[Under editing]
(Wrote this in my cringe writer era. Forgive me people)
The Italian mafia killed Vegas's parents when he was barely 15. His uncle managed to save him and his brother from the rival mafia and took them under his care.
Pete is an orph...
The hand on Pete's neck disappeared when his breathing came back to a normal speed. His vision was a little hazy with tears but after blinking a couple of times he saw the man who calmed him down.
He was strikingly attractive. The man was tall and lean but ripped with muscles, judging by his exposed strong looking forearms. His cheekbones and jawline was prominent. His nose looked almost as perfect as the nose of Michelangelo's statue, David. His eyes were slanted and sharp. His black hair was styled backwards neatly exposing his forehead.
He was wearing a full sleeve red silk shirt and black pants . The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His shirt was neatly tucked into his pants. He was also wearing a pair of expensive looking black dress shoes. The man looked too good to be here, in this filthy place. He gave Pete a tiny smirk and bent down to his eye level.
"Well well well...finally got to meet you" The man said. His tone gave Pete chills .
"W-why am I here?" Pete for the first time uttered a sentence since he came here.
"You and I, we both know the answer of that question" The man smiled broadly. It was almost creepy the way he was smiling without any emotion. Pete was confused. What did this guy mean?
"What ?" Pete asked only for his question to be ignored.
The man straightened himself and stood infront of Pete. Looking down at him, the man said, "We'll have less problems if you tell us where and when the next drug exportation for the Italians will take place"
There was a thick layer of silence in the room as Pete was trying to process the things he heard from the other. What drugs ? What exportation? His mind couldn't comprehend anything.
"What d-drug ? Who are you people? I don't know what you are talking about!" Pete exclaimed through stutters.
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Vegas stared at the petite male with unimpressed eyes. He tilted his head to the side while staring into Pete's soul. The smaller looked lost and scared.
Vegas bend down once again and said, "I'm gonna ask this one more time, where will the Italian mafia meet for their next drug exportation and when ?"
"If you answer honestly, your suffering will be way less. So make your decision wisely" Vegas said glaring down at the other.
Pete was at the verge of breaking down. He just wanted to go home after his tiring shift. But he ended up being here tied to a chair ; he himself doesn't know why ?
"I really don't have any idea what you want to know. P-please let me go.." Pete pleaded with a wavering voice .
Vegas sighed rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. Seems like he has to get the answer the hard way huh ? Ok so be it.
"Hm...very well. You brought this upon yourself" Vegas gave a sadistic smile as he looked at the guards standing in the room.
"Boys...make him talk"
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Pete doesn't get paid enough to deal with this type of shit :,-)
