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My men and I don’t wait for any invitations. We knock, and the minute the fucker answers, we are on him, busting through the door full force. My men take him down fighting and use duct tape, handcuffs, rope, everything that we have on us to bind this guy up. He is going to tell us why he did it and who else is involved, or he is going to regret it. We will fuck him up until he dies a painful death, or he can tell us all he knows, and I might show him mercy.
I pull brass knuckles from my pocket and put them on, looking into the scared and confused eyes of Jan Constantin. The leader of the Constantin Clan is bound and waiting to see what I do next, and I like the control I feel. It’s that deep dark part of me I save for these moments. Sure, I get a little bit of control in the bedroom, but this, this is like home.
“So, tell me Jan, why in the fucking world would you order a hit out on Mariana Vasile?” I ask, getting down to his level.
“What the hell is this about, Anton?” he asks me. So, playing dumb is his tactic. I hack one into his face, a huge wad of spit to show my disrespect for this traitor.
“I asked you a fucking question. You can either answer or my men and I are going to see to it that you have a slow and agonizing death, and you will STILL tell me the answer. So, let’s try this again. Why did you order a hit on the queen of the Clans?” I seethe, giving him one last chance before I release hell on him. Actually, he will probably welcome hell with open arms when I am done with him.
“Why would I order a hit on Mariana, Anton?” he asks, daring to look me in the eye. I stand up and nod my head, giving the first order. Three of my men begin to go at him, one knocks him on the head with the butt of their gun while the other two kicked at his knees and shins. These were big guys, some of the biggest I have come across. I use them on purpose. Not even a Clan leader can go through this without feeling the pain and crying out. He seems to be trying though.
I put my hand up, causing them to stop. “Have you had enough yet? Are you ready to answer my question?”
“Do you really think I am the one who put the hit out on Mariana?” he asks, looking up at me again, and I can see a hint of defiance in his eyes, the kind that is dangerous for me. It needs to be gone. This time, I initiate the pain, the torture, with a blow to his face with the brass knuckles. His nose snaps under my fist, and the men start at it again, kicking him to the ground and going for his stomach, his back, as I continue to fuck up his smug face. His blood pools around him, as we beat him senseless, and I am surprised he is still clinging to consciousness. I can tell he is not going to give us shit. We should have done away with this vile prick long ago. He never felt right to me, so young and cocky.
I pull out my gun and hold it to the back of his head as my men pull him back up to his knees.
The sound of the front door stops us dead in our tracks. Who is coming home to Jan Constantin?
I look up and meet a pair of hazel eyes attached to a head with dark red locks flowing down over her curvy body. It is the same woman who left me at my hotel wanting more, and she is looking at me, covered in Jan’s blood, nothing but horror on her face.
