𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐘 | 𝟏𝟖+

15

Lorenzo's POV

TW: Violence

• • •

The sounds that filled the warehouse were the screams of Ivan Kozlov—my newest acquisition to find Nikolai.

It took weeks for me to finally track him down due to his consistent travels to and from Russia.

He's a close asset to Volkov, being the man knows his actions before he makes them. Kozlov was known to be a blabber mouth, but his tendencies have died down since rumors of Volkov killing his sister to send him a message.

Kozlov hung from rope that was tied to the ceiling. He swung in anguish as the blood dripped from his chest and down to his torso.

He's only been here a few hours, and he hasn't been talking. Like me, he has scars from earlier torture.

I was once taken as retaliation to my father by a man whose identity is still unknown. I've learned to lock the darkest memories of my childhood into a small box and forget about them.

The memories would've done me no good if flashbacks of pain and suffering come to the surface.

I watched Kozlov as he winced in agony from the blade of my knife that was covered in his blood. The sight of him suffering made something spark inside of me.

Is this what my father felt when he tortured innocent men for information?

"Just tell me what you know and I'll stop. Pinky swear." I told Kozlov, while smirking. Knowing it was a lie.

His mouth curled into a small 'o' and he spit in my face. I pointed my tongue on side of my cheek and chuckled while taking the handkerchief from my suit jacket and used it to wipe the saliva from my face. "Wrong answer." I took the knife once again, and punctured his skin while sliding it against his stomach.

Kozlov began to scream out as I glided the knife against his skin while whistling, just as my father did. He'd whistle his favorite songs while humiliating his next victim.

"Enzo.." he gasped with an airy laugh, "I didn't know you had it in you. Y-your father would be proud to know he didn't raise a pussy."

"Funny you mention him. He also taught me how to do this." I stabbed the corner of his skin above his spleen and dug it in deeply while he shouted for me to stop.

Blood covered the area, but I swabbed it away as I continued.

Once I identified his spleen, I began to rip it out. Kozlov hollered, but I didn't stop. "You can live without a spleen, I lived without mine."

I detached it from his body, and showed it to him. Tears streamed down his face, and he tried to control his breathing, but he couldn't.

"I wonder what a spleen actually tastes like," I said, still holding it up, "would you like a taste?" I mocked him, moving it closer to his mouth.

"No! Please. I'll tell you anything. Please!" He cried out, begging me for mercy.

I dropped his organ on the floor, and wiped my hands clean. "That's more like it, tell me about Volkov."

Six years ago

"Dad, please. No." I said, begging him to put down the knife he's holding. "I'm sorry," I cry, trying to convince him what he's doing to me is wrong.

"The more you resist, the more it'll hurt." He said, eying the part of my torso he was about to cut into. "You refused a kill order, so now you will pay the price, son. I didn't raise you this way."