Mikhail

31

Okay, I know I said I wouldn't give warnings in chapters but well...
⚠️ This chapter contains graphic descriptions of murder and torture.

*****

"You're sick. He trusted you so much, you psycho." The Godfather spat at me.

"Now look who's telling that to who." I smiled, knowing it was nothing but evil.

Antagonism was thriving though my veins. The murder of my parents s was playing in front of me like a movie, fortifying my hate for The Godfather even more.

"You'd better let me go or else..."

"Or else what?" I demanded gruffly, then said calmly. "I think we both know who's calling the shots around here so you better humble your self Godfather."

"Who are you? Why did you pretend to be working for me? What the fuck do you want?"

I began pacing around him. "I'm here to send you to hell."

"You wouldn't dare."

That made me chuckle, a chuckle filled with pure evil and a passion for revenge. "Oh how I love it when people challenge me. It only grants me the opportunity to show how brutal I can be."

"Who is paying you?" His voice sounded more desperate than demanding.

"Now that's the interesting part. " Feeling for the back pocket of my pants, I brought out a small pocket knife and fisted it. "Nobody's paying me."

"You pretended to be working for Alacran just to gain access to me. Somebody had to have sent you."

Leaning down, I placed both hands on his chair and glared into his terrified eyes. "No one is paying me, but I take out bad guys. You've been on my target list for years, because you deserve to die. You deserve to die for every throat you've slit. Every stomach you've stabbed. Every head you've shot."

I was going to put an end to the reign of terror and adoration he'd held over the people of this town for so long. All those years of murders and making people look over their shoulders.

"Is there a particular reason why you're doing this?" He snapped.

"Oh yes, there is." I answered. "Fiteen years ago, you had my parents murdered. My dad was a cop, and he threatened to expose you to the whole city the man you truly are."

He stayed silent, glaring at me. I continued circling him. "Of course, you've had so many people killed that you won't remember. Just as you probably won't remember three of the men you sent to kill him."

I paused in front of him. "Let me try to refresh your memory. Six years ago, one of your men turned up in town beaten to death. A week later, another was found, killed the same way. That was me. Fortunately for the third person, he was already dead and so I didn't get the chance to exact my revenge on him."

"However, you'll probably remember the fourth person. Your former right hand man. Found in a warehouse with five knife wounds on his lifeless body with his eyes taken out.

If The Godfather looked afraid before, now he looked terrified.

"Th... That was you?"

"Yes."

"What do you want in exchange to let me go? You. . . you can be my right hand man. You can. . . even be my partner. Enjoy all the privileges I do."

He smiled as if he was expecting me to accept his offer.

I smiled cynically. "Can't say I'm surprised by that offer you're making. How can you even expect me to be working with the man who had my parents killed?"