"You will not drown the truth in seas of blood."
- Maxim Gorky
I fucked up.
In my mind, I was protecting my family, yet ironically, I was only exposing them to greater danger.
Jamie losing his job was never my intention; he didn't deserve that outcome.
My leg trembled uncontrollably as I waited for Sawyer's return with the man who caused my brother his job. I needed to rectify the chaos I had instigated, regardless of the price.
In the darkness of my home office, I couldn't help but replay the series of events that led to this moment, each memory heavier than the last. The thought that my actions had spiraled so catastrophically out of control was a pill too bitter to swallow.
I sat at the desk, tapping my foot uncontrollably, the rhythmic thud a small echo of the chaos swirling within me.
Though Sawyer had been gone for merely two hours, the stretch of anticipation seemed to distort time itself, making his absence feel infinitely longer.
A firm knock on the office door startled me to my feet.
"Come in," I called out, my voice steady despite the tumult inside me.
Sawyer entered, and the look he gave me was all the confirmation I needed that he had succeeded in his task.
"He's all wrapped up and waiting for you in the basement, boss," he announced, his voice betraying none of the tension that was undoubtedly gripping him as well.
I followed Sawyer down to the basement. It was dark, with shadows dancing along its cold, concrete walls. The single, naked bulb hanging from the ceiling barely lit the small, cluttered space, where the man was bound to a chair, his head drooping forward, a dried trail of blood from his split lip down his chin.
I descended the creaking stairs with deliberate slowness, each step echoing ominously through the damp air. My eyes were ice-cold, a sharp contrast to the heat of my simmering anger. Sawyer stood by the side, his presence looming like a silent specter.
The informant - visibly trembling - raised his eyes to meet mine, and in that moment, he understood the gravity of his mistake.
"You see, I don't take kindly to people messing with my family," I began, my voice soft but carrying a lethal edge as I circled the bound man like a predator stalking its prey.
The man lifted his head, his eyes wide with fear, lips trembling.
"Thought you could play my brother for a fool, didn't you?" My voice was cold, laced with venom.
"I-I was paid. I didn't have a choice," the man stammered, desperation evident in his eyes.
My laughter was bitter, void of any true amusement. "You always have a choice. You chose poorly."
Sawyer handed me a small, silver object, which glinted under the harsh light. I examined it momentarily before holding it up for the man to see-a sharp, sleek scalpel.
"I was hoping we could have a civilized conversation," I said, tracing the edge of the scalpel with a finger, "But since you've been bought to betray, I'm curious... how deep does your loyalty go? How much did they pay for your silence? Or rather, how much will it cost to buy it back?"
The man's eyes darted around, searching for any means of escape, but there was none. He was trapped, not just by the physical bindings, but by the realization of his dire situation.
"I...I'm sorry. Please, I have a family," he pleaded, the desperation in his voice thickening.
My expression didn't waver. "So does my brother. Yet, you didn't think twice before destroying his life, did you?" My voice was now a whisper, a lethal calm before the storm.
With precise movements, I pressed the scalpel against the man's cheek, a thin line of blood welling up instantly. His breath hitched, a soft whimper escaping his lips.
"This is for my brother," I whispered, the scalpel moving with deadly precision, "For every drop of dignity you stripped from him, we'll take an equal measure from you."
The man's cries filled the basement, echoing off the walls, a haunting melody of pain and regret that I couldn't help but relish.
Without warning, my fist connected with his abdomen, the sound of cracking ribs echoing in the confined space.
The man gasped for air, pain etching lines across his face, but I was relentless, each blow a testament to my unwavering loyalty to my brother.
Sawyer, watching me from the shadows, saw the moment my fury threatened to cross a line.
"Frankie, enough!" he interjected firmly, stepping forward to restrain me. "Remember, we need him to recant his statement. Alive."
I paused, my chest heaving, and then stepped back, my gaze never leaving the man writhing in pain before me.
