𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐚 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬
Having a normal childhood was for Axel and Isabella impossible. They both grew up in different households and different worlds. They don't have anything in common except, they're both messed...
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I ROLLING MY SLEEVES up while standing in front of that asshole who tried to hurt Isabella in our apartment. When she called me, telling me that someone is in our apartment with a knife, I lost it. I speeded through the city so that I could reach her faster.
When I arrived there she had already knocked him out which I was proud of.
I told my men to bring him here so that I can deal with him.
"So we can make do this the easy way or the hard way it depends on you," I grabbed the chair that was in the room and sat down in front of him.
It's been two days since the incident. I didn't have the time to question him because I was Isabella, showing her how to fight in which she is leaning pretty quickly.
He spat at my shoes and chuckled. "I won't say a word," he chuckled evilly.
I sighed, lowering my head while shaking it. "That wasn't the answer I wanted to hear," I mumbled and snapped my head up at him.
"You see I never liked getting my hands dirty with people who aren't worth my time but with you, with you I want to take my time because who knows I might get something sweet out of it," I grin at him.
He gulped nervously. "I still won't talk," he tilted his head to the side and smirked.
I chuckled deeply while standing up. I didn't utter one word to him while I walked around him and grabbed the little table with my knives on it.
I brought it in front of him to show him what is waiting for him if he doesn't talk. "Care to talk now?" I asked one last him.
He shook his head. Wrong answer.
I grabbed my smallest knife and let it slide onto my fingers while I watched him. He looked terrified.
''One last chance,'' I mumbled and brought my knife to his face, letting it slowly slide down his face. He was watching the knife while breathing heavily.
''You don't scare me,'' he said with a shaky voice. I smirked at him and put pressure onto his skin with my knife, letting the tip dig into his skin.
He let out a painful scream while I chuckled deeply. ''Let's try again,'' I placed down the knife onto the table and leaned back into my chair with crossed arms.
He was hissing in pain with a lowered head while I was staring at him. I sighed when I noticed he wasn't going to talk. So, I grabbed a bigger knife.
I glanced down at him one last time and saw he was begging with his eyes no to do it. Without a warning, I ramped the knife into his thigh. He screamed out in pain while tears ran down his face.
I slowly turned the knife into his thigh and he screamed even louder. ''Please stop!'' he cried out. I chuckled and slowly pushed the knife down.
''I will talk just please stop,'' I stopped and smirked.
I leaned back into my chair while the knife was still in his leg. ''Good,''
''For who are you working with?'' I asked and waited for his answer.
He hesitated first but then sighed. ''Sila Korojiow,'' my jaw clenched. ''Why were you in my apartment?'' I asked next without looking at him.
''Sila wants your girl. He said he wants to take her from you like your family took his father from him,'' he said with a shaky voice. I stayed quiet and let him explain.
''He's working with the Cartels and took over everything where his father left off,'' he added and stopped talking right after.
''Do you know what he promised the Cartels?'' I asked monotonously. He chuckled. ''He promised us freedom and power,'' he answered with a smirk.
''But I knew that that was not true. I knew he would kill us all after he got what he wanted,'' he explained while I furrowed my brows. ''Then why are you working for him when you know you are going to die?'' I asked angrily.
''Because I don't have anything to live for,''
''I lost everything because of the Mexican Cartel that's why I started working against your family. I didn't want to work with the people who killed my family,'' he chuckled while shaking his head and lowering it.
''You know what the funniest part about this is? That I thought there is still hope for everyone. That we will stop fighting each other and live in peace but then I remembered that we are in the Mafia and the is no such thing as peace,'' he tilted his head to the side and stared behind me.
He scoffed and took and deep breath after. ''Go ahead and kill me now,'' he said with a blank stare at me. I sighed and stood up.
''I'm not going to apologize to you for what my Cartel did to your family but what I can say to you is once I'm the Don, I'm going to change a lot of things. And peace will be the one thing,'' and with that, I walked out of the room.
''It doesn't matter if you change it! We are still going to remember. We are always going to remember!'' he chuckled after me.
''They are coming! And they will kill everyone that is in their way!'' he shouted after me while I closed the door of the cell.
❦
''Do you know his name?'' I asked Tristen who was sitting next to me in my office. ''Sergio Torres. He's a citizen of Mexico. He came to America nine years ago alone and moved to New York four years ago,'' he read off the paper in his hands.
''What else do we know about him?'' I asked and leaned my elbow onto the table.
''Not much except that he lost his family in Mexico. He said he lost them because of the Cartel but that wasn't the case. His parents died of a natural cause and his sister was killed in a gang war in Mexico City,'' he explained.
''He thinks that the Cartel is the reason for her death,'' I sighed and rubbed my face with my hands.
''He's definitely not the only one who thinks like that,'' I mumbled and Tristen hummed in agreement.
''Any news from my parents in Mexico?'' I asked. He nodded. ''They talked to the leaders of the Cartels. They tried to get them back but they just argued. The Cartel leaders weren't on the same page as your parents so they left, Some of them contacted them after a few days and told them that they are on their side and if they need any help that they are there to help them'' he explained.
''Good,'' I said and nodded. He looked at me when I lifted my head. ''What?'' I asked with furrowed brows.
''How are you?'' he asked.
I chuckled and shook my head with a smile. ''Why are you asking?''
''Because you seem tired,'' he answered. I leaned back into my chair and crossed my arms over my chest. ''I'm not,'' I lied.
I was damn tired.
Tired of all this shit.
The Mafia. The sleepless nights thinking about how and when I'm going to die. Tired of fighting for something that has no way out. Tired of people.
