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❝ blood splatters ❞ ━ DOMENICO ━
The blood splatters on his skin is nothing compared to the pool on the floor. The almost dead man seated in front of him has his head bowed, eyes closed, and breathing shallow.
His skin is littered with open wounds and burns from a hot poker. Blood gushes at a slice in his leg the same way it does from a gash in his temple.
Ah, and then there's the case of the missing hand.
His lashes flutter as he wakes up and a small smile grows on Nico's handsome face.
He crouches, careful not to scuff his shoes and squints at the tortured man in front of him, "Tu insisti (You persist)."
The man musters a grunt before revealing the rest of his bruised face. A trail of blood escapes his eye and rolls down the man's cheek as his bottom lip trembles. His lip is busted and his cheeks are black and blue.
He's unrecognizable from the man that walked in with the intent to touch one of Nico's girls.
"I would say this is my best work yet, no?" Nico already knows the answer - a definite no. His work on his mother's third husband will always take the cake. "You're quiet, bastardo (bastard). Why is that?"
Rough, ringed fingers grab the man's jaw and pries it open to reveal a missing tongue.
"Ah," The man chuckles as if he'd forgotten that one piece of vital information, "Ecco perchè. (That's why)."
He stands and steps back with a sadistic grin on his face before nodding towards one of his men, Antonio. "Douse him."
On cue, Antonio grabs the jug of gasoline and pours it all over the man in the seat. He thrashes around in panic, knowing what's to come. The gasoline splatters against the floor as Nico turns away and lights a cigarette.
Inhaling deeply, he smirks when he hears Antonio put down the jug and step away. He faces the man again but stays further away from him than earlier.
Nico tilts his head as he analyzes the man's injuries, "I am willing to show you mercy," His eyes widen as much as they can with their swollenness, "If you beg."
The man nods profusely, trying to get his answer across to the gangster that looked almost bored at how quickly he tried to beg for mercy.
He expected a fight. He drags his cigarette.
"I can't hear you." Nico antagonizes and exhales the smoke in the form of a ring. "Speak up, bastardo."
The tongue-less word comes out muffled and gargled as blood spills from his wounded mouth. Nico huffs and throws the cigarette into the pool of gasoline and blood.
The man screams as he erupts into fire, the flames licking at every part of his skin.
Antonio expected nothing less from his boss but still sent him a glance.
Nico shrugs, "He would have bled out anyway."
The door to the warehouse opens and in walks two of Nico's brothers, Luca and Adriano. They're smoking their own cigarettes and chuckling to themselves at the sight of the burning man in front of them.
"Took long enough." Luca scoffs and stops beside his brother, all of their eyes captured with the man who still persists even when he's being scorched alive, "Falò. Il mio preferito. (Bonfire. My favorite.)"
Adriano shakes his head and flicks his cigarette into the flames, "Flight leaves in ten."
"Dov'è Angel? (Where's Angel?)" Nico asks, not moving from his spot despite the announcement of time.
Luca glances to his eldest brother, "Where do you think he is?"
"Cazzo." Nico mutters and rolls his eyes, "Alright, he'll catch up."
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