Devil You Hate (The Diavolo Crime Family 1) - Page 6

I don’t need to tell them who I am. Every single criminal on the streets knows where the boundary lines to my domain are. The moment they shift, you better believe it’s learn quick or die fast.

I slide off the stool and step up to the first dickhead. He visibly quakes as I crouch in front of him. Not that he can see me through the sack. Though I’m sure they can feel the slight stir of air, feel death breathing down their necks.

“How about you, Big Shot? Want to tell me where the guns are?”

“Will you promise not to kill me?” His voice wobbles. I can imagine his bottom lip is trembling, his face a mask of pure horror. I wouldn’t even be surprised if he had tears running down his cheeks. The number of times I’ve seen grown men cry is astounding. There are never tears when they’re doing wrong, only when they’re caught in the devil’s clutches.

I glance back at my second-in-command, Soo. His shoulder-length black hair is already in a bun at the base of his neck, ready to make a move the moment I ask. I shake my head with a little grin. “This one wants to know if I’ll promise not to kill him.”

Soo just shrugs, matching my smile, knowing damn well that begging never works with me.

I turn my attention back to my captive. “Sure, I’ll promise not to kill you. Just tell me where the guns are.”

The man visibly sinks into himself, thinking I’ve given him a reprieve. Immediately, the other two dickheads speak up, talking over themselves to save their own skin.

“Fifth street…” one says, and the other finishes his sentence.

“Near the warehouses, across the railroad tracks.”

I almost laugh, it’s funny what people will do once they think there are no repercussions. What they don’t realize is that there is always a repercussion. For every good and bad thing you do in this world, there is a consequence, and this is there’s.

Without delay, I press the barrel of the gun to the middle guy’s temple and say, “Thank you.”

I pull the trigger, and he falls back onto the sheet of clear plastic, waiting for easy cleanup. The other two men immediately huddle into themselves. Why? I stare at them, genuinely trying to figure out how cowering will help keep them alive. Their fear only feeds my rage, and without even blinking, I pull the trigger again and then hand my weapon, barrel first, to Soo.

As he takes the hot metal in his hand like it’s nothing, he says, “It’s time.”

I turn toward the SUV idling nearby. The sound of the gunshot behind me causes the sides of my lips to tip up into a sinister grin.

Never make a deal with the devil.

He always wins in the end.

I climb into the car, and Soo takes the driver’s side. Already, my men are gathering the plastic, rolling up the dead bodies for easy disposal. There are very few people on my payroll. But every single one of them I trust implicitly.

Every bond I make is forged in blood. Nothing less will do to ensure my men stay loyal. Paying them well and giving them a cut of my product doesn’t hurt either. The gangster’s retirement plan, they call it.

As if any of us will make it to retirement age. That’s laughable. It doesn’t matter, though. I don’t care if I die as long as I finish my plans first. Death is inevitable; it will catch you in the long run and even more so in this job. I’ve come to terms with that, and when my time comes, I will greet death with open arms.

We ride through the city, and the closer to my destination we get, the higher the buzz under my skin climbs.

Today begins the end of it all.

Soo glances at me, his hands clenched so tight around the steering wheel his knuckles are white. “Are you ready for this?”

Of all the people in my life, only he and my brother could question me without earning a bullet to the temple.

“Do I not look ready?” I counter, staring straight out the windshield.

The familiar upscale neighborhood is where one of the worst crime families in the world hides out. They pretend to stay beneath the radar, but everyone knows the darkness that circles them. There is no hiding evil. It’s best to wear it like a badge of honor.

Soo doesn’t comment on what I look like, so we lapse into silence. The side-gate for a large mansion stretches out in front of us. Two figures dressed in black, one carrying a small form over their shoulder, rush down the driveway. The prospect of getting revenge gives me an all-new excitement; not even the thrill of murdering my enemies gives me this kind of high.

Tags: J.L. Beck The Diavolo Crime Family Erotic
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