Page 28 of His Retribution

I nod my head in reply and wait for the sting of the needle as the machine resumes its buzzing.

This time, when the needles strike my skin, it stings. I try to relish in the pain. Allowing it to ripple over me and punish my soul. After several hours of sitting stiffly in the chair my shoulders ache. The skin is raw and tender now, each stroke sends searing hot pain in every direction. Stroke after unforgiving stroke. A weaker man might beg for mercy, not me my jaw is set and my face remains a perfect stone carving free from an ounce of emotion. The Don watches on in admiration as I take my punishment. When the design is finished the man in the suite wipes the ointment across my shoulders and gives it a smack of approval.

“Do you want to see it?” The Don asks, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“No. It will only be a reminder of the shame I must bear,” I reply, standing to collect my shirt and jacket.

“You might be surprised then, Christian.” He taunts, nodding towards the large mirror on an adjacent wall.

Curiosity gets the best of me. I find myself making my way to the mirror. To gaze upon the reminder. When I turn to look over my shoulder I suck my breath in with a gasp, shattering my stone cold facade. In the reflection a pair of intricate feathers and wings with a skull in the center stare back at me. They are delicate yet foreboding with the skull that ties the pair together. I’ve earned a pair of cardinal wings bestowed upon me by the Don Father himself. My chest swells with pride as I am filled with intense emotions. If my father was alive to see this, to look on at my battle scars, my missteps, and my honorary marks I know he would approve. I take a deep breath, recomposing my face before I turn to gaze into the Don Father’s eyes. There’s a semblance of parental pride there. He’s taken me under his wing and raised me the way he would have raised a son. I’m sure there’s a paternal bond somewhere beneath his emotionless exterior. As I stare at him I notice the way the edges of his mouth are fighting to turn up in a smile, the way he stands so cool and collected, menacing, and yet beneath that exterior there’s a piece of humanity somewhere.

“But why?” I ask the Don trying to hold back the emotions surging through me.

“Because you are loyal, Christian. Now bring this city to her knees. Make her beg for your forgiveness. Make her beg for mercy, but most of all, Christian, make her fear you!”

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