Page 102 of Villainous Kingpin
It didn’t take long for the waitress to come back, her steps tentative and her look hesitant.
“Would you like anything else to drink or eat?” she asked, her eyes flitting to the neighboring table. She knew damn well I didn’t want anything else, since I hadn’t touched a thing.
“You might want to stay in the kitchen for a while,” I told her, my fingers wrapping around the steak knife in my hand. To her credit, she didn’t flinch. She didn’t look back to the neighboring table. I saw an understanding flash in her eyes and she slowly turned around, then headed to the back of the restaurant.
The fucker at the other table never stopped eating. He had to be sure of himself, considering I was alone.
The second the waitress disappeared, I threw the knife, the swish sound of it slices through the air until it hit the bodyguard right in the throat. The clatter of the silverware and gurgling barely registered and before the other fucker could do a thing, I was already at his table and stabbed my fork right through his left hand.
“Not so fast, comrade,” I drawled, ignoring his yelp. “We’re going to talk first.”
“You fucking DiLustros are all crazy,” he hissed.
“Ahhh, so you know who I am,” I deadpanned. “Good, let’s cut to the chase then. Tell me where you have my woman.”
He snickered. “What woman?”
“Ah, see when you say it like that, I’m certain you have her.”
He shook his head. “Who’s your woman?” he whimpered.
“Wynter Star.” Honestly, we couldn’t confirm if that was her real name. I thought so since she always responded without delay. Besides, if she was hiding her identity, why pick her grandmother’s name? Everyone knew the name of the Pakhan’s daughter. Well, everyone except me until recently.
Lesson learned.
His eyes flashed with surprise and I realized my fucking mistake. I revealed my cards. He didn’t know I was looking for Wynter.
No matter, he wouldn’t get out of this alive.
He reached for the knife with his other hand and slashed it at me. My reflexes quick, I caught his wrist then twisted it backwards, the sound of crunching bones filling the air. I grabbed his throat and squeezed hard.
“Now, let’s play nice,” I growled. “Shall we?”
He spat at me, at least he attempted to. He was lousy at that too, because the spit only drooled down his face. Fucking moron.
“You’ll tell me what you know,” I declared darkly. “And I’ll make your death quick.”
“Never!” he hissed.
“They all say that in the beginning,” I said coldly, then smiled with all the cruelty swimming in my veins. There was no need to mask it anymore.
My father was a disgusting piece of shit with a sadistic streak, but in moments like this, it was welcomed. I let it taint my veins and take over.
His left hand still sported a fork stabbed in it and I reached for my gun, then shot him twice. One in the left hand and one in the right.
His eyes bulged and he yelped like a baby.
“There we go,” I purred. “Both of your hands are disabled. Now talk.” Blood pooled on the table, mixing with his disgusting dinner. “You can take your time,” I told him, smirking. “I have nowhere else to be.”
Well, except Philly but that was a different kind of torture. The self-inflicted kind.
“You’re just as crazy as your father,” he screamed, pain twisting his face. It made his mustache all wrong. Not that it was right to start with. “DiLustros are monsters. Filthy, sick monsters.”
My mouth curved into a cruel smile. “Then you know what I’m capable of. You really want to keep all your secrets?” I pulled out my Ka-Bar knife and cut through his crappy Russian tailored suit. Then I repeated the move, except this time I cut through his flesh. A long line from his shoulder to his wrist. “I’m still practicing my fileting skills.”
So I started slicing, separating his skin from his muscles and his high-pitched screams filled the room.
“I can do this for days,” I said with a twisted grin.
