His cousins, although not riders, were all proficient as well. They worked together for the good of the family. It was drilled into them from birth. There was no other way of life but that constant training of the body, turning it into a weapon, and the education of the mind.

Stefano was fast, systematic and relentless. Tidwell didn’t land a single punch. The beating was both brutal and savage. Deliberate. Inflicting as much pain as possible. Lamps were smashed, furniture overturned and beer bottles crushed as the boxer tried his best to get away from the punishing blows. Eventually, and way too soon as far as Stefano believed, Tidwell hit the floor hard. Stefano didn’t end it there, but continued the vicious assault.

“You’re going to kill him,” Giovanni pointed out. “He needs to sign over the building. He’s already unconscious.”

Stefano stepped back immediately. In spite of his jacket, he hadn’t worked up much of a sweat. “You know what to do when it’s done, Giovanni,” he said. “Make certain you drop a few hundred thousand into his account so it’s all legit. We want the deal to be solid and to stand up under any scrutiny, especially if this fucker goes missing.”

“Stefano,” Giovanni cautioned. His tone was mild.

The two brothers locked gazes. Stared at each other while the temperature in the room seemed to go up and the air was so heavy with rage, it felt impossible to breathe.

“Damn it, Gee.”

“I know. I feel the same way.” Giovanni didn’t look away.

Stefano sighed and shook his head. “Where do I put this rage?”

“Not here. You know that. Nothing close to us. Nothing personal. He has to be seen. We can beat the shit out of him, but that’s all. We protect the family. Always.”

“Fucking call New York. I want Geno in on this one,” Stefano capitulated softly. His cousin Geno from New York would have to handle the problem of Bart Tidwell. He yanked out his cell phone and dialed a number.

“Yeah, Saldi, Stefano Ferraro. I’m standing here in this piece of shit’s apartment. I understand he belongs to you.”

There was silence.

“Tidwell,” Stefano confirmed. “He was after my woman. He’s got hundreds of recordings the cops would like to get ahold of. Rapes he committed. Watching the women in his building. He’s got it right in his bedroom. That’s how stupid this dumb fuck is.”

The explosion of foul words on the other end of the phone was loud enough for everyone in the room to hear.

“Out of courtesy, we’re going to destroy that evidence,” Stefano assured, his voice soothing. “We’ll leave the fucker on your doorstep. He’ll be a little worse for wear, but that might be beneficial. He might listen. If not, well, that’s up to you.”

More silence while Stefano listened.

“No, Saldi, that’s not what’s going to happen.” Stefano’s voice dropped even lower. “He fucking went after my woman. He’s going to pay, and he’s damn lucky I feel in the mood to extend courtesy to you. He’s going to hand over the building and he’s going to get the beating of his life. He can count himself lucky that’s all that’s happening. He comes near what’s mine again, I’ll rip his fucking heart out. Got that? Are we clear? I hope we are, because if you really want to go to war over this piece of shit, I’m willing. That’s how pissed I am right now.”

More silence while the voice on the other end soothed him. Assured him the deal was fine. Stefano snapped his cell phone shut—the cell phone that made his brothers and sister laugh at him. He had a bad habit of throwing the damn thing whenever it pissed him off, which was often. They thought he should have a smartphone, the way they all did, but he liked slamming the damn thing closed when he was annoyed with whoever was on the other end. He looked at his brother. “I want Vinci to make certain the real estate deal is airtight. Tell Geno this weekend when we’re at the club. If Tidwell’s in Saldi’s home, all the better.”

“Sorry, Stefano. No.” Emilio shook his head. “Not this one, cousin. This one’s mine.”

Stefano’s gaze jumped to his cousin. “I had another job in mind for you, Emilio.” They didn’t like any other family member other than a rider to get blood on their hands if at all possible. Emilio had a kind heart, but he was a Ferraro through and through. He didn’t like men who harmed women.

“What would that be?”

Stefano jerked his head toward the door. Reluctantly, Emilio followed him out into the hall. “Call Vittorio and tell him you’ll meet him at Joanna’s house. I want her woken up tonight. Have him drag her ass out of bed and down to you. The two of you get answers. Those answers had better make sense to me.”