“I will… I will talk,” He stuttered, his voice getting breathless, “Please stop. I swear to talk.”I stopped, my gaze not leaving his face. He swallowed a breath, realising I was dead serious. No fucking amount of lies or dragging would save him, but telling the damn truth, “It was Russo. He ordered me.”My brows raised, “Russo?”He nodded heavily, “Francesco Russo.”“What did he order?” I asked calmly.“He…” He went silent, probably think if to continue speaking or not. If he talked, Russo would kill him, if he didn’t, I would. Either way, he would die. But if he spoke the truth now, it would be faster and less painful.As he saw I was about to pull the trigger again, he continued, “He ordered me to follow your car since you left the resort.”“Hah,” I laughed. Francesco didn’t take another moment to keep his eyes on me. LOSER! If something, he made himself clear, he was behind My Wife’s kidnapping. My fists clenched tightly. “Where is she?” I asked, not dragging this further.“She?”
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