THE MAFIA'S LAWYER |✔️

☆21☆ Ryxel's other family

At a certain airport phone calls were swiftly exchanged with someone who bore an alien accent giving strict instructions. His voice was a hoarse and surprisingly cool, nevertheless intimidating. He sounded disturbed and thoroughly infuriated. Due to the immense anger that his rough voice was coated in, he made some dangerous threats that the person who was apparently standing infront of a line of cars stuttered as he spoke and kept mumbling faint apologies. In the background of the latter sounds of weak furniture were heard. But they seemed to fall with a heavy thud.

" fucking give those drugs to only and only my son, RYXEL GRANDE BLACK. Give them to any useless lowlife and I will lower you into a grave alive."

"Yes, sir!" Came a humble but loud response.

"And do deliver my personal message to Mr. Ryxel Grande Black." He said the 'Mr' with extreme pride and confidence.

"Yes, Boss."

"Not Boss, Damien. But father." The person on the other side of the line said in a blissful tone that anyone would be fooled and fall for it. Damien knew his boss well enough. Yes he regarded his men as family but he didn't consider that when it came to business. And however fell for it was a weak hearted person who he would get rid of immediately. He had no room for family in business except for one person, Ryxel Grande Black.

"Boss!"

On hearing, Damien address him as Boss even after he had told him to call him father made his insides boil with power and full authority. He felt his ego being worshipped with respect.

"Damien!" He called with full command.

"Yes, boss."

"I suppose you didn't let anyone who isn't Ryxel see our private airport."

"No, Boss. We were at a public airport, when the man turned up."

"Smart!"

"Thank you, Boss."

"First get the work properly done and then you will get my full praise. That was only a reflex."

"I will Boss."

"Joder!" (Fuck) Fucking move from there right now! Now, Damien!" The man roared.

The man who had been giving the instructions hang up with bitterness and unease. But a second later, he was composed. He looked at the fallen bodies tied to furniture and without delay, he shot right through their skulls. The four bodies lay lifeless in front of him. With the support of his royal walking stick, he squatted to their level and pulled out a blade and cut across one of the necks of the dead bodies. With his, index finger, he dug deep in the open throat and collected blood. He licked it and savoured on it like it was chocolate ice cream.

"The blood of a traitor tastes as good as a prostitute's fuck!"

And then his evil laughter echoed in the dead silent and dark room. When his laughter came to an end a gloomy expression wore his face.

"Ryxel, my son. I hope you are seven times a copy of me. That would make me more proud than I am right now."

And then the diabolic laughter resumed.

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Six black cars parked in the spacious hanger. Three at either opposite side of the mammoth airport. The private land had several private jets paraded in a row. And a bunch of men in black were all over the place. At every corner was a man who seemed to unconcerned about what was taking place but in reality, they were observing everything.