I sat behind my desk staring at the photo of the bastard that took my mother and sister from me. It's been fifteen years since that day and I had made a vow to them both that I would find him and kill him. My father had been the first to find him, and had gone after him but his plan had backfired and he was killed. For years I've spent searching high and low for him only for the asshole to slip through my fingers until now,that is. He was tied to a chair with a battered face and dried blood. He was unconscious in the photo seeing as it had been taken a hour after he was caught.
Nico and I had just arrived from his college—since I had gone to pick him—when Jonah joined us and whisper in my ear.
"Cordelia and James found him,"
His words still ran in my ear even after four hours.
"We'll finish our talk later but now I need to take care of something," I had said to Nico before pulling my phone out of my pocket and walking away and dialing Cordelia's number.
"Boss," she had greeted on the first ring
"Jonah told me you found him," I replied in a greeting and she hummed
"Yes, I sent an envelope with his photo and it should be on your desk in your office. James and Jace are currently with him at the moment giving him a few punches here and there, though," which explained why the bastard was bruised and had dried blood on his once white button up shirt.
"We should be arriving back at the compound within the next five hours, which will be enough time for you to prepare"
As soon as I had gotten to my office as I opened the envelope that had been sitting on my desk and opened it before pulling out the photo of the bastard. Clenching my jaw, I dropped the photo and envelope back on the desk and walked out of the office and down to the torture chamber in the basement.
It had taken me less than two hours to fully prepare the room to my liking before returning to my office where I was currently sitting at with the photo of him out.
A knock on my door made me look up to see Cordelia—one of the few females in the gang who's a master at sword fight and also one of my childhood friends—poked her head in. She was a beautiful woman with mocha colored skin with soft brown eyes. Even though she was short, she was a force to be reckoned with as she's one of the strongest girls in the gang. She's taken down most of my guys every time they train and it's a sight to see.
"I figured you'd be here,"she said, her Persian accent coming out strong even though she hasn't been to Iran in years. She was born and raised in Iran until she was five years old before her family relocated in New York and my father took her and her parents in, that's how we met.
"What time is it?" I asked pushing from my desk and standing up and she raised a brow but looked down at her watch.
"Quarter to one," she answered and I nodded, "James and Jace have him tied up and ready,"
"How did you find him?" I asked as we made our way down the hall towards the room where he was waiting.
"As you know, James and I had been following him since he left the gang two years ago," she replied and I nodded.
Five months ago, Cordelia and James, another sword master like Cordelia and also her husband, had made the decision in tracking John—the man that was tied up and beaten in the torture room—after he left the gang when I confronted him for stealing half a million dollars worth of weapons and drugs as well as conspiring with a rival gang. He left a letter saying that he was leaving and that we'd never find him but the bastard was stupid enough to believe that he could walk away and not be found.
"The first few months were spent with James and I asking around for him until we got a lead as to where he was and we learned that he had fled from New York and gone to Connecticut before flying out of the country to San Juan, Puerto Rico where he was living with Amelia and her two children." She said making me raise a brow at the name, "Yes the very same one," she stated noticing my expression, "She was the one who contacted us when she learned that Jamie and I were in Puerto Rico searching for John."
She stated as we entered the room where John was being held on by James and Jace Taylor. They greeted us when we entered before both brothers left the room with Cordelia leaving me alone with John.
"Bo-Boss"
*********
"You fucked with the wrong person, John," I said as his head hung in between his arms that were chained to the wall. My once white button up was stained red with his blood that splattered onto me from the constant stabbing I had done to John, "Not only did you steal from me and conspired with the enemy, but I also did some research and guess what I learned?" I asked setting the knife down on the table and he didn't even move, though he made a noise, "you're a sick son of bitch. Does your girlfriend know that you love little boys? I saw your name on the list of names that were clients of Patrick Carmichael."
He slowly looked up and I could see his eyes widen at the revelation and I smirked, "did you ever wonder how Cordelia and James found you? I mean you did a pretty good job at hiding but not good enough to not be found." I said making him swallow and look down once more but I grabbed him by the chin making him look up, "I believe you know Amelia Ramirez," he snapped his head up at the mention of his new girlfriend and furrowed his brows, "Amelia Ramirez is actually a very good friend of mine as well as the widow of my cousin Angelo Ramirez who died two years ago during an ambush that you were responsible of considering you had alerted one of my enemies of our location."
"You're lying," he stuttered but I shook my head and smiled.
"If you don't believe me,then what do you say we hear what she's got to say?"
I didn't wait for his reply as I pulled up the video that I received a few moments ago fro Amelia herself and pressed the play button.
"Hello Johnathan, I do apologize for not giving you a well deserved send off when Cordelia and James showed up at the house but I was a little busy," she said to the camera and John stared at the screen with wide eyes. Amelia Ramirez is a beautiful woman with midnight black hair, copper colored eyes and sun kissed skin. She was no older than I was at 28. She has two children aged 5 and 3. She was married to my cousin Angelo Ramirez who—as I mentioned—was killed during an ambush. He was a great man with a good heart who loved his wife and children more than anything in the world and who would have given anything for them. He was only 26 when he died.
"I really do hope you suffer as much as possible for everything that you've done starting from killing my husband two years ago during that ambush that you orchestrated in hopes of getting rid of Gio but that backfired on you when he didn't show up. I hope you rot in the pits of hell." With that, Amelia turned the camera off leaving the screen black. I placed the phone back on the table and leaned on the edge of it.
"See? She didn't care about you as she was the one who called and informed Cordelia and James to where you were, all so she could have her revenge for the death of her husband," I stated and he looked down his shoulders sagging the only reason he hadn't fallen to the floor was due to the chains holding him up, "you really fucked with the wrong person and like Amelia said, rot in the pits of hell."
The knife met flesh, soft and pudgy, and made a satisfying squish as the tip of the blade sank deep enough to make John scream. I twisted the blade in my hands, all the while sinking it deeper and deeper. His skin was tearing to shreds as the knife rotated, the sound of his muscles and nerves being gouged growing louder. Then, without warning, I jerked it all the way into his stomach, until the shiny metal had disappeared inside him and the black handle was pushing against his broken skin. His cry was a brilliant sound, guttural chokes mixed with an agonized roar.
I smirked down at my now deathly white victim. He sank to his knees, continuing to scream, convulsing and trembling like a rabid animal and thick blood flowing freely from the gaping hole in his stomach. The cascade of John's life source gushed out in all directions, scarlet liquid squirting up all over me. I turned away as his please for mercy became quieter, the sweet tang of blood tingling in my nostril.
And then, there was silence. The room smelled like blood. I wiped the blood that splattered onto my face with the back of my hand and sat the blade down.
"Rot in hell."