fifty two

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ATHENAS POV.

I was led down a dimly lighted hallway.

Turns out the warehouse has a basement.

The sound of our foot steps echoed off the walls and with every step, the sound of muffled screams, begs, and pleas got louder.

I ignored them.

These people are down here for a reason.

Stopping at one of the many doors, I noticed the silver plaque that was screwed in the middle, it read '42'.  Knox opened the door and gestured for me to go in, I sent him a skeptic look.

Stepping through the doorframe, I observed the room. In the middle of it all was a man hanging by his arms from the chains that were secured around his wrist, his feet were also chained in place. How he looked was all but appealing. His face seemed almost unrecognizable, his body was bruised and filled with cuts and there was blood seeping down slowly from his wounds, recovering spots of already dried blood.

I should've prepared myself before walking in here.

The last time I seen someone in this kind of state was about 2 maybe 2 and a half years ago. It should be concerning how used to this I am.

Taking my eyes off of the guy, I looked at the concrete walls that made up the room. They were covered with random splotches of dry blood and scratches, in the far corner was a table full of weapons.

Torture tools.. fun.

In the other corner stood Demitri, Gianni, and the twins. Dad was standing in front of the guy with heavily bruised knuckles, and spots of blood littering his white button up.

The Italian Don at his finest.

I know this man currently is not in the mindset of my father, right know he's who he was trained to be.

A cold blooded killer.

and as cliche as it may sound, The boss of all bosses.

Any normal person would be terrified in this mans presence. Fortunately for us, we're not normal people.

Everyone in this room, excluding the twins, has blood on their hands and isn't fazed by it.

For the most part anyway.


I exhaled and morphed my face into a blank expression. You show a backstabbing bitch any type of emotion they'll catch on to it.

I'll make sure he'll never have that satisfaction.


"You called for me?" I stood at least five steps away from the now closed door, slightly wishing I could go back in the hallway so I don't have the overbearing sent of metal up my nostrils

Everyone looked over to me, including the chained up guy who happened to smile when he saw my face.

He winced in pain as he went to speak and his voice was scratchy as he did so. "als het niet de kleine Italiaanse prinses is, ik moet zeggen dat je mooi ouder bent geworden." (if it's not the little Italian princess, I have to say you've aged nicely)

Dutch.

His eyes racked up and down my figure and he licked his cracked lips, I held back a shiver in disgust.

Now I know why they called me down here.. The dumb ass is speaking different languages.

He's thriving off the fact that no one knows what he's saying.


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