Stefano bit out several ugly words, ripped the cord from the wall and slammed the screen to the floor. It shattered with a loud crash. “I want all of these DVDs collected and destroyed. Every single one of them.”

Enzo nodded. “What do you want done with him?”

“Who inherits the building if he disappears?”

Tidwell let out a mewing noise and frantically shook his head. Stefano glanced at him. The man was on his knees, his mouth bleeding, his nose broken and one cheek split open. Emilio had returned, and he was definitely nearly as angry as Stefano.

“No one,” Romano reported. “It will be a nightmare for the tenants. Renato checked in. He has an aunt, but she’s not listed as his heir, but my guess is when it’s all straightened out, she’ll be the one inheriting and she’s married to a . . .”

“Saldi. Fucking building should be condemned,” Emilio snarled. He took out a gun and pressed the barrel to Tidwell’s head. “Pervert needs to die, Stefano. Give me the word.”

“Not like that,” Giovanni said. “You’re as bad as my brother. Get Vinci. We’ll need his expertise. Nothing like having a lawyer in the family. Stefano, let us take care of this piece of shit and you get your woman and get her the hell out of here.”

“You take this building, Giovanni,” Emilio said, “and we’re going to be bleeding money into it for a long time. To include it, we’ll have to expand our borders. We need a vote on that.”

Stefano glared at him. “Fuck the vote. Some of these women have been through enough. He filmed his own rapes. Did you look at those titles? We can renovate the building and give them a decent place to live.”

Tidwell tried to rise and Stefano turned and hit him. Stefano was enormously strong and the man went down as if he’d been hit with a baseball bat.

Emilio shrugged. “I guess I can’t argue with that.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “I’ll call Vinci and have him get over here to straighten this out.”

Stefano pinned Tidwell with his eyes. Flat. Cold. Killer’s eyes. “You want to sell this piece of real estate, don’t you, Tidwell? It’s nothing but an albatross around your neck.”

“You don’t know who you’re fucking with.” Tidwell spat on the floor at Stefano’s feet, a mixture of blood and saliva.

Stefano raised his eyebrow. “You mean your connection to the Saldi family? We know. You get into a lot of trouble, Bart. A lot. You make Adamo work for his money, don’t you? They have to continually send their top lawyer in to get your ass out of trouble. Then there’s the muscle to scare the crap out of your victims and the witnesses. You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

“My aunt . . .”

“Thinks you’re a piece of shit, and her husband knows you are. Selling this building would make them happy, don’t you think?” Stefano’s voice was softer than ever. He pushed at the soft leather between his fingers, bringing Tidwell’s attention to his thin gloves.

Tidwell licked his lips and then shook his head. “No. No. I don’t want . . .”

Emilio crouched low and shoved his gun under Tidwell’s chin. “That’s too bad. My cousin’s woman is in this building and you were violating her privacy. He’s not a patient or forgiving man the way I am.”

“I didn’t know. I didn’t know who she was. I swear, I wasn’t going to touch her. I’ve stopped doing that. Adamo said if I did it again . . . I’m cured.”

“You want to sell, don’t you, Tidwell?” Stefano asked again, ignoring his confession and declaration.

Tidwell looked around the apartment, his gaze going cunning. “Yes. Yes. Let me up. I’ll sign any papers.”

Stefano smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile, but then he wasn’t feeling nice. Tidwell thought himself a fighter. He was big, and most bar fights he got into were with others not his size. They didn’t have his skill.

“Let him up,” he ordered softly.

Emilio stepped back and Tidwell exploded into action, rushing Stefano, trying to wrap him up with both arms. Stefano stepped to the side and slammed his fist deep into Tidwell’s ribs. He felt the satisfying give beneath the devastating punch. Tidwell grunted. Turned white.

Stefano had trained from the time he was two years old. He’d never stopped training. His four brothers and sister had all been put through the same regimen as he had. They were pitted against the best opponents the family could find until they moved like lightning, smooth and fast, each punch or kick penetrating the body with such force, it shook up the insides, broke bones and damaged internal organs. They still trained every single day.