The Mafia King’s Doll

Renzo

Opening the door, my eyes land on the nurse, and I order, “Open him up and put his organs back in his body.”

Pale as fuck, she nods as she cautiously steps into the truck.

Elio follows her inside, his face torn with worry and grief as he says, “This is fucked up.”

“Was Antonio the first man here?” I ask, my eyes already locking on my soldier.

Antonio comes closer as he nods and gestures at the dead bodies on the floor. “I just reacted without thinking to keep one of them alive for information. I’m sorry, boss.”

“Tell me everything,” I order. “Leave nothing out.”

He points at the bodies again. “I found the fuckers removing Giulios organs and killed them before calling Elio.”

My eyes flick to where Bianca’s opening the cut on Giulio’s chest before returning to Antonio.

“One of his kidneys has already been taken for a transplant,” Bianca says, drawing my attention back to her. “I couldn’t stop it without giving myself away. I had to sign the documents with the doctor, so it looks legit.”

My rage multiplies until it’s a violent storm, and I can only utter two words. “Which doctor?”

Her eyes are still wide with fear as she answers, “Dr. Bentall.”

“Who got the kidney?” I ask, my tone growing grimmer by the second. “A woman,” Antonio answers on behalf of his cousin. “As soon as

Bianca is done here, she can get all the information for us.” He glances at his cousin before looking at me again. “I’ll need protection for Bianca. Just until the problem’s taken care of.”

The shock of losing my brother hits again, and crossing my arms over my chest, my gaze returns to Giulio’s body.

Bianca handles each organ with care while tears roll over her cheeks.

When she closes the wound and takes a moment to clean Giulio’s chest, I say, “Elio, assign guards to keep Bianca safe. Have them take her to the

house in the Hamptons and make sure she’s comfortable.”

Bianca’s eyes dart to my face. “Thank you, Mr. Torrisi. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

Nodding, I mutter, “Keeping you safe is the least I can do to repay your loyalty to the family.”

Gesturing to the door with a jerk of my head, I order, “Antonio, take two men and go with Bianca while she gets the information regarding the transplant. I want someone watching the doctor around the clock.”

When the group leaves, I look at Vincenzo. “Call our contact at the morgue and have Giulio moved so he can be readied for…” Unable to say funeral, I can only shake my head.

“On it, boss,” Vincenzo replies, his voice hoarse.

Everyone who knew Giulio will feel the loss. His death will leave a gaping hole in our lives.

“Should we take the mobile surgical unit to the warehouse?” Elio asks. “Maybe we can find something that will help us track down the group trafficking in New York.”

As I nod, there’s a commotion outside, and a second later, a man is dragged inside by Carlo and Emilio, two of my soldiers.

“We found this fucker sniffing around, boss,” Carlo explains.

With every ounce of rage I feel, I order, “Take him to the warehouse. I’ll deal with him when I’m done here.”

“Yes, boss,” Carlo replies before they drag the man away. “We should notify Franco and the others,” Elio mentions.

There’s so much to do, my mind reels, and I struggle to focus as I pull my phone out of my pocket.

Going into the group chat I have with the other heads of the Cosa Nostra, I press the video call icon.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

One after the other, they connect, and their faces fill the screen. Dario’s the first to ask, “What’s up?”

My eyes flick to Giulio’s body, and I have to swallow hard before I say, “Giulio’s been killed.”

Every face on the screen turns to stone.

“Christ, Renzo. I’m coming over,” Dario says, already on the move through his penthouse. “Where are you?”

“No. Stay near your computers. As soon as I know more, I need you to start digging for me.”

Only then does Franco recover enough from the initial shock to say, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Angelo and Damiano also give their condolences, then Damiano asks, “Do you know who killed him?”

I shake my head. “It was for organ trafficking.”

“Fuck,” Angelo mutters. “That’s not something we deal with often.” “If ever,” Dario adds.

Damiano, who’s the capo dei capi – the boss of bosses – has a dark expression tightening his features. “Find out who’s trafficking in our area and eliminate them.”

Nodding, I glance at Giulio again. “I’ll call when I have more information.”

Before any of them can say anything else, I end the call and walk closer to the operating table. The grief that’s taken a backseat to my rage returns with a soul-crushing blow as I stare at my little brother.

Leaning down, I press a kiss to his forehead, then whisper, “Addio, fratello. Ti vendicherò.”

Straightening up, I turn away from Giulio and meet Elio’s eyes. “Stay here until everything’s taken care of.”

“Where are you going,” he asks.

“To the warehouse.” Walking to the door, I add, “Let me know the second you find out anything new.”

“Okay.”

With Fabrizio and Vincenzo flanking me, we head down the alley.

He didn’t deserve to die like that.

In some fucking mobile surgical unit at the back of an alley. Cut open like he’s nothing more than cattle.

The rage in my chest turns deadly and merciless, and when we reach the sidewalk where the Bentley is parked, pedestrians scatter out of my way, fearful expressions on their faces as they shoot glances at me.

I’m going to hunt every last person responsible for Giulio’s death. No one will escape my wrath.

Walking into the warehouse, I’m met with the sorrowful faces of my men. Here and there, one of them gives me a chin lift or pays their respects, but most are quiet.

I head to the back and up the steps to the room where Carlo has the fucker they found sniffing around in the alley kneeling on the concrete floor. Emilio’s already laid out all the torture instruments and stands ready behind the man.

I unbutton my jacket, and shrugging it off, I lay it across a table before I undo the buttons of my cuffs and roll up my sleeves.

