Ravaging Bonds✔️

C H A P T E R 7

The dark room was small and suffocating. A man was tied to the chair. He was in worse condition. His shirt was soaked in blood. His face was red and black from the beating. His lips were busted, and a gun wound was on his leg. The only source of light was a small bulb hanging from the top.

The door opened, and heavy footsteps were heard. The man flinched as the light came into contact with his eyes. A chair was placed before him, and his eyes widened upon seeing the person sitting in front of him. "Aryan..." His voice was low and full of fear. The whole underground mafia knew him.

He was more ruthless than everyone and could kill without battling his eyes. Aryan held a devilish, crazy smirk on his face. "Hello to you," his voice cold and stoic. His eyes grazed on the man, and his smirk grew. "My men have done a good number of you, I see."

"Please....le...leave me..." The man pleaded though it gave nothing but satisfaction to Aryan. He smirked. "Luke read out his file." The man a little older than him was standing beside him. He was lukewarm. He opened the file and then looked at the man. He was dead.

"He stole 50 million euros, gave tips to the Russian mafia who blew up our arms ship, and he even distributed the cancelled-out drugs in India." By the time Luke finished reading, Aryan had a maniac smile on his face. He got up from his seat and walked to the nearby table.

Screwdrivers, hammers, knives, scalpels, etc. were present there. He picked up a hammer and looked at the man. He rotated the hammer and, in a swift motion, slammed it on the man's knee, perhaps breaking it. An ear-piercing voice was heard, followed by another as he broke another knee.

"You bastards think the Indian mafia is paying you for delivering the wrong drugs and playing with the lives of thousands of people; you think the Italian mafia is paying you for giving out information to the Russian mafia. You moron and you have the fucking audacity to say sorry." By the time Aryan was speaking, he had already picked up a screwdriver.

He pushed it into his stomach, making the man scream in agony, and then twisted it. It hurt the man more. The screams were like music to his ears. He was smiling like a maniac.

After two hours of torture, the man was dead, lying limpless on the chair. His hands were missing fingers, and his whole body was perforated by the wounds. Aryan threw away the gun, which dealt a final blow to his forehead. He was covered in blood.

Kicking the chair away, he walked out of the room, followed by Luke, who instructed the guards to clean it. "What's up in Italy? Is my presence needed there?" Aryan asked as he wiped his hands off. He needed to change the shirt, though. "No, Aryan, all is okay. The Greeks have called for a truce. I will be leaving tomorrow, and Zany will come here."

"Thanks, man" Aryan said.

*****

The doorbell brought Simran out of her fantasy world. She was curled up on the sofa reading a book that she got from the library in the mansion. She wrapped the blanket around her properly and went to open the door.

There stood Aryan, leaning on the wall. His bloody shirt was changed, and his hair was wet, which hinted at him having a shower. "Hey, baby girl," he said, and then lowered his head, planting a casual kiss on her forehead. Simran stood there, stupefied. Aryan straightened back and looked at her up and down.

She was looking so cute wrapped up in a blanket. She was nothing less than a baby. Suddenly, a growling sound pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked at her, and she was embarrassed. "Haven't you done dinner till now?" his voice suddenly turned stern. Simran nodded, making him sigh.