≫ A Dark Mafia Romance ≪
Francesca "Frankie" is undeniably stunning, her ethereal beauty drawing all eyes towards her. A fusion of classic allure and edgy charm. Francesca is fiercely skilled as a criminal defense lawyer. However, there's a cruel ed...
"We should forgive our enemies, but not before they are hanged."
- Heinrich Heine
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I made my way down to Goat's cellar, where my men had brought a man I had ordered for interrogation. The man - Adam, was a part of Theodore's crew. I held no love for the scum, and even though I'd told Theodore to give him the boot, he refused, claiming Adam had a family to feed. I could always tell Adam was a greedy sort. I saw the way his eyes would bulge at the sight of money bags. Greedy men were always the most dangerous - they were the most prone to double-crossing.
Adam had already been thoroughly roughed up, and now I would assess if he was prepared to loosen his lips.
"I want answers, Adam," I said in a calm but firm voice. "Why did you keep quiet about Daniel and Sarah?"
My reputation of ruthless brutality spanned the entire breadth of Chicago, earning me the two chilling nicknames of: The Soulless Butcher and/or The Icy Surgeon. People told stories about my skill with a blade, and how I understood perfectly where to stab for maximum fatal outcome. My secret weapon was my thorough understanding of human anatomy, allowing me to inflict wounds without splashing myself with my victim's blood.
Adam avoided my gaze, his eyes cast downwards in fear. He had already been through the wringer with Goat and Zane, but I could tell he still had some fight left in him.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Adam mumbled, his voice weak and unconvincing.
I chuckled darkly. "Come now, Adam. You don't think we know about your involvement in their disappearance? You're not the first rat we've caught."
My hand casually grazed over the lethal sharpness of my knife fastened to my belt, making the subtle threat obvious. "Want to know what really irritates me, Adam?" I asked in a voice unsettlingly calm.
Adam stumbled on his words, caught in an internal debate on whether he was expected to reply. "B.. betrayal?" he stammered, his lips trembling as he eyed the blade in my hand.
"No, spinach," I corrected him. "Hate that shit. It's inexplicable why people insist on including it in every dam thing, even smoothies, of all things."
Adam shifted uncomfortably, unpredictable mix of threats and jests cranking up his anxiety. "I...I didn't mean to...I was just following orders," he stuttered.
I leaned in closer to him, my eyes drilling into his. "Orders from who?" I demanded.
He hesitated, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but no words came out.
"You see," I began, my tone casual, almost friendly if not for the deadly undercurrent in my words, "I'm a reasonable man. But my patience has limits."
Adam closed his eyes, desperately trying to calm his breathing.
