Chapter 2 Debts Of The Damned

• "𝔚𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔳𝔦𝔩 𝔣𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔬𝔳𝔢, 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔥𝔞𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔶 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯. 𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔢 𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔣𝔦𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔤𝔬 𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔡𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔥𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔥𝔢𝔯."
• — 𝔲𝔫𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔫.
• Eight years later…
• [ZEKE]
• I don’t like being tricked. But what I hate even more is when something I don’t expect happens. There’s nothing more infuriating than being out of control. If only at a single step.
• Elio’s face blends well with the white interiors of the private hospital room by the time I get there with Marco. When my gaze lands on him, he visibly flinches, even though I have not yet fired the bullet. He’s probably pissed himself, but I ignore him for now, diverting my attention to the woman who’s living the last moments of her life.
• An unremarkable face, dark hair that's matted from the days of imprisonment—and even then I know she wouldn't stand out in a crowd. She’s forgettable and bland, unlike some others…Stop thinking about her, fucker. It’s been eight years. This one doesn’t have a name in my mind—I thought I’d come up with something—rabbit or mouse, depending on how she squeals when I start torturing her, but she took that chance away from me. And saved herself.
• Cowardly, but smart.
• And futile, anyway. Because she was no one important to Vance—she definitely wasn’t his daughter, and if only for a few moments, he had me convinced otherwise.
• The woman draws a last shuddering breath before she stills. The doctor standing beside her notes the time of death. You killed her, an unwelcome voice murmurs. It’s my father’s voice. I ignore it, the way I ignored him in life.
• Elio recoils as I turn my attention back to him, but there’s nowhere to go. As much as he’d prefer it now, the wall isn’t going to swallow him. I move slowly, seizing his collar and yanking him up like the worthless sack of bones he is. He gasps, his watery eyes going wide with terror. The nurses scurry out, understanding their place.
• “How are you going to explain this to your boss?” I ask in a deadly calm voice.
• Elio trembles, his teeth clicking together. He knows he’s about to die. Good. He should fear me.
• I glance at Marco, my right-hand man, standing by the door with an amused smirk. “Tell me, Marco, how is it that my perfectly healthy bride just dropped dead?”
• Marco chuckles. “Poison, boss. An easier way to go, if you ask me.”
• I turn back to Elio, my grip tightening. My gun is in my hand before I even think about it, the barrel pressed to his clammy forehead. He shudders, and a dark stain spreads across the front of his pants. Pathetic.
• “Your boss owed me for his betrayal, Elio. That woman was his way of making it right, his chance to get back in my good graces. So tell me—do you think he’ll be happy knowing his debt is still unpaid? That she died under your care?”
• Elio swallows hard, panic swimming in his eyes. “No, please…”
• “Did you pity her, and feed her the poison yourself? Because once I found the truth, she’d go back to Vance, and he’d just be as brutal if not more,” I say, shaking my head slowly.
• Elio chokes, “I swear, I had nothing to do with this!”
• I press the gun harder against his skull. “Then give me a reason not to kill you where you stand.”
• The woman Vance Moretti sent to me was supposed to be his way of repaying his debt—a bargaining chip to win back my favor, to show that he was once again loyal to the Russells. But this morning, I found out the truth—she was never his to offer. Vance played me for a fool.
• But he made himself a bigger fool. How in hell did he think he could get away with this? It only gets uglier from here. For him, and for the rest of his damned family.
• He gasps, and then finally fesses, “She wasn’t his daughter!”
• I tilt my head and withdraw the gun. “Now you’re speaking,” I begin calmly, a dangerous smile drawing to my lips.
• Elio’s brows furrow, his breath thinning.
• “Of course I knew, Elio. But I thought you didn’t. I hoped you didn’t, because, you see… that is enough reason for me to put these bullets through your head. But I think the hounds will like you better.” He cries, squirming in my hold in a weak attempt to break free. The sound grates at my nerves, but I resist. “Do continue. Tell me more while I still let you live. Who knows… I might change my mind after all.”
• He takes the chance, and immediately begins to blurt out. “Vance’s real daughter… he has one who’s been kept a secret. She doesn’t know about him, about any of this. She’s... clean. Innocent.”
• I nod, already smiling. This is going to be so much fun, Vance. “Does his son know about her?”
• “Vincent doesn’t,” Elio answers, confusion masking his face. “I don’t know why Vance won’t tell him.”
• An interesting detail. I cock my head to the dead woman on the hospital bed. “How long have you known about her?”
• Elio’s head bobs frantically. “I swear, I only found out recently. I wanted to tell you—I was scared, boss! B-but his real daughter can be the payment. I know where she is—I can bring her to you.”
• I release Elio, letting him crumple to the floor. He gasps for breath, shaking. Useless.
• “You have 24 hours,” I say, my voice cold. “Deliver her to me. And not a word of this to Vance. He should think I’m marrying the woman he sent—up until that veil is lifted off her face. Fail, and I’ll carve you up piece by piece and feed you to my hounds.”
• “No! No, please!” He crawls toward me, sobbing. “I’ll do it! I’ll bring her!”
• I step over him without a second glance. He’s already dead in my mind, whether he delivers or not.
• Marco falls into step beside me. I exhale slowly, rolling my shoulders back as we step out of the hospital. “So, what’s the real plan for the girl, boss?”
• I pause, smirking at the thoughts swirling in my mind. “I’m going to marry her, of course,” I answer. “Make her mine in every way that matters. Let Vance watch as his precious little girl learns what it means to belong to me.”
• Marco whistles low. “And if she resists?”
• My fingers flex at my sides.
• “She will,” I say with a nod. “That’s what will make it so much more satisfying when she finally breaks.”
• I pause, glancing at him with a smirk. “Tell me, Marco, do you believe in fate?”
• Marco chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t say I do.”
• I hum. “Well, Vance’s daughter is about to learn that it doesn’t matter what she believes.” I glance toward the darkened city skyline.
• “Because fate has already decided. She’s mine. And I think I’ll enjoy ruining her.”