Ties of Blood (Book One)

Chapter 41 ~ Matteo

Matteo Moretti

She let me walk her home, the mere thought of it made me happier than anything else.

Kidnapping people was never hard, even easier when it was morons like Noah.

I had specifically instructed my men to bring him over to Warehouse 12. Twelve was the closest and I needed to shred him apart for touching Gianna.

Granted the bruise was faint but it was a bruise and he inflicted pain on her, as will I on him, tenfold.

I made it to the warehouse in exactly 15 minutes, with Alonso as my driver, Alonso wasn't a slow driver or anything but at that moment we were moving slower than a snail on morphine.

Eventually we got there, and as I requested Noah was sitting in a chair, two for my men behind him with guns.

Noah looked pretty beat up already though I wasn't complaining. He had a black eye and a bleeding nose dripping all over the desk in front of us, which on top consisted of 15 year old whiskey.

I had 17 year old whiskey at home but I wasn't wasting it on this bastard.

I settled into the seat in front of him, Noah glared at me, "You?"

"Me." I answer his question.

"What the fuck did I do to you?"

I chuckled, grabbing a shot glass and pouring some whiskey into the shot glass beside me, "Nothing, I thought we should have a talk. Drink?"

I gestured the cup to him, he seems hesitant and looked back at my men for approval.

"I don't know why you're looking at them, they work for me," I drawl.

He still looked scared, what a pussy, "Okay, fine, you two? Out." I say, calmly as if I wasn't planning on hurting him in all the ways possible. 

My men left without complaint and Noah's shoulders relaxed a bit. Big mistake.

"I'll have a drink," he said, before I could speak he snatched the drink out of my hands and gulped it down it one shot.

Annoyance crossed over me but I washed it away when I remembered what I was here for.

"Which hand did you touch her with," I say, leaning back in my chair, after pouring myself a glass.

"W-what?" Noah's voice went higher, his eyes widened as the realizations of what was going on finally began to st I o his thick skull.

I smiled, taking a sip of my drink, letting the silence stretch just long enough for the fear to sink in. "You heard me," I said, my voice with a slight sigh of annoyance. "Which hand did you use when you grabbed her?"

Noah's eyes flickered with uncertainty, his bravado fading as the reality of his situation settled in. "I didn't mean anything by it, man. I swear."

I leaned forward, placing the glass back on the table with deliberate care. "That's not what I asked. I'll make it easier. Was it your right hand, or your left?" My tone was still casual, as if we were discussing the weather, but the menace in my words was unmistakable.

Noah swallowed hard, glancing down at his hands, and finally lifted his right one slightly. "It was— it was my right, okay? But I didn't—"

I cut him off with a sharp, cold smile. "Right hand. Good. I just needed to be sure."

Before he could react, I slammed my glass down, and in one swift motion, I grabbed the hammer that had been lying on the edge of the table. Noah's eyes widened in terror as he realized what was about to happen.

"Wait, wait!" he yelled, jerking in the chair, but my men had tied him too tightly for him to escape.

"Never come near Gianna again," I said softly, as I brought the hammer down with all my strength onto his right hand.

The crack of bone echoed through the warehouse, followed by Noah's blood-curdling scream. His entire body convulsed with the shock of pain, but I didn't flinch. I watched his face contort, his skin going pale as blood rushed from the mangled hand.

"That," I said, my voice still calm, "was for putting your hands on my wife."

"What the fuck, man!" He screams.

I raised an eyebrow at how pathetic he looked, "And this is for calling me a millionaire." The words tasting vile on my lips. 

I took the alcohol in the bottle and poured it over his bleeding wound, multiplying the pain. He screamed again but I gave negative fucks.

I stepped over him but just as I was about to leave, the memory of seeing his hand on Giannas wrist, the looks of shock and fear on her face made me change my mind.

I took the gun from one of my men by the door and shot Noah 3 times in the head, my aim accurate. His screams fell faint as did he.

Alonso was already in the car, ready to go. I gave my men back his gun and he placed it back in his holster.

I slid back into the car feeling calmer than before but not complete without Gianna.

I remembered how Noah's disappearance would possibly cause some confusion to the rest of the idiots who cared about him.

I usually covered my own footprints but I was too busy and I wanted to give Gianna all my attention meaning I had to make one call to the one person from hell itself.

Damien Makris.

"Mr Moretti! I've been waiting for our call," Damien's voice drawled through the phone, wrapped in a calm tone of voice but the malice was still there.

Damien owed me a favour for me saving his ass a few years ago, now I wanted the favour returned. Damien knew anyone and everyone, either on good terms and on bad terms with him.

"I want that favor," I say, not bothering on greetings.

"Straight to business, hm? I like it. What can I do for you, Moretti,"

"I want you to get rid of a persons body for me, and cover my footprints," 

"That can be arranged," he said, after a moment of pause, I could tell he was wondering what I needed it for but he wisely kept his questions to himself.

"It better be, consider that favour paid for,"

Damien's condescending chuckle sounded, he thrived in moment of chaos, always being 10 steps ahead of his enemies in the business world. Or in the businesses I knew anyways. Lord knew how many organizations he was a part of.

"Consider it done by tomorrow,"

"Good."

"Goodbye, Mr Moretti" he sounded like he was enjoying this, I hung up immediately.

Fuck, he got on my nerves. But he was useful and in this world, useful triumphed any form of annoyance.