𝒟ℯ𝓁𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉ℯ － ℬ𝓊𝒸𝓀𝓎 ℬ𝒶𝓇𝓃ℯ𝓈 𝒳 𝒪𝒞

𝒻ℴ𝓊𝓇

A/N: Holy Santa Claus shit. This is about to be a wild ride with plot twists and turns... you all are gonna lose it. Enjoy this chapter, read the content warnings, and buckle up! This is based before James and Zaya even got together and will repeat the end of chapter One to line up the timelines, but from a new pov 😉 Comment and vote everyone, almost 10,000 words!

CW: Blood/gore, Russian Roulette, Mafia James (yes, this is a warning), finger severing, mentions of SA, this will be a heavy chapter, but it all will make sense. Also mentions of STUCKY?! Yes there will be a little bit of Stucky in this book, and possibly some threesomes?

~

13 hours earlier...

James held his revolver against Dominick's skull, who James assumed was the only person dumb enough to try and break into his estate and think he could get away with it.

Dom was working for Zemo, the biggest crime boss in New York who wanted James' empire to crumble. But the thing about James is that he was smarter and younger. He worked harder, did the dirty work, and enjoyed killing the awful men who walked the pavement of this city.

He drove the gun closer to Dominick's temple, hearing him whimper in pain and begging James to stop through soft sobs as his wrists were restrained behind him.

"You know that you're a fatuous little fucking ameuter, Dom?" James hissed through gritted teeth. "You vile piece of shit, don't you know how fucking inconvenient you are?!"

Dom shook his head, groaning as James slowly put his finger over the trigger. "Sneaking into my estate..." He pulled the hammer back and pressed it harder into his skin. "Trying to kill me," he giggled to himself like a little kid, his eyes darkening with malice.

"I'm sorry!" Dominick cried out. "Okay?!"

"Jesus Christ," James rolled his eyes, shaking his head, displeased. "This is just pathetic. Usually, your little friends have a little more fight in em," James opened the revolver and made sure there weren't any bullets in there. In truth, he was only using this gun to instill fear into this guy's mind. All of the shells were in his suit pocket. James just wanted Dom to think he was playing a round of Russian roulette with his brain. So the idiot would talk.

"What do you want me to say?! If I yell at you, you'll kill me!" Dom defended himself helplessly.

James paused for a minute, looking away before he shrugged knowingly and scrunching up his face, admitting to Dom being correct.

"Well... At least you have that little ounce of knowledge going for ya."

"All I'm asking is you let me go! No games. I promise I'll just leave!"

James's eyes narrowed, and he chuckled darkly.

"Oh well... One thing you'll learn about me is I love games," James' lips curled menacingly as he squeezed the trigger, and the gun made another gentle click.

Nothing.

Dom cried out, sobbing onto the desk.

"Please, please! Don't! Why are you doing this?!" He wailed.

James tilted the man's head up with the barrel and made him meet his cold and lifeless stare.

"Because you listened to your pathetic little boss."

"Alright!" He cried out again. "I won't go back! I'll leave. I won't-"

James' eyes flicked over Dom's bloodied features. He had been fucking with the guy for over an hour, beating him up. He didn't crack all this time. He was just begging James to let him go. As much as he loved hearing someone beg for their life, Dom wasn't as entertaining as it usually was. This was just pathetic. Sometimes James could get the straightest of guys to offer to suck his dick just to get him to spare their life. Now, that was entertaining to witness.