Impossible Spindle

PROLOGUE: TWO YEARS AGO

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Matthew

"Capo...I-I swear it was all a mistake. I could never betray you or th－AHHHHH!" I removed the pin from the bulletin, then shuffled to its other end, my eyes scurrying over the highlighted clippings, photographs, and other news articles from the last month's event. Heavy breathing, grunts and groans left in pain; that was all what consumed the thick air of the dimly-lit basement which happened to be more than a hundred-feet below the mansion grounds. Even if tried, it would easily take anyone a whole lifetime to reach here.

Ignoring another shriek, I took the last drag from the cigarette resting in between my lips, the hot smoke invading my lungs before I puffed it out－in hope to also get rid of the rage building inside my system with every sound that motherfucker made.

"A mistake? Why didn't you think about it when you shook hands with that American fucker!" Another gut-wrenching scream escaped from the traitor Aldo as Blade, my Enforcer, inserted a scrap of tequila bottle into his fingertips from under his nails flawlessly. Blood oozed out of them and my lips broke into a satisfied smirk. It was funny how he mastered the art of inflicting pain without killing despite being an year younger than me. That fucker of Aldo won't live another second if I got down to him and yet Blade wouldn't bat an eye while he was on it. I headed for the adjacent bulletin.

"There's no need to reason with him. He showed us what he did, and now we will," said my brother Zander from the far-corner of the basement. From my peripheral, I saw him walking over to the huge metal table, his tall-frame leaning opposite to Aldo.

My sprinting gaze froze the moment I saw an enlarged image of a woman sticking in between the another two photographs of hers. I plucked it out, my eyes soaking in every detail with caution. Her face still wasn't visible like the rest of her snaps, but this one gave me a perfect view of the pendant she wore. Clearest than the others.

The initials. A&M.

Gotcha.

A series of repetitive, high-pitched yells and cries left Aldo, followed by the rest of them laughing at him. Digging my hands inside my pants pocket, my fingers grazed a tiny material before I pulled it out swiftly. Then compared the 'A' initial in my hand to that in the photo.

Fucking got you.

"Enough!" Pinning the snapshot to the top, I turned abruptly to the scene in front of me. Everyone present in the room stood still including Zander with his back facing me. Streams of blood flowed through his fingers down to the concrete-floor. Dirty shit.

I prowled my way to the table next to my brother and sat him on a nearby chair. He slouched down reluctantly, anger radiating off of that which matched mine.

"I-I...apologize...C-Capo..." Aldo sobbed, unable to complete even a sentence properly. His hands were entirely cloaked in a pool of his own blood and the skin of his handcuffed wrists was scrapped because of how frequent he tried preventing them from the torture.

Serves him good.

"Alright, I forgive you." His face lit-up with alarm, caramel eyes flashing hope and my own with the closely approaching triumph.

Faint gasps and murmurs erupted in the room full of our men but it all died-down when I raised my hand up in the air. Shooting Zander a known look from the corner of my eyes, I saw his brows arched at me in understanding.

"Answer my question," I started. Averting back to Aldo, I clutched the corners of the table between us to hide my impatience and hovered into his direction, "and you're free." Even if the earth fell down or the sun turned blue, I wouldn't let this piece of shit walk out in one piece.