Low-key | ✓

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The cell looked pleasant. Well, as pleasant as it could get while holding an insane prisoner with a bleeding arm. Grey, Josh, Gavin and I were outside the holding cell. The walls were bare, white with only a gray colored door and a small window that the people outside could look through. Grey gave me a reassuring smile when I opened the door leading inside and glanced at the brunette.

"I expected more from you, Harris." She looked up at the mention of her name and gave me a scowl.

She was cuffed to a chair parallel to another one with an interrogation table in the middle. I sat down and took in the state she was in.

"I'd have to say, Chequita. You're good." I coplimented her and she looked down, silent.

I raised an eyebrow, "Why so quiet? Guilt got your tongue?"

She looked up with a glare, "Shut up, Ar-"

A slap echoed through the room as I cut her off.

"Don't call me that, Harris. You lost that right a long time ago." I spat.

Her eyes held sympathy for a moment and it brought rage to my veins.

I pulled out a white glock and pointed it at her, shrugging off the emotion I was feeling.

"Now cooperate, or else." I glared.

Her brown eyes met my grey ones. How badly I wanted to pull them out of their sockets for everything she did- to the boys, Corbyn, and me a long time ago.

She ducked her head and stayed silent. In spy language that meant two things- I surrender or I'm disrespecting you, bitch.

"I want answers, Chequita." I growled.

She remained silent.

I took out a bottle of Hydrogen peroxide from underneath the table and poured its contents on the knife wound on her arm, making her scream out loud, her face turning a deep shade of red.

I smirked in satisfaction, a menacing grin making it's way onto my face. I pulled out the bloody knife I used on her earlier and let the tip touch her nose as I leaned into her.

"It's either the easy way or the hard way, Harris."

She grunted and kept looking down. I growled and pulled her chin up.

"Hard way it is then."

-

Twenty four hours.

It took twenty four hours of screaming, torture, and blood- lot's of blood- to get answers out of Harris.

"A year ago, the bloodhound was asked by a mysterious person to kidnap the boys!" She said when I threw the sixteenth punch. Her lips were split, blood was oozing out, but I didn't care. I was in my element.

"We didn't agree to it, thinking that the amount they'd pay would be nothing compared to the money we may get from the boys directly if we kidnap them for ransom ourselves. That's why I'm in a relationship with Corbyn, to get through them easily."

After getting the answers I wanted, I told Grey to get rid of her. And he did. A single bullet was what it took to see the light fade from the cougar's eyes.

If the Bloodhound was just being used, then that meant one thing.
The boys are in deep shit.

Someone higher than the Bloodhound is dangerous. Although bankrupt, this mafia is one of the strongest in the Northern part of America. Or was. Their leaders are dead, strongest members too. In the Mafia, when a leader dies without appointing another leader to take his place, the mafia falls apart. So it's safe to that the Bloodhound is over.