove back to the “school.” Luigi had come to this place every evening. There was no doubt in Casimir’s mind that Luigi had used the widow often and aided Arturo in her “training.”

He cursed under his breath and slammed his palm against the steering wheel. He’d come here several nights in a row and sat outside. Waiting. Watching. All the while, inside, they had tortured the young woman. These men planned on killing Lissa. Her uncle would never try to keep her alive in his prostitution ring. She knew too much and she was far too dangerous.

Arturo was awake when Casimir raised the trunk lid. His eyes spat hatred and a promise of retaliation. Casimir smiled at him. “Hey. Don’t look so surprised. You had to know it was coming. You’re a loose end.” He dragged Arturo from the trunk, not being in the least gentle, deliberately dropping him twice on the ground as if his dead weight was too much to lift.

Frown lines appeared in Arturo’s forehead. He made all sorts of noises, shaking his head in denial.

“Seriously?” Casimir continued, shouldering the man. “You can’t be that stupid. He’s gotten rid of everyone else. That niece of his will do Aldo Porcelli, and he’ll do her. You’re the last thread leading back to him. With you dead, no one is going to know he murdered his own brother and the heads of the Porcelli family. He’s next in line. Once he’s accepted as the boss, Angeline disappears and he’s the golden boy. He has it all.”

He opened the door of the training hall, went through and kicked the door closed behind him. “If you’re thinking, why wouldn’t he kill me too? I do you and disappear. I come in for the hard jobs, and I’ve worked with Luigi in the past. He can’t find me unless I want to be found. I like money, not women or boys or power. It’s that simple. You’ve always been a risk because you can’t resist hurting the women you get under your control. He told me all about you and after watching you with the little widow these past few days, I’d say he was right to get rid of you. You’re blackmail waiting to happen.”

Casimir dumped Arturo in the middle of the sticky blood where the young woman had died. Arturo tried to scoot out of the puddle, but Casimir caught his arms and yanked them up, securing the cuffs that had bound the widow to the chains. With a flick of his knife, he cut away the zip ties and pocketed them.

“It’s just business to me. That’s all. I get in and get out. Disappear.” He yanked the tape from Arturo’s mouth and replaced it with a ball gag before moving around him to the mechanism to lift the body from the floor and hang him by his wrists. “The clothes are going to have to go. You and your little friend were playing and she accidentally killed you before flinging herself off the cliffs. The cops will probably suspect her of murdering her husband, but she’ll have to bear that little burden. Luigi will most likely be able to supply evidence that you and the widow were seeing each other and you both liked kink.”

Arturo shook his head savagely, his body writhing, legs trying to kick out, but they were tied together at the ankles. Casimir smirked. “You don’t think the cops will buy that? They will accept circumstantial evidence. It’s been my experience that they accept what seems believable, and this scenario is close enough to the truth to make it look very believable.”

He clamped his hands around Arturo’s legs and removed his shoes and stocks, stripped off his trousers, cutting them away with his knife, uncaring that every time Arturo fought to get free, the tip of the blade sliced open skin. “Whoa, looks like Carlotta liked knife play.”

Arturo shook his head adamantly, making all kinds of noises around the ball gag. Saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth in a steady stream. Once he had cut the clothes away from Arturo, leaving him stark naked, Casimir locked the bodyguard’s ankles into the tethers and again, removed the zip ties and pocketed them. He tossed the remnants of Arturo’s clothes to one side.

“The widow’s vehicle, the one you’ve been using, is at her home, but your prints are all over it. The suicide note tells how in love she was with you. How you loved to tie each other up and flog each other, but something went wrong and you died. She burned down the building and threw herself off the cliff where you both had thrown her husband over.” He made little clucking noises and shook his head. “You certainly have a lot to answer for. Luigi will be properly ashamed when all this comes to light.”

Casimir casually pulled plastic overalls and a jacket from his bag and donned both items over his immaculate clothing. He picked up the whip and held it up for Arturo to see. “To make this scene believable, we’ll have to make it very authentic. Don’t worry, I learned at the hands of masters, although it’s been years since I practiced this particular art. I’m fairly certain I can do as much justice to this art form as you did on Carlotta.”

A half an hour later, Casimir exited the building. If Arturo could have screamed around his ball gag, he would have. Flames were already licking at his feet and rushing up walls, responding to the direction of a true fire element.