Someone In The Dark

SITD 23

Stefan Boraggio's home was magnificent. A mansion that rivaled any Michael had seen in the last hundred years. Flood lights illuminated the grand entrance and circular drive. It was close to midnight when he crept along in the shadows, bouncing over the gate, and entering through a third story window. The security was surprisingly minimal. He expected dozens of guards to watch the gates and Stefan's valuables. But only a handful littered about the house and a couple by the front gates.

It was then that Michael realized Stefan never suspected an attack. It was inconceivable to him. Arrogant bastard. He thought he was untouchable. Michael would make sure he knew that was no longer the truth.

A deviant smile lit up his handsome features when he realized all of the Boraggio family was in attendance. Perfect. One visit would accomplish all of his needs. The plan was simple. The Reaper would die and Stefan would bargain for the lives of his sons, which Michael would grudgingly accept in return for certain assurances, and financial compensation.

He found the study easily, locating it by the murmuring older heart of Stefan. His years were numbered. The man was not invincible and fate had already stepped in.

"Good evening," he greeted Stefan, who looked up fast, completely startled.

He recovered quickly. "What the hell are you doing in my house?"

He quickly hit a button underneath his desk. Good. Reinforcements would soon arrive. Preferably his useless sons.

"A social visit." Michael smiled coldly. "I grant you with my presence."

Stefan sat back in his chair, returning the smile with a flick of his wrist. "Be gone. I am in no mood for games."

The gall to think he could dismiss him so easily. Michael laughed, sensing the shiver Stefan tried to hide. He was afraid. The mighty Boraggio legend. He almost laughed again in glee.

Two guards rushed into the room. Michael jumped up, banged the two of their heads together, turning back to Stefan as they fell to the carpet. Slowly Michael sat back down, across from his prey, and leaned back in the chair.

"As I said, this is a social visit. I believe you owe me a drink."

Stefan rose and lifted a brandy decanter, filling a glass half full. He handed the glass to Michael before pouring another one and sitting back at his desk. He downed his drink, watching Michael with wary eyes.

Michael took a sip of the brandy. "Ah, quite good."

The two sons entered the study next. Michael turned in his chair and met both of their gazes. The compulsion was swift. No defense. "Stand over there." He pointed to a mahogany bookcase. They complied. He noted the guns and knives in their hands. "Drop your guns."

The two sons obeyed. "Raise your knives to your throats."

They obeyed again. "Touch the blades close enough that you draw blood." The coppery metallic scent filled the air as droplets of blood appeared on their necks.

"Stop!" Stefan cried. "None will harm you here. I swear it!"

Michael turned back to him, leaning back in the chair with his drink. "Yes, I know."

"You have my attention, sir. Whatever wrong I have done to you, I will fix it. Tell me how," Stefan begged, his heart thumping wild and erratically.

"You're very existence sickens me." He took a sip of brandy. "But that is not why I have come."

Stefan sat down in his chair with a thud, glancing back and forth between his sons and Michael.

"You harmed someone that belongs to me," he lowered his voice, pausing for dramatic effect.