Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 73655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
My hands fist at my sides before I nudge my head at the soldiers who await instruction. "Let's get him up on the pulley," I tell them while regarding the man who seems to know his time is up. "Oh, and take that cloth from his mouth, I'd like to hear his side of the story."
He's freed, dragged toward the metal cuffs that hang from the ceiling. Once he's bound tight, one of the men tugs the filthy material from Tommaso’s mouth.
"You're a fucking bastard! I will kill you!"
I laugh out loud at his curses. "Empty threats mean nothing to me, Mr. Cavallone," I tell him easily before pulling out my blade. My trusty weapon. My fingers fit perfectly around the handle. "Get him naked." Another order which is obeyed by my men. Once I'm happy with what I have before me, I step forward to start my most artistic kill yet.
Chapter 33
Enzo
"So," I start, "Tell me about the most recent job you hired a hitman to complete. Oh, and by the way, the man in question will be dead very fucking soon."
"Fuck you," he spits, anger and venom lacing his tone, but I don't even flinch. I've spent my life finding men like him, binding them to the chair, or hanging them from the fucking ceiling. And I've killed them all.
"I don't deal well with people who don't respect me," I inform him, stopping inches from where he's bound, hands above his head, ankles in thick metal cuffs that spread his legs just enough for me to slide a blade where he may not want it. But that would tarnish this beautiful weapon. "Mario, bring me the items," I request, keeping my voice neutral, calm. He doesn't know what he's about to experience.
Mario hands me the two items—a blow torch, and a pair of tongs.
"I think you are a man who would've been willing to save his own skin. So to speak," I continue talking to Tommaso as I flick on the torch. A soft hiss escapes the barrel along with a blue flame which hisses as it continues to burn.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he asks. His eyes widen when I lift my hand, the flame spitting at him inches from his face. Even though he tries to cower away, he can't. I lean in, bringing my sneer closer as I allow the blue to dance along his cheek. The scream that erupts from his mouth is like a symphony.
The stench of cooking flesh invades my nostrils, and all I can picture is my little dancer, lying in that bed, fearful for her future. I torch the left-side of Tommaso’s wrinkled face, from his eye which is nearly popping out of its socket, down to his chin. When I pull the torch away, I watch the bubbling of his skin.
"What you did to my fiancée, I didn't like it, Mr. Cavallone," I inform him coolly. Picking up the metal tongs, I slide the smooth part of it against the wound I've inflicted to cause as much agony as I can. And then, I grasp the melted flesh between the tips and tug harshly, ripping skin from muscle and bone.
Tommaso’s words are nothing more than babbles of a man who knows he's about to die. But I can't rush this because he needs to feel everything that I do to him. Mario injects him with a shot of adrenaline to keep him awake as his one eye flutters closed.
"I'm a very patient man, Mr. Cavallone." I set the tongs down and pick up my torch once more. This time, I crouch down before turning on the blue flame once more. It's such a beautiful color. A perfect hue which is so unassuming. It's dangerous, deadly, but it's also the color of a new day, a serene sky with the sun shimmering with promise. "Did you know that the true color of fire is actually blue?" I ask him before I continue my handiwork on his shins, until I see bone. Then, I move up to his thighs, getting impossibly close to the flaccid cock hanging at his crotch.
I rise just before his body gives up and he releases a stream of urine which splatters on the cold concrete below. Thankfully I step out of the way in time. I've become accustomed to victims doing that. Each time it happens, I'm not surprised. My first was enough of a lesson for me to watch for the signs.
"It seems you've had a little accident," I taunt, before I grab the tongs again, clipping them together to warn him of what's to come. When I thought about Luna on the way here, I knew I needed to make this man pay. But the need for vengeance has overtaken me more than ever before.