C.R.I.M.S.O.N

A.N.G.E.R

Asher's POV:

I was livid. Fucking livid.

After watching her walk away. Knowing nothing other than she had a phenomenal body and a face i could stare at all day. I stormed into my office. It was above the club and restaurant, accessible through a back door in the club, and several flights of stairs.

I put the complicated pin into the lock system of my office, the door opened. It was empty - other than my large desk, 3 drawers on each side, all locked, and filled with files on clients, enemies and his mafia. And 2 small sofas.

I called Xavier, the most reliable hacker on my tech team.

"Yes boss." He addresses me.

"Xavier, to my office now."

"On my way Don." he responds.

In a matter of a few measly minutes. He enters my office. Laptop in hand. His long curls were braided into cornrows that descended backwards and tied in a low knot. He wore a blue, hoodie and black Evisu jeans and low white and blue jordan 1's. I did summon him during his break, so i can excuse his casual attire.

"Xavier, load the cctv up from 20 minutes ago i need you to get research on someone for me."

And so he does. I order him to zoom in on the scene between Miss feisty and the blonde russian guy. We discover that blondies actual name is Igor Semenov, clarifying that he was indeed russian. He was a worker for Ivanov. The russian mafia boss. He only worked with the transportation of drugs and russian whores in and out of the United States.

It seems his small trip to New york will have to be cut even shorter.
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After getting all the information we could on Igor,i told Xavier to zoom in on the girl. La mia Faccia della bambola. Her name was Charlie. Charlie Costa. Which came as a shock. Seeing as her father. Frankie Costa, was the man turning down my business deals.

They definitely had stubbornness in common.

Doing an identify check on her. We found all of her personal details. She was 5'5, spoke all Italian, English and French fluently. Not just a pretty face. But there was no record of her mother. She was 19, turning 20 on the 14th September. It was currently March. She worked part time with her father, and had an assistant managing job at Bennie's. It was a popular diner about 20 minutes from here.

As i delved further into her profile. Her address and phone details began to pop up. I saved the information in a private folder and sent it to my own private server.

Then a picture of her came up. She was just as good on screen, as i had seen her an hour ago. Her long brown hair, longer in these photos than it is now, suggesting she had had it cut. Her long eyelashes complimented her green eyes and fuck. Her freckles were a different fucking story. I could imagine myself looking down on her as she sucked my di-

Calm the fuck down Asher Gesù.

translation- jesus.

Her body was phenomenal. Pictures from her photo gallery appeared on the scene. Some more private than others. I snatched the laptop from Xavier and paused the progress development.

"You know her don?" Xavier chuckled in amusement at my reaction, attempting to hide what he had already obviously seen.

"You could say so." I deadpanned.

I glanced at the screen. It was nothing to the extravagance of being fully naked. But she had a particular fancy to lace. That she made sure to document in photos. Oh mio buon Dio, it was a sight for sore eyes.

translation- oh my good god.

I call Matteo and ask what chamber he's holding Igor in. I head to the cell, cell 4. Where i see Raf and Carter chaining him upside down to the cement pillar, adjacent to the cell door. The room was an irregular hexagonal shape.

"Igor Semenov." I state entering the room.

"That's such a pussy name." Enzo says from the corner of the room, making Carter pile over in giggles.

Fucking children.

"Drug and prostitute coordinator, working under Ivanov for the last 3 years. Isn't that right Igor." I address his name, kicking him in the gut.

"Ёбаная сука!" Igor grunts. "You'll be fucking dead by the time Artyom realises i wasn't there for shipment!"

"Shut up will you? Cazzo di inferno." I say, rolling my eyes at the pussy whimpering from 1 kick.

translation- fucking bitch.
- fucking hell.

"Igor let me get this into your stupido russian skull. You came to New York. Stepped into MY club! And had the balls to touch what's mine?!"

"What the fuck are you talking about? What did i touch that is yours? And i didn't even know this was your c-"

You touched La mia faccia da bambola.
His sentence is cut short by Rafael throwing a knife into his shin. I send him a harsh glare.

"Sorry boss, his voice is really annoying." He says.

I sigh and give my men the order to leave me with blondie.

I head over to the corner of the cell, a cupboard where all the utensils i could ask for were neatly organised. Smallest to largest. Minor damage and deadly. I grab 3 of my preferred knives from the layout and walk over to Igors hanging body.

I crouch down to meet his eye level. Playing with the knives between my fingers.

"Pussy!" Igor spits. Bastard really has a spitting problem.

I yank his head upright, keeping it at a weird angle since he is upside down. I pull open his moth and begin to cut at his gums, his yellow teeth dropping by the second. His howls fill the chamber and it's so satisfying, an abnormal smile makes it's way onto my face. His blood trickling down his forehead and into his eyes. He looked like a butchered pig.

"What was it you called me? A pussy?" I say with amusement lacing my words, "But...I wasn't the one who had to use force to take advantage of a woman? Was i Igor??"

I use my second knife to start cutting his trousers, i may have caught his leg a few times in the process but who gives a shit. He was going to die anyway.
Without another word, i began cutting away at his thighs.

"STOP! S-STOPP!!!" He begs.

I don't stop.

I think back to faccia della bambola and her bruised wrist - i never got around to thinking why she tried to deny what i clearly saw.
Making sure to keep note of that. I grab his shirt, ripping it open, buttons flying everywhere.

"Igor. Tell me, what are Semenov's plans against my mafia?"

"He-he. You're all gonn-na die!!!" He screams in agony. His face now, red with spilled blood and the pressure of blood rushing to his skull, "He will kill you! AND EVERYONE YOU LOVE YOU FUCKER!"

"The thing is Igor. A man like me is not capable of love. Ever."