Page 37 of Fortress of the King

I turn back to fuckface. “You messing with me? Keep in mind you have seven fingers left, two thumbs, and then we move on to toes.”

“I’m not..fucking...lying!” he cries, then curses some more as he snivels away like a little girl.

A knot forms in my stomach. This bastard deserves to die, and die he will, but I need to make sure he’s not just stitching up the first name he can think of to try and dig himself out of a hole. Not that it’ll matter, the hole’s too deep, and he’s already buried. Although it’s not likeI can dig him up and question him again should this information not be accurate.

I’ve done this enough times to know that pricks like this are slippery, though I do think he’s telling the truth. That cocksucker Mendes has always been a little too clean-cut for my liking. It’s always the quiet ones. The ones who kiss newborn babies before election day and visit old people’s homes. He won’t be doing that for too much longer.

“You better not be, because I know all about you, you low-life piece of shit. Birdie told me you like them young yourself, that shit doesn’t fly on my streets.” I twirl my blade around. I want him to suffer, but I don’t want to touch his stinking dick, lucky for him.

“Mendes has been ordering girls for years… he likes them young...nothing above fifteen...but I was just the middleman...I didn’t have anything to do with...giving him the girls. I was just the messenger.”

It sickens me how he’s trying to worm his way out of this. “Just the messenger? You pimped the girls out to him, sold them... innocent, underage girls who were easy pickings because they were poor or from broken homes or on the streets.…you think that makes you some kind of fucking hero?”

The rage boils again, and I know I don’t want to hear any more.

“It makes you scum, you motherfucker. And I clean up the scum in this town.”

“I never…”

“Shut the fuck up!” I yell. I can’t take anymore, and his smell is starting to seep into my pores. I turn to Rocco. “Gonna bag him up for me?”

“With pleasure.” He grins.

“Wait...what?No!You can’t do this...you can’t...I gave you the na…” He doesn’t even get to finish. I’m done with this; we’ve wasted enough time.

I slice the blade up his throat and straight into the jugular, his blood splays all over the place as he gags and chokes on his own liquid. I stand back and watch as Rocco waves his fingers in a farewell gesture. It takes less than thirty seconds for him to stop flailing around, bleeding out, and only then does he slump back in the chair, his head falling back.

“Took your time about it,” Rocco complains.

I turn to him. “Fuck you. Now clean this shit up, and text me when it’s done. Call Santino to help if you need to.” He’s another one of my cousins who’s good at disposing of bodies.

“Got it, boss.”

I feel better. One less scumbag on the streets.

Next will be the raid on his turf, more accolades for the police when they bust the underage prostitution ring. It’s swings and roundabouts. They’ll owe me, and when I need to call on them, they won’t refuse. This is how my world works.

And it ismyworld. I direct everyone in it.

If there are any chinks in the armor around me, I fix them.

This is why I’m the fucking king.

I point to the two-way mirror, knowing Enzo is still watching the show. “Find out everything you can on Senator Mendes. I want a full report.”

I should have changed my fucking suit.

---