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Chapter One
Alceu
Darkness and death have been part of my life for longer than I can remember. I can’t think of a time that wasn’t dark, dangerous, and bloody. I prefer it this way. I flourish in the dark. And today isn’t any exception.
Screams float through the open space of the abandoned warehouse, caressing my ears like a lullaby would a child. This is my music, my masterpiece, the feather in my cap. No one does what I do better than me. Pain and torture are instruments I play with precision.
My gaze is locked on the man before me. He is covered in blood, sweat, piss, and probably a couple of things I don’t want to even think about. He has been strapped to the chair for the past four hours, and in those hours, he has divulged the secrets of my greatest enemy.
Salvador Berlusconi.
That bastard has been a thorn in my side since I first took over after my father passed away. That’s over ten fucking years! Absolutely fucking ridiculous! My New Year’s resolution is to get rid of him once and for all. Although the crying, pissing mess tied to the chair has given me all the information he has, none of it is new to me.
“Tell me, Matteo,” I speak evenly to the man. “Do you want the torture to stop?”
“Yes,” he garbles.
“Then tell me. What is Salvador’s greatest weakness?”
This is the thing I really need to know. I have knowledge of all his operations. Drugs, guns, women. But all those things are easy to replace. I need to find his greatest weakness and exploit it. Breaking him from the inside is what I need to do.
“What?” Matteo asks, spit falling from his mouth onto his bare chest.
“What. Is. Salvador’s. Greatest. Weakness?” I ask loudly this time, pronouncing each word individually.
Matteo’s eye that isn’t swollen shut widens dramatically before he shakes his head vehemently.
“Matteo. Stop,” I order. “This can go one of two ways. I can torture you until you break, and then I will kill you. Or you can tell me what I want to know, and I will kill you quickly. Dealer’s choice.”
Matteo remains silent as he seems to weigh his options. His shoulders sag as he finally comes to the conclusion that he doesn’t have much of a choice. He won’t be leaving here alive either way.
“Giulia. Giulia Rossi,” Matteo mumbles.
“Thank you.” I smile as I run my blade across his jugular.
His blood spills over his damaged torso onto the floor, to pool beneath the chair. I watch as the life leaves his eyes, and his head flops forward before I feel another smile cross my face.
Giulia Rossi.
I hope she’s ready because I am coming for her.
