His Greatest Redemption [REUPLOADED]

6

"Let's go." Spade didn't give me a chance to open my mouth and protest before he shouldered past me and started walking down the hallway, not bothering to check and make sure I was following.

His home was like a maze. Spacious and wide and too big for me to correctly map out in my head. I mean, who the fuck needed two living rooms? The second we passed by the doubled door that I'd missed the first time- the only exit out of this place, a shiver ran down my body. How did I run past the front doors? I mean, granted, he probably had guards outside, armed and ready to shoot me, but that was far besides the point at the moment.

I ran past it.

It was starting to feel like we'd been walking forever, until finally, he stopped. My pulse picked up when he approached one of the doors in the narrow hallway, and my eyes never left his hands as he grabbed the door handle and pushed it open, revealing an office. He used the heel of his shoe to open the door wider, inclining with a nod of his head for me to go inside.

I gulped, and then stepped inside.

Everything was in top-tier shape, and aside from the huge bookshelf full of novels, the leather couch and glass coffee table in front of it, along with the long wooden mahogany desk and the two visitor's chairs in front of that, his office was empty. The walls were painted a vicious, smoke-grey color.

"You're losing my fucking interest," He said suddenly. I whirled my head around to stare at him as he stood by the now closed door. "Not very smart for someone in your predicament." His voice, like his looks, was sharp and vicious. I swallowed the last drop of spit left in my mouth, leaving my throat feeling dry.

"Why am I here? And where the fuck is my brother?"

His eyes locked on my face, and I waited for him to look away, but he didn't. He was staring as if he was trying to unsheathe every little secret I'd ever kept to myself, and that unsettled me. There was something unspoken in his gaze, causing a weird sensation to skip down my spine. "Sit." Finally taking his eyes off of me, he inclined his tatted hand towards the general area of the chair in front of the desk.

"I asked you a question." My voice wasn't as strong as I tried to make it, and Spade saw through my facade with no problem. I hated that, and I hated him for it.

"And I said sit the fuck down. Should I put it in a language you can understand?" Bastard. So, this was him. The notorious King of Chaos, ruler of the La Cosa Nostra, and I knew, without a shadow of a doubt that he lived up to every story and assumption that came with the name. He was like every dangerous thing in this world wrapped up into one man.

Lowering myself in the seat, I kept my eyes on him as he made his way to the front of his desk. He remained quiet, but his eyes did the speaking for him. They were low and menacing, threatening. His gaze was intense- the type of intensity that rolled off of him in waves, practically drifting into the air and poisoning it.