If The Seas Catch Fire(117)

“Make so much as a peep,” Sergei growled, setting the phone out of reach. “And you’ll be dead well before security gets here.”

Tumino gulped. “What the hell is this?”

“We’ve got some questions,” Dom said. “And it seems you’re a man who might have some answers.”

“No, no.” Tumino scooted to the edge of the couch, groaning as he did. “No, I’m not gonna get involved in this.” He started to get up, but froze when Dom pulled out a pistol.

“Sit. The f*ck. Down.”

Sergei glanced at Dom, eyebrows up. Shit. He had a bigger spine than Sergei’d thought.

Tumino wisely sat back down. He leaned against the back of the sofa. “What do you two want?”

“I want to know how far back Felice is involved in all this shit,” Dom said. “Is it true that he called in the hit on me?”

Tumino gulped. “I…”

“Answer the question,” Dom said in a low growl that made Sergei shiver. He hadn’t seen this side of him before. Dom stepped closer, Tumino’s eyes tracking the pistol. “Come on. Fucking answer, or—”

“You know I can’t say nothing.” Tumino shifted, grimacing painfully. “I can’t talk just like you can’t talk.”

“I couldn’t give a f*ck less about omerta right now, *,” Dom said. “As long as I’m alive, I am the boss of the Maisano organization. Which means I can order a bullet into your head if I’m so inclined. I could even ask the Georgian to fire it for me.”

Tumino’s eyes flicked toward Sergei.

“So.” Dom folded his arms. “You ready to talk?”

The man still didn’t speak.

“Oh for f*ck’s sake.” Sergei held out his hand. “Give me the gun.”

Dom hesitated, but gave it to him, butt first.

Tumino watched the exchange and paled.

Sergei stepped in front of him, dug the gun into a couch cushion beside Tumino, and fired. The couch muffled the shot enough that it wouldn’t draw attention from the main house, but it was still enough to leave his ears ringing a bit.

He jammed the pistol against Tumino’s forehead.

Tumino pressed his lips together, wisely stifling what was probably a scream.

“Hot, isn’t it?” Sergei snarled.

“You son of a—”

“Tell us what we want to know, or your balls are next.” He shoved the weapon into the man’s crotch, and when Tumino whimpered, he added, “Don’t think I won’t shoot one of them off if you keep testing my patience.”

“You f*cking psycho! You’re—”

“I’m going to give you a ballistic vasectomy if you don’t—”

“All right! All right!” The man gulped. “I’ll talk.”

Sergei withdrew the gun and stepped back. “You’ve got five seconds to start talking.”

“Okay, okay.” Tumino fidgeted on the couch, eyeing the bullet hole. “It’s Felice. Everything… it all goes back to him.”

Dom’s expression hardened. “Tell us more.”

Tumino nodded. “Felice’s been pulling the strings from the start. The orders never come directly from him. It’s always one of his boys. But I know who’s in charge. They give me the order, and I pass it on to, well…” He nodded toward Sergei. “A while back, after Barcia was killed, Felice was pissed off that Corrado wouldn’t authorize a hit on the boys who did him in. He knew he needed to raise the ante to get Corrado to fire back.” He gestured at Dom. “So he had someone rough you up.”

Dom blinked. “Felice ordered that?”

Tumino nodded. “He didn’t think the men who did it would wind up dead, but they did, and that gave him even more leverage against the Cusimanos.”

Sergei and Dom exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“It’s the same reason he wanted you offed out on the boat that day—because if his father realized you’d been killed, and he saw how easily it could’ve been Felice, he’d have had no choice but to retaliate. After Corrado didn’t react when Felice had Eugenio Cusimano framed for killing Nicolá Cannizzaro, he—”

“Wait, what?” Dom cocked his head. “So who did kill Cannizzaro?”

Sergei thumbed the trigger guard. Heart speeding up, he said, “I did.”

Dom’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I was specifically paid to make it look like Eugenio killed him.”

“So then…” Dom shook his head. To Tumino, he said, “Are you saying Felice arranged for Sergei to kill Cannizzaro and make it look like Cusimano did it, so that Corrado would issue a contract on Cusimano?”

Tumino nodded. “So Corrado had Eugenio taken out, but Raffaele Cusimano didn’t retaliate the way Felice wanted him to, so Felice had to stir the pot a little more.”

“But why?” Dom asked.

“Because he wanted the families at war. The more he could convince his father that the Cusimanos were getting violent, the more he could convince his father to respond with the same.” Tumino squirmed, grimacing, though it was hard to say if the discomfort came from his condition or the looming threats. “Once things were going to shit, he could get his brother and father out of the way, and take over the family without anyone thinking twice.” He stared up at them. “That’s all I know. I don’t know what else I can say.”