King of the Don's

thirty seven

Vaughn

"Kill that motherfucker slowly." Dr. Kreps told me, and I nodded my head, not saying anything in return. I walked my unconscious wife out of the pool house and back into the main house, and when I got outside of our bedroom door, I stared down at my little lamb, sadness like I'd never felt before lumped in my throat.

"It shouldn't have been like this, our wedding night," I whispered down to my sweet girl, "It should've been me, my little wife." I said the words, even though I knew she wasn't able to hear them. 

It made me feel better to talk to her like she was consciously awake with me, and I kept talking to her as I opened our bedroom door, and laid her down on the bed. I only stopped when I removed her hearing aid from her ear. I took a few minutes to make sure she was comfortable, removing her shoes and jewelry, before placing blankets and pillows around her. Then I sat with her for a few minutes to make sure she wouldn't wake up. And when I was completely ready, I knew where I needed to go. 

So when I shut the bedroom door behind me, I was fucking livid. Never in my thirty four years of living had I ever been as mad as I was at this moment. 

So I took my time walking down to the basement. I still had my wife's blood on my hands and shirt, but I didn't want to wash them off, not yet. I wanted Oliver Mason to see the blood. I needed him to know exactly why I was down here.

When I reached the bottom floor, Oliver Mason was already tied down to the metal chair. His chunky fingers were turned red and swollen from zip ties that I could tell were placed too tight. His shoulder obviously looked dislocated, and his face was several different colors, with blood dripping out of each nostril.

I knew my sweet girl had grown on several people here, so it was no surprise the state he was in. But what was a surprise, was that he was still awake. They must've kept him conscious for me.

Miles was already positioned behind him, waiting on my direction, but I was going to do this a little different than I normally did. I pulled a chair over from the table, and sat down right in front of him, knee to knee.I leaned back for a moment, staring him down. I leaned forward and rested my forearms on my thighs, and looked right into his swollen eyes. "Was it worth it?"

He let out a breath almost like he wanted to chuckle, his pea sized brain obviously not comprehending the danger he was in.I smiled at him, "You think you could take my title, my wife, my life you fat, dumb fuck?" I asked, and he stayed silent, "You sexually assault my wife, betrayed me with the help of my underboss," I shook my head with a tsk, "Then, you attempt to kill me, but hurt my wife instead.

"And through all of that, you couldn't manage to do anything yourself, or finish the job right." I spit the words out, "I bet you feel like a fuckin' fool." I sneered.

I heard him mumble something under his breath, and at the same time Miles yanked his head back by what little hair he had left, "Speak up motherfucker."

He finally met my eyes, "The only fool here is Briar!" He spit out, and I stood to my full height, the metal chair scraping the floor behind me. "Don't you fuckin' say her name!"

"She was mine first!" He yelled back, finding his last minuscule amount of courage. "I didn't care that she was deaf, once I saw her in that restaurant she was mine!" He roared, "Then you stole her out from underneath of me, and I had no other option than to take her back! How could I let you disrespect me like that? She was mine!" He started coughing from the strain of raising his voice, and I sat back in the chair, a shit eating grin on my face. So that's it then? He thinks because he saw my little lamb first she was owed to him.

"You think you can defy me?" I asked with a sneer, "You work underneath me. You serve me. You do not give me orders. I tell, and you do. I tell you to suck my cock, you ask me how deep I want it. I fuck your wife, you say thank you."

He said nothing, and it pissed me off further.

"Fine." I relented, "I'll give you an example."

I looked up to Miles, "Cut his restraints."

Miles immediately removed his restraints, and pushed him out of the chair. He fell down to the cement with a humpf, before looking at me. I leaned back, "Stand up. Take off all of your clothing."

He didn't move quick enough, so I quickly corrected him "Do it now, or I remove them, and I will remove your skin along with it." I told him, and he began taking off every last article of clothing. I watched him intently as I pulled a cigar out of my pocket, lighting it up with a match, "Good." I told him, talking around the cigar in my mouth. As soon as he was butt ass naked, I inhaled the smoke, calming my nerves.

"Now get down on your hands and knees," I instructed him, "Crawl over here and beg me to lick the bottom of my shoe, and then thank me for it."

His eyes widened, and I could tell he was going to try and argue, "You still think you don't have to do as I say?" I asked, standing to my full height, which prompted him to start crying, "Please Don, I'm sorry!" He cried, "I'm sorry, I'll leave the country. I promise! I disrespected you and I'm sorry, please let me go!"

"So you do know how to beg." I hummed, "And yet you're still not doing what I asked of you." I turned my head toward the side, and at my words he began crawling on his hands and knees over to me, making the men around me chuckle outwardly.

Once he was directly in front of me, I could see the anger and humiliation raging in his eyes, so I raised an eyebrow, prompting him to open his mouth, "Please, sir, let me lick your shoe?" He asked in a guttural, angry tone, and I shook my head, "I think we can do better." I taunted him, then looked up at the men surrounding us, "What do you think boys, can he do a better job of begging me?" I asked, prompting the men to laugh again.

Knox had a sadistic grin on his face, "Sure he can. I for one believe in him."

Mason took a deep breath, "Don, may I please lick your shoe?" He repeated, and I clicked my tongue, "Doesn't feel genuine enough," I told him as I shook my head, "If you really want to keep your freedom, and your tongue, make me believe you want to lick my shoe. It's that easy."

A newfound sense of survival instinct must've kicked in within his tiny brain, "Please Don, I'll do anything," He blubbered, "Please let me lick your shoe. Please, please I want nothing more." He continued, and at the same time I smelled the potent scent of ammonia, and I knew he pissed all over himself, and on my floor. 

"Okay." I sat back down, and motioned downward toward my shoes, "Lick."

He looked back up toward me, surprised at the fact that I was obviously making him follow through. I sat a little straighter, lifting my foot off the ground, "Lick. It."

As soon as he bent down with his tongue sticking out, I gave a powerful kick to his face, knocking him straight back. His mouth instantly began pouring blood, and I knew he was missing more than a few teeth. I stood up out of my seat, dropping down onto my haunches right in front of him, planting my cigar on the middle of his forehead causing him to scream, "I'm going to make you suffer for touching her," I swore to him, "And after hours and hours of torture, I'm going to kill you." I promised.

"And then when I've finally had enough, I'll have someone bury what little of you is left." I told him, "And after you're rotting away in an unmarked grave on some forgotten piece of my property, with not a single soul to mourn your pathetic death, every single fuckin' day for the rest of my life, I am going to go out there, whip out my dick piss all over your grave."

His face faltered at my words, and I began.

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