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In the Back of an SUV

Killian

The fuckers had a bag over my head. I couldn’t see shit, but I could hear them talking as I spat blood inside the hood and ran my tongue along my teeth, checking to make sure they hadn’t knocked any loose.

“Where’s the girl?”

“Didn’t see one.”

“Not just anyone, asshole. The girl. Seraphina Bianchi. Where the fuck is she?”

I couldn’t tell who was talking from where I lay on the floor of the SUV, but one of the voices sounded vaguely familiar. If my head wasn’t throbbing so fiercely, and the roar of the engine didn’t send a thrumming vibration through the entire SUV, I might have been able to discern what syndicate I was dealing with.

We’d wiped the De Luca’s off the map.

Were these Andre Bianchi’s men?

Unlikely. This wasn’t Andre’s style. Andre liked to make deals first, and so far, the man hadn’t so much as approached my capos asking for a face-to-face about his daughter.

The toe of someone’s boot thudded against my sternum. I grunted, teeth bared. I couldn’t see a fucking thi
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