Attraction, desire, and sinfully beautiful, Mika Santana is a devil with the face of an angel. Despite her tragic past, she's never given up her ruthless pursuits for success and vengeance which leaves little to no room for matters of the heart. But...
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Leadership.
The ability of an individual or a group of individuals to influence and instruct followers or other members of an organization. All my life, I've been a follower. I was never a person who spoke up in classes. No, I stayed on the sidelines, observing the world spin on its axis without engaging with it.
People like my brother, Luka, and papa were born to be leaders.
They went after what they wanted with no remorse. Leaders don't wait for orders — they create them. They won't let a single individual question their leadership without putting them into place. If they cannot submit, they're cut from the group. But what if a leader can be sympathetic? Forgiving?
Is that where I come in?
Is this my chance to flip everything on its axis and be the leader with a legacy left once I'm gone?
Mateo ties the binds around the fucker's wrist, cutting the circulation from how tight it is. He screams into the rag in his mouth, fighting against the resistance on his body. The rest of his busy bee friends are on the floor, stained with bullet wounds in their skulls. I don't bother looking.
But I can't forget how haunted their dead eyes look.
It's horrifying, like waking up from a veritable nightmare.
"You can't steal from the Morterero familia and get the fuck away from it," Mateo screams, smashing his fist into his chin, sending him flying back to the ground.
Limon and Julian grab the fucker and stand him back up in the chair. A harsh breath leaves his nostrils as his horror-filled irises flutter over all of us. Julian rubs his hands together, flashing the slightest smirk as he gestures for Limon to give him the plastic bag. The fucker's eyes widen, halting in his movement as the silence grows eerie. Before the fucker had a chance to think, Julian stuffed his face in the bag and yanks on it, slashing his connection to oxygen.
"Do it!" Mateo orders, flashing his sinister eyes towards the dying man like he's hungry for his blood.
My throat clogs up.
Can I do this again? He was stealing from you. He thinks you're weak. Everyone thinks you're weak. Show them what the real Asiel Morterero is made of. I shake my head, silencing the voices. They can't control me. I have to learn how to conquer my demons. And become the man I want to be. The man that Mika deserves-- the man that can dominate the world without tainting the virtue.
With trembling hands, I unclip the safety clip on the gun and align the gun to his forehead. Mateo glides his tongue over his teeth as if he's feasting for this moment. He's a criminal, a sinner, a person that deserves this. My heart pumps against my chest, banging against every fragment of my body. There are no takebacks. I pull the trigger, watching the bullet strike his forehead.
Blood spatters on the bag, and his movements cease to exist as his head loops to the side. Julian forms a knot on the back of the plastic bag and grabs his gun, firing five shots for extra insurance.
