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Chapter 1 - Arseny
This day is not turning out how I want it to, which makes me seriously unhappy. I pull into the parking lot at Afantasy and get out of my car. I have a present waiting for me, but it does nothing but sour my mood further.
Several hits on my brothers’ lives, four children born, rival thugs trying to scam my baby brother’s casino, all these things, and even though we stopped the Pachecos, we still lost a great deal of money. They shot up the casino, chasing away regular clients and costing us thousands in damages and compensation pay for the staff.
That’s not including the money they tried to extort out of us. I hate them. I hate when people think they can take on my family and live to tell the tale. I always knew Kervyn to be a hard-hearted, stoic man, but then he had a child and has another on the way, and now he has become far too reasonable.
There isn’t time to be reasonable, dammit. We need to show our force. We need to play our hand and show that we are not to be fucked with. Kervyn at least gave me the two Pachecos we caught in our last raid. Now, I get to play the way I want to. It’s my job to send a message to the Pacheco family to ensure that they learn to back off now.
We’re done taking their bullshit.
I walk into the club and toward the stairs, except instead of going upstairs to Kervyn’s office, I go downstairs to my dungeon. That’s precisely what it is: a dungeon where I can torture and kill people in Kervyn’s name as and when needed.
Today, the Pachecos are lucky. They will simply serve as a warning to others. The next time they try something, they’ll find my blade slitting their throats rather than carving into their skin.
I was good at art and design in school. It had interested me a lot, and had I not been looped into the family business, I probably would have become an artist, much like Asher is now.
Although sculpting and carving are my specialties, I have found other creative outlets to meet my needs.
I open the door and close it.
“Let us go, you freak,” Armello Pacheco shouts at me from the table he’s bound to. He’s stripped to his underwear and shackled down. His cousin, Filipe Pacheco, is bound to another table.
“You can shout all you want,” I say. “The room is completely soundproof. I could shoot you with a sawed-off shotgun, and no one would hear a thing.”
“What ransom do you want? I’ll get my brother on the line, and he’ll pay whatever you think you’re owed,” Armello says.
I pick up my knife. It’s a special kind of chef’s carving knife. I’ve sharpened it so well that it will slice through anything.
I twirl it carelessly through my fingers without cutting myself before I capture it in my hand and point it at Armello’s chest. “What shall I write? Loser? Traitor? Snitch?”
“I’m no snitch!” Armello growls.
I start to slice into his skin, and he cries out. I carve a beautiful half-moon on his chest before I flick my wrist and cut across his cheek. “Perhaps a rose on your face.”
With my free hand, I grab his face and hold it still as I start to carve the pretty little flower into his forehead. I ignore the blood leaking out of the cuts, both on his face and chest. I know to cut deep enough to make sure it scars.
I carve the stem and flick little thorns off that, nearly nicking his eye. “Oops.”
I let him go, and he tried to blink the blood away from his eyes.
“Felipe. It’s your turn, you little asshole. What would you like today?” I turn to Felipe and walk toward him. He’s also shackled to a bed and shakes his head.
“Please. No,” he begs. “My looks mean the world to me.”
“Should have thought about that before you fucked with the Milov family and got caught,” I say with a frown.
I grip his face and lift the knife. “I know exactly what I’m going to carve your face into.”
I work slowly, ignoring his wriggling and shouts of pain. I etch the skull on his face and know it’s going to be there for the rest of his life.
“I don’t know. I think you look more handsome,” I say as I step away. My hands are covered in blood. “Right, you would do well tell your brothers and cousins that if they continue to start with the Milov family, next time I’ll kill you and carve your body up for dinner.”
I go to the sink in the room and rinse my hands off. I press a buzzer, and two guards come in. “Keep them stripped to their underwear and leave them in the desert on the outskirts of town. You can let their cousins know to pick them up there.”
“Yes, boss,” Lawrence says. “Where do you want me to meet you after?”
“I’m fine for the rest of the day. You can just take the day off,” I say, waving him off. I put my suit jacket back on again and walk out of the room.
