Page 66 of Gangster's Empire: Leeza & Havel

Sitting back in his chair, Havel stared unseeing, thinking over what he’d learned. If anything, it made him love Leeza even more. Like guilt, Havel wasn’t entirely sure he could feel love, but if the feelings of obsession, need and desire that he felt for Leeza meant love, then he was helplessly caught by his thorny rose.

He intended to use the information he’d gleaned to ensure Leeza’s continued protection, both mentally and physically. She’d spent too many years suffering and he was going to change that.

The information in the file could be split into three distinct sections, though the sessions were a mix of every part of her life. She spoke a lot about her childhood, tried to make it sound like a happy time, but her loneliness and desire for acceptance leaked through her words. The therapist had made notes about Leeza’s isolation as a child.

The second thing Havel took from her file was her lack of awareness of what her husband was truly like. She’d lived with the man for eight years without paying any attention to him. The thought made Havel smirk even as he shook his head at her naivete. Adam had been born to the Bratva’s inner circle and she’d written him off as a harmless creep.

Even as Adam had beaten and raped her, locked her in closets and left her in the dark, she’d still thought of him as gutless and ineffectual. Havel had to admire her persistence in disrespecting her husband even as it left her vulnerable to Adam’s predatory nature.

Finally, the third thing Havel gleaned from her file was her complete and utter heartbreak over her breakup with him. It was what prompted her mother to send her to a therapist. Her therapist noted that Leeza had struggled with suicidal ideation shortly after her wedding. The word suicide was like a blow to Havel’s chest.

She’d wanted to die… because she couldn’t be with him.

And he’d been too angry at the time, too blindsided by what he’d seen as her betrayal to see her despair. Fuck, he was a selfish guy. Selfish back then and even now, because he couldn’t feel entirely regretful at her depth of despair over losing him.

What the file didn’t give him was any clue to where her ex-husband might be. He’d hoped it would reveal something, but Adam was one of her least favourite subjects to talk about in therapy and only showed up a few times in the therapist’s notes, usually after he forced Leeza into his bed.

It made Havel’s blood boil to read the details of how the man would beat her, call her names, degrade her, then use drugs to ensure he could spend hours raping her.

Leeza never fought back, so she hadn’t seen it as rape, but her therapist, bless the woman, made Leeza see that Adam was abusing her.

Havel had known her marriage was fucked up, but he hadn’t known the extent. Not until now. A cold rage that ignited into an inferno took hold of him. In his fury, Havel imagined the myriad ways in which he would make Adam pay for every second of misery he put Leeza through.

Eight years in Havel’s custody sounded like good penance. Day in, day out. Fifty-two weeks. Twelve months. Eight years. A penance for all the years Adam tortured Leeza. Then maybe, just maybe, he's put the motherfucker down. Let him die like a dog.

Opening his laptop, Havel started searching the dark web. He spent the next few hours researching how to remove body parts from a person while keeping them alive. He would do it to avenge Leeza, but there was some poetic justice for Adam’s other victims as well.

* * *

Adam sat on the cold cement floor with his legs tucked under him and his arms wrapped around her waist. Her mottled hands were loose at her sides, but then, mother had never really been one to show her affection unless she was beating a lesson into him.

He stroked her knee, now misshapen from the hammer he’d used to fix it. It had to be perfect because everything about her was perfect. Only it wasn’t perfect, and she wasn’t perfect.

Despair threatened to overwhelm him.

She wasn’t mother. She was a headless corpse.

He’d thought sending the head to Leeza would make him feel better, would help keep the connection between his wife and himself strong, but it only made him feel worse. He hadn’t gotten to see her face when she opened the box. Did she understand why he sent it? Did she read the card?

He’d watched the building, hoping to catch a glimpse of her after the package was delivered, but she was kept hidden from him for a whole day and night, only emerging the next morning. He couldn’t see her though, other than a quick glimpse of her shiny dark head as she was quickly ushered from the building to the vehicle by her bodyguards.

Frustration gave way to anger and he punched the wall of the empty office he’d rented across the street from Zmatek.

Fuck. Stupid!

He glanced down at his bruised fist. A scrape on the knuckle welled with blood.

He’d looked quickly away and yanked his pocket kerchief out, wrapping it around his hand and using his teeth to tie it off. He’d taken several deep breaths until the dizziness and nausea passed.

His one weakness.

After, he’d made his way back to his temporary home to tell his mother of his disappointment. As always, she’d listened mutely, not offering even a shred of solace. He was used to her silent treatment though and didn’t mind. She would advise him when she was ready.

Pushing himself off the floor, he got shakily to feet.

There was no help for it. Without a head, she wasn’t his mother anymore. He should’ve cut off a hand or a foot and sent it to Leeza, but he’d gone for the grand gesture. Now he would have to find someone new to take mother’s place.

He fired the building’s furnace and stoked the flames until they were hot enough to turn bone to ash, then he fed the body of the prostitute into it. He closed the door and set about preparing his dungeon space for his next guest.

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