"Consider this a mercy," I spat, my voice laced with contempt. "Go back to the police. Tell them the truth. Tell them you lied about Detective Hansley. And if you even think about pulling such a stupid stunt again..." I leaned in, my words a whisper but my intent crystal clear, "I'll make sure you beg for death long before I grant it."
The informant nodded fervently, words lost to him in his fear.
I turned on my heel and ascended the stairs, my anger gradually subsiding.
Sawyer followed, casting a final glance at the beaten man. "You've got till dawn to make it right," he said, a grim promise in his voice. "Or the next visitor you get won't be as forgiving."
"Make sure he's taken to the station first thing tomorrow," I ordered Sawyer. "And keep tabs on Daniel Pierce for me - his every move against Jay needs to be reported."
"You got it," Sawyer replied with a nod.
As we approached the front door, Irving stopped us. "Boss, there's a Michael Radley at the gate claiming to be your client," he informed me.
I cursed silently; Michael's unexpected visit couldn't have come at a worse time.
After a brief internal debate, I decided, "Let him in."
"Do you want me to stick around?" Sawyer offered.
"No, it's fine," I reassured him. "He won't be here for long."
Hurrying back to my office, I stood in front of the mirror, tidying my appearance and ensuring I looked presentable rather than someone who had just dealt with a situation in the basement.
Seated at my desk, I monitored the surveillance footage on my computer, observing Michael Radley approaching my front door. I watched as he paused, scanning the security cameras discreetly stationed around the property, and the not-so-subtle presence of security personnel patrolling the area.
Moments later, he was already knocking on my office door.
"Come on in," I called out.
Michael walked in, dressed in one of his fancy Brioni suits, the intoxicating smell of his perfume invading the room as well as my nostrils. His nonchalant air ever so evident.
My annoyance quickly masked by a warm, if somewhat guarded, smile, as I rose from my chair to greet him, "Michael, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
He smiled back, though his eyes briefly flicked to the camera above my office door before meeting my gaze again. "Just wanted to see how you were doing. You've got quite the security detail."
I shrugged nonchalantly, though I could see him noticing a flicker of worry in my eyes before I veiled it. "One can never be too careful these days," I replied.
Michael took a seat across from my desk, looking around. "True, but this seems more than just being careful, Frankie. What's going on?"
I couldn't help but sigh, finally allowing my facade of indifference to falter. "It's just some...complications. Nothing I can't handle."
Michael leaned in, his concern evident. "You know a threat when you see it, Frankie. And so do I. This," he gestured to the windows, where the shadows of my security detail could be seen, "is more than complications."
For a moment, I was going to continue deflecting, but then my shoulders slumped, and I confessed, "Okay, so maybe it's a bit more serious than just complications. I've got a situation that's a little over my head."
Michael's gaze softened. "Hey, it's me. You know you can trust me, right? Let me help you, Frankie."
I bit my lip, feeling torn. "I don't know, Michael. It's pretty dangerous, and I couldn't bear it if something happened to you because of me."
Reaching out, Michael took my hands in his, his touch gentle. "I'm not just offering help out of obligation or some misplaced sense of heroism. I care about you, Frankie. I can't just stand by and watch you go through this alone. Let me help, let me be there for you. Whatever this is, we can face it together."
I looked up into Michael's eyes, searching them for any hint of hesitation. Finding none, a soft, grateful smile graced my lips. "Thank you, Michael. That means more to me than you know."
He returned my smile with one of his own, squeezing my hands reassuringly. "Then it's settled. You'll fill me in on everything, and we'll figure out how to handle this...together."
──●◎●──
The city lights flickered below as I stood outside Hector's penthouse, my heart racing with nervous energy as I prepared to face him.
A bitter mixture of guilt and regret gnawed at me. Hector didn't deserve this, for everything he had done for me, he didn't deserve the pain I had caused him.
I had to make things right, I had to apologize.
Taking a deep breath, I walked towards the towering building, my steps faltering with each step. I knew that Hector would be furious, but I had to try. I couldn't let him go without saying sorry, without trying to make amends.
