Then he raises his head as much as his restraints allow.
“I am not in Sicily on Schiavone’s behalf, you idiots. I came here to bring justice to the Cosa Nostra. I am merely an avenger of the crimes committed by the Vitale Family.”
His smile widens.
“Your father is dead, and soon I will follow him down the same path. Since you are standing here and your father is not, I suppose I should offer my condolences.”
I grab the crowbar and strike his knees.
An audible crack echoes through the room.
The groan remains trapped inside his chest, the pain too severe for him to even scream.
Saliva spills from his mouth and soaks his chest while his leg trembles with continuous spasms of agony.
“Knees hurt…” he gasps. “Did you know that?”
He struggles for another breath.
“Like hell, but… I am go
