“Benny. You know better than to have your guys raise their guns at me.” I pocket my gun and put my hands in my pants pocket, walking around his men who are lying on the ground to get a better look at them.

There is no one that I recognize. No doubt they are all petty criminals thinking that working for a family in the mob would be something they should aspire to.

“Where are your cousins, Benny?” I ask as Carter moves toward him and grabs him by the shoulders, keeping him still. I move to stand right in front of him. Benny tries to get out of Carter's hold, thrashing about, but Carter never lets go.

“BENNY!” I shout, now tired of his shit and wanting answers, anger seeping out of my pores. “Where the fuck are your pathetic cousins?”

“I don’t know, Dante. I have no idea,” he breathes with a shrug, and I know he is lying.

“Wrong answer, Benny.” My fist flies out, and I punch him across his face. The sound of my knuckles hitting his flesh is like music to my ears, and so, I do it again, twice, in quick succession, to see if I can make it sound like a symphony.

Benny’s head falls back, rolling left, then right on his shoulders like a newborn baby.

“I will ask one more time, Benny. Where are Dominic and Federico?” I snarl and get up close and personal to his face, seeing the blood drip from the broken skin on his nose and lips.

“Fuck you, Dante,” he spits out, and all I see is red. It doesn’t happen often; I can count on one hand the number of times in my life where I have really lost my mind. Sure, I will fight. But right now, knowing that those two assholes are out there, hatching a plan to come for us makes my blood boil beyond control.

Like a raging bull, I unleash, all my anger and frustrations come out of my body by way of my fists. I am relentless, my vision blackening, and I only stop when Carter says my name.

“Dante!” Carter shouts, looking at me, breaking me from my trance. “He’s done. He’s dead.” He lets go of Benny, throwing his body onto the gravel where it remains lifeless, just like the other three.

Panting, I wipe my hands on my handkerchief and catch my breath, trying to calm my anger. Nodding to Carter, I look at my men. “Let’s go.” With my emotions once again in check, they follow me back through the club and out the door to the car, like the soldiers they are.