Chapter 12 - The Confession of a Traitor
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It took Marco less than six hours to find the leak.
"It’s David Thorne," Marco said, pulling up a bank ledger on the screen. "He’s a junior security guard assigned to the service entrance. He incurred a fifty-thousand-dollar gambling debt with a bookie tied to the Volkov syndicate last month. The debt was magically cleared three days before Emma was attacked."
David Thorne. A kid I had hired straight out of the military, giving him a chance to build a lucrative career. He had traded Emma’s safety to cover a few bad hands of poker.
"Bring him to the warehouse on Pier 4," I ordered coldly.
By midnight, I was standing in the freezing, damp warehouse overlooking the East River. David Thorne was strapped to a metal chair in the center of the room. His face was pale, his eyes wide with absolute terror as I walked out of the shadows.
"Boss, please," David begged, straining against the zip-ties. "They threatened to kill my family! I didn't know they were going to hurt her that badly! They just said they wanted to scare her to send a message!"
"You sold a woman who cleans up after you to a mob of animals," I said softly, standing directly in front of him. I didn't yell. The terrifying calm in my voice made him tremble violently. "You used her blood to pay your debts."
"I’m sorry! I’ll pay you back! I’ll do anything!"
"You will," I agreed.
I reached into my coat and pulled out a heavy, silver cigar cutter.
David screamed as Marco grabbed his right hand, pinning it flat against the armrest of the metal chair.
"Kolov likes to send messages," I whispered, positioning the sharp steel over his index finger. "Now, I am going to send one back."
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I pressed down cleanly. The scream echoed violently through the empty warehouse.
"Marco," I commanded, turning my back on the sobbing, bleeding traitor. "Put the finger in a nice box. Deliver it personally to Kolov’s favorite nightclub. Tell him the Castellano family is no longer playing defense."
