Undressed By The Mafia God novel Chapter 467

Chapter 467: The Beginning of the End of Marco

But what was he supposed to do with a mountain of a man before him.

"Shit!" Tony cursed suddenly.

Marco stopped with his hand on the door. Slowly, he turned. "What?" Marco asked.

Tony had bent near the counter, one hand braced against the unfinished wood, his face twisted into annoyance. "Ugh..." Tony pointed beneath the counter. "The socket underneath here is damaged."

Marco’s eyes narrowed.

"I need to test all of these," Tony said quickly, gesturing to the machines scattered around the counter. "See if they’re working so we can return them if we need to."

"Do you have any tools?"

"Yeah..." Tony swallowed. "They should be somewhere around here, I guess." He moved to the small desk at the corner of the shop. Tony opened one drawer. Nothing. Another drawer. A few receipts, a roll of tape. He muttered to himself, digging around until he finally pulled out a toolbox.

"Found it," he said, forcing a laugh. Tony placed the toolbox on the counter.

The metal gave a dull clink. Marco walked back over. He opened the box and picked up one of the screwdrivers. The handle was slightly worn, red plastic faded at the edges.

He got to his knees beneath the counter and leaned forward, checking the socket. Tony stood behind him.

Tony’s eyes kept darting to the front door. Then to Marco’s back. Then to the front door again. His palms had gone damp. His throat worked as he swallowed, swallowed again, and tried to breathe. He was shaking now.

Marco knew. Marco had pieced it together. The coffee shop. Bianca. The visits. The girlfriend. The missing thread that had been sitting in front of all of them.

If Marco walked out of that shop, Tony was done. Vee would know. Luca would know and Luca tore answers out of men but he wasn’t exactly afraid of Luca as much as he was afraid of David.

Tony looked at the screwdriver in Marco’s hand then at the toolbox. His breath came faster. He had to do something. He reached into the toolbox. Tony’s fingers closed around the hammer.

For one second, he only held it there, hidden beside his thigh, testing the weight of it in his palm. It was heavy.

His heartbeat was so loud he could barely hear Marco moving beneath the counter.

Think.

He needed to think but panic was chewing through every sensible part of him. Tony looked toward the door again.

Sunlight. Freedom. A street full of people who had no idea the floor beneath him had opened. Marco shifted beneath the counter.

Think.

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