How Villains Are Made - Kaz Brekker

Chapter One

TW: Violence, Dead Body, Vulgar Language

Kaz Brekker's mind was everywhere at once; that was the price he had to pay for the job he had gotten.

Besides taking care of the Crow Club, he had to make sure Jesper was really doing his job taking care of the door and keep an eye on the book of the Dregs to make sure that Per Haskell wasn't stealing any money besides the usual – a single kruge more could mean someone would skip a meal or two. It was a lot for a single person, but he wasn't sure he could trust anyone to do that job.

Of course, he had learned to delegate a lot. Anika had taken over the bar of the club, Inej had taken over the control over the other employees for him and even Jesper would help him here and there with doubling shifts so Kaz could sleep a single night of the week. But even delegating it all, he was still exhausted.

And he was throwing all his anger on the slaps he was giving on the man tied up on the chair of the club's office, distant from the parlour and sound-proof.

"Tell how the fuck you got the fucking money!" Kaz insisted in a firm voice.

"It was given to me," the man whimpered. "I promise, I'm telling the truth, please. Please, stop!"

"It's the third time you tell me this and you still didn't give me the name," Kaz said, leaning back on the desk behind him, he put his cane in his front, taking some of the weight off his bad leg. "You will either tell me the name, or you'll tell how they got into my account. And then... I'll free you."

The man looked up, fat on his double chin shaking as he struggled to breathe, a coat of sweat all over him. His blue eyes met Kaz's dark brown, looking for mercy, looking for light – there was nothing other than ice in there.

"It was a whore," he said. "How am I supposed to know her name? She gave it to me and told me to buy her off the White Rose, but why would I?" he shook his head, tears rolling down his face. "I'm married, and you know how it is – all whores just want something from us, just like we want something from them. I wouldn't buy her off, I have a reputation to maintain. I swear, it was all. My wife would kill me, and I'd never see my children again if she knew about it."

Kaz tried his best to swallow down the anger he felt, but he knew it was just the pent-up frustration of weeks finally taking over his whole mind as he allowed the dangerous smile to get to his lips.

He knew people hated when he smiled, especially when his face was splashed with blood. They would call his smiles 'shark-like', making most people feel like prey. Still, Kaz would like to remind all of them that they were, indeed, prey and he was a proud hunter if the situation asked for it.

The most important thing that actually made Kaz get to the brink of frustration was the fact of how much he hated those type of man. Horrible, horrible men that made sure the world outside of the brothel knew him like a good man, good husbands and good fathers to good children – as if those terrible things they did to those young girls wasn't anything important, as if they were not important. Kaz hated those type of men. Kaz killed those type of men and then went out for a drink with the remains of blood and smiles on his face.

Kaz hated faked goodness.

Perhaps, Kaz just hated kindness in anyway at all, after all there wasn't a single act of goodness out in the world that came without a price. Nothing was done without a second intention behind it. He had been fooled by it before and it costed the life he knew as a child, leaving nothing but the shell of a boy and the soul of a demon to roam the earth in his place.