The elevator ride up to his penthouse felt like an eternity, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my dress as I thought about the words I would say.
As the elevator doors opened, I was faced with the grandeur of Hector's home. The spacious living room was empty and he was nowhere in sight.
I hesitantly made my way towards the bedroom, my heart pounding louder with each step. When I reached the door, I took a deep breath and knocked softly.
"Who is it?" Hector's voice boomed through the door, making me flinch.
"It's me," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
The door swung open, revealing Hector standing in front of me, his dark grey eyes blazing with anger.
He had always been a dangerous man, but after everything that had happened between us, he was different. His demeanor had starkly changed, oozing barely contained rage that bordered on frightening.
"What do you want?" he snarled, his words dripping with venom.
"I...I just wanted to talk to you. I need to apologize for what I did," I said, my voice trembling despite my intended resolve.
"You mean using me in your fucking twisted revenge scheme? You think an apology will make everything okay?" His voice was laced with sarcasm as he spoke.
"I know I did a terrible thing, Hector. I lied to you. Please, just let me explain," I pleaded, my eyes brimming with tears.
Hector's anger was simmering beneath the surface, his tamed darkness on the brink of eruption.
"You fucking lied to me, Frankie! You made me believe that you cared for me. I was a fool to fall for your fucking lies," his words were like daggers, piercing through my heart.
"I...I didn't mean to hurt you, Hector. I never meant for things to go this far," I said, my voice breaking.
"I loved you, Frankie. For fuck's sake I fucking loved you! And you used me, like a fucking pawn in your game," his voice was barely above a whisper, his anger threatening to burst.
"Please, Hector. I'll do anything to make it right. Just give me a chance to explain," I pleaded, my eyes desperate.
Hector's face softened for a moment, his eyes filled with pain and hurt. But then, in an instant, his expression changed and his tamed darkness took over. He grabbed me by the arm and pulled me roughly into the bedroom, pushing me against the wall.
"Explain? You want to explain? There's nothing you can say that will justify what you did to me," Hector yelled, his grip around her arm tightening.
"Hector, please. I'm sorry. I'll do anything!" I cried out, tears streaming down my face, words betraying me.
But Hector wasn't listening. He was consumed with anger and betrayal, and he couldn't control himself.
Unexpectedly, he pulled me closer and kissed me with force, his strong hands gripping my body tightly, his touch possessive.
In that moment, I was consumed by the intensity of his kiss, my heart racing as I believed he had finally let go of his pent-up anger.
But his actions grew rougher, conveying a different intent.
His fingers trailed down to the area between my legs, feeling the growing heat and desire there. As his touch became rough and almost painful, a stark contrast to his usual tenderness, I couldn't help but crave it, succumbing to the wild passion he ignited in me.
This unexpected and heated moment was pushing me to the brink of my sanity, a feeling both inexplicable and welcomed.
With each movement, Hector grew rougher and more forceful, bringing a mix of pleasure and pain.
"Hector..." I moaned against his lips, savoring the pleasure he was providing.
Then, in one swift motion, he moved his hand up to my throat, tightening his grip.
Fear and desperation momentarily washed over me, but I didn't even attempt to push him away. Because deep down, I believed I deserved whatever punishment he saw fit to give me. Perhaps this was his way of releasing all the pent-up anger and frustration he had towards me.
But as he tightened his grip on my throat, I felt like I was suffocating, at the mercy of a man I thought I knew. Just as I was about to give in to the darkness, Hector finally released me, stepping back with no words spoken.
"Leave, Frankie. And don't ever come back," he said, his cold and distant tone striking me like a thousand knives.
I was left standing there, gasping for air, my heart torn apart by guilt and regret.
I had destroyed the one person who had shown me a different side of himself, the one person I loved. My actions had caused him to want to hurt me in return.
As I left the penthouse, it dawned on me that I had lost him forever.