Agent 20

Chapter 5

Damien's POV

I've just had the shittiest day and it couldn't get any worse. I woke up in a bad mood and everyone just seemed to be getting on my nerves. My day didn't go well, especially with my dad pressuring me to get a wife. I didn't really need that right now. Not wanting to spoil my mood any further, I just buried myself in paperwork the whole day. A knock sounded on my door, making me groan in frustration.

"Come in," I said, Lucas, one of my men, stepped in. "And you better have a good reason or I'll kill you right here, right now." Lucas gulped in fear but spoke relentlessly.

"I came to remind you about the scientist that came to borrow some money for a huge project he was working on, and you promised to come check it out today. The meeting place is at the club, sir."

I rubbed my head from the headache I was getting. I totally forgot about that. "Is there anything else?" I asked.

"There was a man that borrowed money from you a few months ago. The repayment is overdue by a week."

I smirked mischievously. Now, that's what I wanted to hear. I quickly reached for my drawer, opened it, and brought out my gun, making sure it was loaded. I walked out of my office with Lucas following closely behind.

Walking into my warehouse, I received a lot of bows and people fearfully turned their eyes away from me for fear of meeting my gaze. I smirked, satisfied by the respect I got. We soon entered a dimly lit hallway, and the familiar small of blood I had grown accustomed to hit my nose.

Finally, we came across a wide room filled with different cells, all empty except for one. Walking to the front of the cell, I observed the unconscious man whose hands were chained at both sides. He had bruises and cuts on his face and arms, indicating that he had received a few beatings before I got there.

"Wake him up," I said, and one of my men came forward and splashed water on him. The man jerked up immediately, looking left and right, trying to take in his unfamiliar environment. A look of confusion appeared on his face, which turned into fear as soon as he saw me.

"Mr. Von, I'm so sorry. I don't have your money yet, but I'm working on it, please sir. Just give me a little more time," he pleaded.

I smirked at the evident fear in his face. I loved when people feared me. I hissed, showing my displeasure, "Did I ask you to speak?" I asked in a deadly tone.

"I'm sorry, sir," he said, groaning in fear.

I raised my hand up as an indication for him to be quiet, which he immediately obeyed. "One week. I give you one more week to pay me."

"Thank you, sir. I won't disappoint yo--"

I raised my hand again, signaling for him to be quiet. "I wasn't done talking yet," I said, dropping my hand. I walked over to a table by the side filled with different torture weapons. His fear visibly intensified, but I needed to make sure he understood.

"So, I'll have to take something from you," I said, picking up a small knife from the table and walking calmly towards him, making him shake and beg in fear. Ignoring his pleas, I grabbed his arm and sliced off three of his fingers. The sound of his cries echoed around the room. Once I was satisfied, I glanced at the man who had fainted out of pain and shock, and tossed the bloody knife on the table.

I was passed a rag, which I used to clean off the blood on my knuckles. Tossing it on the ground, I walked out of the cell. I needed to blow off some steam. Walking out of the warehouse, I looked at the time. It was 7:00 pm. Walking towards my car, I dismissed my driver, telling him to go home for the day. Entering my car, I zoomed off to one of my clubs to let out some steam.