Pierce Lockland's reputation as a playboy and all around ladies man is hard earned. With a massive muscular build and a panty-dropping smile, Pierce looks more like a male model than a former Marine sniper, but that doesn't make him any less lethal...
Estrada exploded into his study with his most trusted associates trailing behind him like dogs with their tails between their legs.
"Why the fuck is this asshole still alive?" Diego seethed, snatching a remote from the table and aiming it at a large projector.
Surveillance footage of Pierce's front door flooded the screen and illuminated the room.
Leaning forward onto his knuckles at his desk, Estrada watched the screen, waiting for Pierce to enter the view of the camera.
"And whoever is responsible for the shitty placement of this camera needs his teeth kicked in," he snarled.
"We paid off a florist, he wasn't exactly experienced," Ramirez said weakly.
Pierce came in to view on the feed, opening his front door and locking it behind him, putting himself in perfect view of the hidden camera across the hall. Estrada paused the video and glared up at the screen as if he were looking at the devil himself.
"I gave you one job, Damion. So explain to me why this fucker still has air in his lungs." Estrada growled, pointing at the screen and glaring maliciously at Damion.
"I'm working on it." Damion assured him.
"Working on it? What the hell do you mean you're working on it? This isn't some bullshit side gig that I asked you to do in your spare time. This is priority. You saw what he did to Mario! So what the fuck are you waiting for?" Estrada screamed across the room.
"I'm waiting for the right time." Damion answered.
Estrada gave Damion a sadistic grin before he pulled a gun from the holster on his side, leveling it with Damion's chest.
"Well maybe you need a little motivation." he sneered, delighting in Damion's fearful expression.
"You either put a bullet between his eyes or I'll put one between yours."
Damion froze and lifted his hands in a surrender pose, taking slow careful steps as he attempted to reason with Estrada.
"Hear me out." Damion said slowly.
"A bullet in his skull is quick and painless... it's merciful. He killed Mario...your own flesh and blood. He doesn't deserve mercy. He deserves to suffer."
"I'm listening." Estrada said in a low voice with his gun still trained on Damion's chest.
"Let me plan out the logistics so we can hit him where it hurts. Not just death, but an eye for an eye. It will take some time, but it will be worth it."
Estrada narrowed his eyes, but ultimately lowered his gun and set it on the desk as a gesture of acceptance.
"So until then he gets to live his life without consequence as if Mario never existed?" Estrada growled, seeking instant gratification of his bloodlust.
"I'll send him a message to let him know we're still watching - that we haven't forgotten."
Nodding in agreement, Estrada lifted his eyes back to Pierce's face on the screen. His eyes were hollow and lifeless, void of all emotion other than hatred as he glared at the image.
"I want to break him in every way that a man can be broken before I drain the life from his body."
"I can make that happen, just give me a little time and we will make sure this fucker suffers a fate worse than death."
Estrada's lips curled into a sickening grin.
I'm coming for you Pierce Lockland.
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