Page 6 of Villainous
The air is filled with him coughing and choking on the water as he tries to wiggle his limbs.
I stop pouring to allow him to catch his breath, and I set the jug onto the concrete floor.
“I’m sorry, boss,” he says, breathless.
I don’t need his sorry. His words don’t do jack shit to me but make my blood boil.
It’s really hard to find men to work in this line of work because they can’t control themselves. So, I always end up killing a few of them. They think because I give them control over the women’s lives, they can abuse it.
I kick him in the face.
“Yeah, you’re sorry. I gave you strict orders to keep your dick in your pants, but you can’t.”
“It won’t happen again,” Baron says.
I never give out second chances because people will start to respect me less. I’m done with him, and I have better shit to do with my time.
“Of course you won’t.” I nod to Manos, letting him know what to do with Baron.
“Grab him and put him in the fire,” Manos orders the soldiers dressed in dark clothing.
“Wait, I have a wife, and I have two boys. They need me. My wife is sick!”
Manos yanks the lid off the fire pit, and two of the soldiers thrust the board into the burning flames. Baron tries to wiggle his way out of the restraints.
It’s fascinating to watch the human body burn, the way it cooks like a fresh turkey or ham until it’s full of ashes.
“Crank the fire up,” Manos orders.
One of the soldiers twists the knob on the midnight black wall, and Baron screams as his whole body is engulfed by flames and his flesh melts from his bones.
The first time I killed someone, I was thirteen years old. It was Polina’s bodyguard. I stabbed him in the throat with a butcher knife and watched the bright blood leak down his face. The screams he let out made my dick hard, and that’s when I became fixated on murder. Not the act itself but watching the life leave his eyes. It sent me into a rage, and seeing blood made me horny like a dog. When I asked my twin brother if it happened to him, he told me no, and that’s when I knew I was fucked up in the head.
I need to get back to my office. Before I had to deal with this bullshit, I was working with a client, Jacob, who is interested in buying merchandise. Manos and I step onto the elevator, and he leans against the silver rails with his hands in the pockets of his dark dress pants. He’s built like a sumo wrestler and probably can rip me into two. His skin is as pale as a sheet of paper, and his inky hair is combed to the side.
He rolls his gray eyes. “I’m glad the bastard is dead. I never liked him.”
This is his way of trying to make conversation.
Manos has been working as one of my captains for a few years, and he’s starting to grow on me. I never had a relationship with him as a child. My father, Draco, wasn’t close to his eldest brother, and I’ve never been a people person. I tolerate them because I have to, especially in my line of business. He’s young and still has a lot to learn about his role as a capo. He’s a good apple and always does his work, but sometimes I want to strangle his neck because he talks entirely too fucking much for my liking.
When the elevator stops, I step out and fix my silver tie. I place my hands on the knob of my study, then march to my glass desk.
Manos leans against the eggshell wall, and two other soldiers stand on each side of the door.
Jacob perches across from me with his Italian loafers planted on the floor. He is the governor of New York and used to be a former judge. Sometimes people who work for the government can be more corrupt than the mafia. They hide behind it with their wealth and image. I see more politicians coming in and out of here than I see other upper-middle-class men. The government always wants to lock us up for what their employees buy. But it doesn’t matter. I keep records and pictures of each and every client so if we go down, they go down with us.
“Sorry about the inconvenience. I had a business matter to deal with,” I say to Jacob.
He thrusts his fat fingers through his salt-and-pepper hair. “No need to apologize. As a businessman, I understand.”
Jacob has been our client for years now and a loyal customer.
“Where were we?” His tone is flat.
I snatch a cigarette from behind my ear, stick it between my lips, light it, and blow smoke from the corner of my mouth.
“You wanted to see the merchandise before you make a purchase.”
