That pompous, twig-legged, Carrot Top looking, no good, washed up degenerate reject spawn of the devil, crawling from the cracks of hell son of a bitch! Derrick flung his cup of coffee into a nearby wall and paced back and forth for three seconds before looking back at his computer screens. Being able to concentrate on the security cameras footages throughout his apartment, he's able to identify every last one of the bastards that passed across his screen. After what happened twelve years ago, you'd think he had learned his lesson but no, gathering information was never his strong suit. Hence, he was in charge of Intel and Command of Operations. But that faithless week made it all change...
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"Miss Chelsea, your brother wants to talk to you." Derrick said as he opened the door to her bedroom. Normally, nothing rouses a reaction out of him wherever he goes; it's a skill you quickly learn for the position he currently works in. Yet, seeing what is going on in front of him will have him catching shit for the next week if someone else caught them: Chelsea was currently spread-eagled with one of his subordinates quickly pumping away at her insides huffing like an overworked treadmill, however, she wasn't enthralled by his vigor at all. She looked bored out of her mind, honestly.
"G..." They seemed to hear him then, "get out." This caused G's soul to leave his body as he scrambled to disconnect whichever of his limbs were glued to hers and picked up every scrap of clothing that belonged to him.
"Sir..."
"Don't say anything; just get out."
"I need to-"
"GET OUT! Everyone from Russia to Australia have seen your shining, soapsuds-looking ass. Makes no sense to ashamed now. I'll deal with you later." He just bowed and quickly shut the door, the muffled slapping of bare feet against hardwood floor depleting with distance.
"Awww, you didn't have to treat him like that." Chelsea's Cheshire-like grin filled her face as she rolled to her side, arm propping her head up to give Derrick her full attention... or was it her tits she was trying to gain attention for? Doesn't matter; he has orders, he will follow through.
"My subordinates have nothing to do with you unless advised. Get up; you meet your brother in five."
She got up alright, but not before rolling on her stomach to stretch, her ass high in the air reminiscent to that of a cat with a little shake to the soft curve. Her posture was poised and perfect showing off her teachings from a young age even with the rebelliousness she carried. She came over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck pressing what God blessed her with against his own.
"That's no way to talk to your boss."
"I don't recall you hiring me."
"I still have superiority over you."
"Yet you don't behave like someone to look up to." That earned him a slap. He didn't flinch either; he probably deserved it too. He was never one to sugarcoat shit; don't want people dying from diabetes around him. The same hand Chelsea used to slap him was now soothing the ache that was placed there.
"It's a good thing I like you huh. I could've done worse."
"Nothing I can't handle."
"Oh yeah?" She grabbed the tie of his shirt and pulled Derrick in for kiss. He knew she wasn't a saint but he didn't expect her to be this skilled at only the age of seventeen. He didn't have time to respond when the doors to Chelsea's bedroom swung open.
"What the fu-" The question was cut short as his boss took in the little scene that lay before him: his little sister was pressed up naked against one of the few men he trusted with his life. You'd think he'd blow a gasket by now because fetching his sister on his own was not a part of his agenda - brotherly or otherwise - but he was calm, and a calm man is a dangerous man. Derrick quietly unhooked himself from Chelsea as his boss hooked his arm behind his back, "Chelsea, find some fucking clothes and get in my office now." Even she knew her brother was in a dangerous mood and didn't push his buttons like she normally would. "Derrick, you know where the cells are; I'll deal with you when I'm finished."
"Yes sir." He said it without hesitation and braced himself because he knew he will be more than catching shit for a while... he probably will be eating it.
*****
It's been a week since Derrick has been down in the tombs and it has been raining punches and kicks; a sandbag had nothing on him with the work these guys putting in on him. You'd probably think he was a new specie because of how unreal he looked - hell, you're just wondering how he's still alive. He swears most of those who were sent down here for whatever reason were just happy to just beat the shit out of him for anything they resented him for. He thought it was over when he was freed from the overhanging chains and his body was being dragged away from the cells.
In his half-conscious state, he was sat in a simple wooden chair and bounded heavily, a swinging overhead lamp blinding the irises of his slightly swollen eyes before they could adjust. At the other end of the room was his boss, flanked by two of his colleagues, smoking a cigar. Derrick groaned a bit before his chair was shook ordering him to quiet down.
"Derrick. How was your little vacation?"
"Wish I had more time for sightseeing." Well shit. Might as well been smoking for eighteen years; he could pass for jazz singer Louis Armstrong.
"Well, you're going to love this sight."
The ear-splitting, oddly coordinated squeaks of slightly rusted chair wheels against the plain white floor could drive a man crazy if it was a continuous drone but Derrick didn't have time for that as the chair came to a complete halt next to his boss. A person was sitting in the chair and they had slender, elegant legs so it was definitely a woman. She was bound to the chair like him and most likely gagged because his neck could only hold his head up for so long due to the exhaustion. One of the guys who was most likely standing behind him grabbed a chunk of hair and held his head up; looking back at him were watery brown orbs with stale tears already printed across her cheeks. He was right about the gag because she couldn't even voice anything with how they stuffed her mouth, but really had him numb was that the ropes were harshly digging into her heavily pregnant stomach causing the baby to squirm underneath the pressure.
It set Derrick off. He tried to launch out of his seat but, apparently, they had good rope today.
"You know Derrick," He took a puff of his cigar before blowing the smoke out in the woman's face before rubbing light circles in her cheek with his thumb, "I don't understand why you would fraternize with my little sister when you have this lovely woman - Lila, was it? Beautiful name - waiting for you at home every night. She seems special too given that you've been with her for so long." He leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees. "I let you fuckers get away with a lot of things because - basically - I did them myself, but I had one rule: Don't fuck with my family unless it's business. Pretty simple, right?" He got up and starting pacing around his empty chair and Lila. "If any of you questioned that rule, then here's your answer: Loyalties become skewed. I don't want when I'm dishing out punishments, I have to be careful because it's my mother's boy toy or my sister's boyfriend. I have to deal with their bullshit in the end, you don't."
He took a knife from one of the neighbouring footmen's suit jacket, the shine of the blade glinting evilly in the harsh light. "Now, I may be going overboard with this," he started, the tip of the blade spinning rhythmically against the pad of his index finger, "but I think it would be too easy to just kill you. Death would be too simple a punishment. I need you to suffer." Now standing behind Lila, he held her head back and placed the knife against her throat, and in that split second, a river of red flowed down marking every expanse of its manifestation.
"Lila! Fuck! No! You son of a bitch! Save her!"
"Keep your loyalties Derrick," he was at the door when he paused, "because consequences are a bitch to deal with, and - in case you were wondering - it was a little girl. Clean this mess up."
Derrick screamed, cursed, fought, anything to get of his chair and get to Lila but he knew it was too late; both of his girls were gone. Next thing he knew was lights out.
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When he came to, he was lying on the cold wet earth next to his dead wife and baby, rain practically drowning them. After that? His boss was smart to take his family out for "vacation" because the compound where they lived got a new paint job and - at the time - red was all the rage. Now, they are coming after Athena and Adelia - for what? He doesn't know - but he'll be damned if they take anyone else away from him.
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A/N: Finally! An update! Yay me! Enjoy it my lovelies 💕
I'll write for you soon
~Kimmie~