PSEUMINO, VENTO AUREO.

✦.⁺ appall.

═ ☆. IT WAS EASY TO DEAL WITH Zucchero when he wasn't deflated and in plain sight. You were about twenty minutes from Naples, with the other yacht sinking somewhere behind you. After he'd turned the yacht around, Bruno had come back on deck to find Zucchero restrained by White Satin, his eyes hatefully following you as you paced.

It took a lot of self-restraint not to suffocate Zucchero with White Satin

"Neat work," Bruno said, looking at Zucchero. "Do you tie up people often?"

You were too wound-up to come up with a quip for that.

Bruno leaned back against the railing, brushing his hair out of his face.

"Well, Zucchero. We've got you tied up, and about twenty minutes before we get back to Naples. Care to talk?"

You loosened the strip of White Satin that acted as a gag. Immediately, Zucchero spat, "Fuck you."

"Hey," Bruno said when he saw you tense in anger. "Of course he's going to be pissed."

Well, you were just as pissed. You had gone with Abbacchio expecting to eavesdrop and figure out something about the mysterious man in the trench coat. Instead, you'd nearly drowned and ended up with a tied-up Zucchero. Did none of the plans these people thought up go through? Just once, you wouldn't mind getting what you planned for.

"You've got him tied up," a voice noted dryly. "Wonderful."

You glanced at Abbacchio and immediately had to look away. His shirt clung to his torso like a second skin, leaving very little to the imagination. On any other day, you might have taken the chance to appreciate the sight, but now wasn't the time. At least Abbacchio didn't look any less intimidating with a damp shirt.

Abbacchio drew his hair over his shoulder and dried it with a towel.

"Talk, fucker," he said to Zucchero. "Where's Sale? He's not going to be waiting for us back on the docks, is he?"

"I'm not going to tell you shit," Zucchero seethed.

You tightened White Satin around Zucchero, applying enough pressure that you knew it was hurting him. The fabric shifted around Zucchero's body, constantly moving. Blood welled where its edges pressed into Zucchero's skin.

"I don't care if you squeeze the shit out of me. I'd die before I would snitch."

Abbacchio's jaw twitched. Bruno raised his hand as primly as a schoolboy.

"Do you mind if I try something?"

"Who said you needed to ask for permission?"

Bruno moved over to Zucchero.

"I try to keep myself out of situations like this," he said, eyeing Zucchero. "But since you don't want to cooperate—"

Bruno's Stand pulled open a neat zipper over Zucchero's neck. Your mouth fell open when his head popped off and fell to the deck with a thud.

"Goddamn," Abbacchio said.

"I can't believe that worked," Bruno said, and you almost laughed at how surprised he sounded.

When you looked at the spot where Zucchero's neck had been attached, all you saw was a dark swirling space. You had the morbid urge to reach your hand inside.

Zucchero started screaming.

"What did you just do? How—why—put my head back!"

"How can he still talk?" you asked.

"Put my fucking head back!"

"He'll put your head back after you answer our questions." Abbacchio tossed his towel aside. "Where's your friend Sale?"