Ruthless Mafia 29

Zorah wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do, and she contemplated leaving the room as the blood pooled under the
leg of the woman who was sobbing uncontrollably.
“You shot her without even asking a question,” she accused under her breath.
“Shoot first, not fatally and question later,” Icaro retorted not even sparing Zorah a glance. “I’m questioning now. Who
are you and how did you get into this suite?”
“Who am I?” The woman wailed, “I’m Icaro Lucchesi’s mistress and we spent two incredible nights together not three weeks ago when he was last here in New York.”
“Impossible.” He shook his head. “I might not be good with names, and I might have fucked a lot of women, but I never
forget a face and yours, though unremarkable and very forgettable, is not one I remember.”
“I was with him in the palatial suite down one floor, three weeks ago.” The woman protested.
Icaro put his gun into the back of his waistband and turned his head to one side. “Nope. We did not fuck three weeks
ago.”
“I said Icaro Lucchesi.”
“And I said I don’t know who you are.”
The woman made wide eyes, “you are not Icaro Lucchesi. Icaro Lucchesi is shorter, and his eyes are brown.”
“Sorry doll, but my eyes have been blue since birth. How did you get in this suite?”
“My brother works here. He set me up months ago with Icaro Lucchesi and we meet frequently. We last spent the entire weekend together in bed. “
“Up until two weeks ago I was in Italy. I only returned back to the USA two weeks ago.”
“But you aren’t.” the woman was rocking on the floor holding her knee.
“Oh, I assure you, I am.” He looked her over, “and I would never in a million years spend an entire weekend in bed,
especially with a redhead. You are absolutely not my type. You’re too skinny and too tall. I prefer my women with tits.”
Zorah wanted to smack him in the head. “Icaro, she needs medical attention.”
“Why? I’m going to kill her either way. I first simply need to know who let her into our bridal suite.”
“You cannot kill her!”
“I definitely can kill her. Her brother too if he’s the one who let her in here.”
The woman was wailing again as Zorah stared incredulously at her husband. “It is clear she was duped!”
He looked to one of the guards, “Amauri, find her brother. Bring him to me.” His eyes roved over Zorah, and he shrugged
out of his coat. “Put this on. I do not like you mostly naked in front of my men.”
“She is completely naked!” she waved at Icaro, her voice shrill and pitchy. “It is our wedding night and there is a naked woman in the room, and you are looking at her and not even covering her up!”
“Because I don’t give a fuck about her.” He threw his hands up exasperatedly before moving to button up the jacket he
wrapped around her. “You I care about. Her, she is nothing.”
“She said you’re lovers!”
“And I’m telling you, I never saw her before in my life.”
“You also said you’ve fucked countless women!” she yelled at him, hating how she was using his language and the anger
she was feeling. “How am I to trust you can remember all of their faces or if you’ve even looked in their faces? You said
yourself you never go second so maybe you had a go at her and then the rest of this group did too!”
“Hey!” the woman on the floor, who was now quite pale and laying on her side. “I’m not a slut.” Her voice was weak, yet
she protested all the same.
“You’re in my honeymoon suite naked and telling me you had sex with my husband. Pardon me for not thinking you’re
pure and innocent,” Zorah drawled sarcastically. She didn’t miss the way the other guards coughed to hide their snickers.
Icaro moved to the woman, pulled her hair back and turned her face towards Zorah, “tell her the truth. Have you and I
ever fucked?”
“No.”
“See!” he dropped her head down on the floor with a thump.
“You shot her!”
“She is an intruder in our hotel room. She’s lucky it was in her knee and not her face.”
“You cannot go around simply shooting people.”
“Yes, actually I can. By definition of mobster, it is exactly what I do.”
“Sir,” Amauri stepped back into the room and shoved a man to his knees. “This is the guest experience manager. He gave
his sister your towels to bring to the room. It is how she got in.”
“She has a text message from you saying to come meet her,” the man was whimpering as he clasped his hands in front of
his chest. “The message said the palatial suite, but I knew you were here in this suite, so I sent her here instead.”
Icaro looked around the room and stalked off to the purse near the trench coat and fished the phone from inside. He
held it in front of the woman’s face and waited for it to unlock and then scrolled through her messages. He looked at
Amauri.
“Take a crew to the palatial suite and bring the fool who is lying to women and stealing my name as his own.” He looked
to the woman on the floor, “did he at least fuck you well? This so-called Icaro Lucchesi?”
She didn’t even answer her eyes fluttering shut causing Icaro to wave at another man, “make sure she stays alive long
enough to make an ID on the guy we bring up here.” He glared at the guest experience manager, “tell me, do you
routinely set up women for this man who is pretending to be me?”
He nodded vigorously, “he always calls down. I’ve never seen him in person, and I presumed he was you. You both always
take the same suite and you’ve never been here at the same time, and nobody has ever argued the credit card charges.”
“Because we own the hotel dipshit. Nobody is even paying for the room downstairs because I’ve never even put a credit
card on file. You have been here how long?”
“I was promoted in January.” He looked at the woman, “is my sister dead? Please. She thought you were in love with her
and were going to marry her and she was going to live a life of luxury. She works as a dancer at one of the clubs
downtown.”
Zorah was pacing small circles in the far corner of the room, avoiding looking at the unconscious woman and the man
she was fairly certain defecated in his trousers.
“Zorah,” Icaro called her name. “She was rude to you and interrupted your wedding night. I can finish her off here so you
get the satisfaction of your honor being restored or the boys can take her out to do it. Which would you prefer?”
Zorah contemplated this might be the dumbest question she was ever asked.