Not bothering to look at the fucker, I ask, “Do you know who I am?” “Renzo Torrisi,” he answers without hesitation.

I walk to the spread of tools we use to pry information from unwilling people and pick up a pair of pliers.

To inflict the most pain possible, I always start off with something small and work my way up. That way, it increases the pain and breaks down the man’s resistance.

Just as the fucker gets used to the pain, I hit harder.

Killing the man is not a priority. I want every ounce of information he can give.

When I walk to where he’s on his knees, I ask, “What’s your name?” “Joe.”

My voice is calm as I ask, “Who do you work for, Joe?” He shrugs. “Whoever pays the most.”

“Who hired you for this job?”

“I never see the people who hire me.” He tips his head down, gesturing to his pocket. “We only communicate via a chat room.”

My eyes flick to Emilio, and he moves forward to dig the phone from Joe’s pocket before handing it to me.

“Password,” I order. “One. V.”

I swipe over the screen, then lift an eyebrow at Joe.

“Second icon at the top of the screen,” he gives the information I need. Tapping on the app, I’m taken to a black screen with numerous topics. “Bottom right is chats,” Joe offers.

I enter the chats and tap on the top one. I read the short texts, and it confirms Joe’s just a man for hire. He was instructed to collect the pancreas and deliver it to a hospital on the other side of the city.

Letting out a sigh, I mutter, “Untie him.”

After Emilio carries out the order, Joe stands up and meets my eyes. “Can you find out who hired you?” I ask.

When he nods, I continue, “Betray me, and I’ll kill you so fucking slow, you’ll go insane from the pain.”

I hold his phone out to him, and when he takes it, he says, “I wasn’t aware the organ belonged to one of your men. I never would’ve taken the job if I’d known that.”

“You’ll communicate with Carlo,” I inform him with ice in my voice. “You have seventy-two hours to find out who hired you.”

He nods before turning his attention to Carlo. As the men leave the room, I drop the pliers back on the table and grab my jacket. When I shrug it on, I feel my phone vibrating and pull it from my pocket.

Answering Elio’s call, I say, “What did you find out?” “I’m on my way to the warehouse. Wait there for me.”

When I head down the steps to the lower level, I see Joe talking with Carlo.

I don’t believe in killing the messenger, especially if he can lead me to the person or group responsible. But the second I get all the information from Joe, he’s dead for the part he played in Giulio’s death.

As I wait for Elio, the entire morning replays in my mind, and I’m hit with blow after blow of debilitating grief.

He’s gone.

Giulio’s gone.

“Fuck,” I hiss from the sharp pain tearing through me.

I hear the roar of an engine, and my eyes flick to where the mobile surgical unit is brought into the far side of the warehouse.

A moment later, Elio comes rushing toward me, and I forcefully shove the grief back. When he nods in the direction of the office, I follow him, and after shutting the door, he pulls his phone out of his pocket.

“Give me a second. I can’t remember half the shit Bianca found out.”

As I cross my arms over my chest, he comes to stand next to me so I can see the screen of his phone, and I see a medical chart.

“So the kidney went to a woman named Skylar Davies,” Elio says. “Her father, Harlan Davies, has been paying the hospital bills, which are staggering. The man must be loaded. Dr. Bentall performed the surgery. I have men keeping an eye on all of them.”

Elio opens Google, and typing in Harlan Davies, article after article pops up. He’s big in the financial sector and on the list of wealthiest people in New York.

“Davies lost his wife in a car accident, and the daughter suffered damage to her kidneys in the same accident. She was out of time, hence Harlan buying a kidney on the black market.”

My eyes flick to Elio’s. “Why Giulio?”

“Giulio and Skylar Davies are both O-negative.” He gives me a questioning look. “Did Giulio ever donate blood? Bianca thinks they could’ve gotten his information from a blood bank and matched him with Skylar Davies.”

“Yeah. He used to date a girl who worked at the local blood bank. He did it to impress her.”

I almost chuckle, but then the realization that Giulio’s dead washes over me again.

“I suggest we grab Harlan and the doctor and find out who they bought the kidney from because looking into the blood bank to see who’s selling information is like looking for a needle in a haystack,” Elio mentions.

My little brother was fucking killed and his organs harvested because of his blood type.

Giulio was meant for greater things than that.

Walking to the couch, I slump down on it and rub my palms over my face.

The grief is downright unbearable and so fucking raw it’s oozing pain. “What do you want to do?” Elio asks.

Knowing I can be honest with my right-hand man, I mutter, “I don’t know. I can’t think right now.” I rub a hand over my chest as if it will soothe my heart. Lowering my head, I close my eyes. “Giulio’s gone.” My voice becomes hoarse from all the pain. “He’s dead.”

Elio takes a seat next to me and places his hand on my shoulder. “We all feel the loss. I’m going to miss the sound of his laughter.”

Nodding, I struggle to cling to my composure.

Giulio is dead, and I don’t have time to mourn him. I have to follow every lead while it’s hot.

I have to get up and be the fucking head of the Torrisi family people fear.

Once everyone involved is dead, I can be Giulio’s brother and grieve my loss.

Taking a deep breath, I lift my head and say, “Organize the funeral and get men to sniff around the hospitals and blood banks for information.

Don’t spook Davies or the doctor, and let the men continue watching them until I decide what to do. I don’t want word getting out that I’m looking for the fuckers who are trafficking organs in my city.”

When I stand up, Elio asks, “What are you going to do?” “I’m going to the hospital.”