Bloodstained Redemption

Chapter 1

THE REAPER

My son is everything to me.
   If anyone is stupid enough to even breath at him the wrong way, I won't hesitate to plunge a knife through their skull. I've killed many before, and I will continue to do so. Theo is all I have left. My last physical proof of my previous relationship. The only physical proof of my failure; the constant reminder of my duty to protect the remnants of what used to be my family.
   When my Marie died, I died with her. My heart turned to stone, and I felt nothing but pure, immobilising agony. Then anger. Rage. Fury. I craved revenge on every sick individual who stole my love away from me. l craved the feel of their blood beneath my fingertips; the sound of their screams and pleads for mercy fuelling the fire burning inside my chest.
   Marie was everything; I'm barely alive without her. The only thing keeping me here is Theo.
   It's my job to protect him. And I will.
   But, as the threat of Marie's murderer still lingers in the shadowing depths of Seattle's underbelly, I must find a way to protect my son.
   I must find her killer. And kill him even slower.
  That's what brings me here. Mollie's. A gentleman's club in downtown Seattle, deciding whether I want to buy one of the services here, and release my pent-up frustration, from a long day of tracking down the sick fuck, into a random stripper's pussy.
   I shouldn't.
   It wouldn't be right.
   I should just go back home and be with my son. I should do that.
   But I've never done what I should do. I wouldn't be where I am if I did.
   I've built my organisation from the ground up, by not doing as I'm supposed to. I've exploited and bankrupt thousands of corporations through illegal lawsuits, and a little hacking, only then to buy the entire institution and expand the business until I have an empire of network and security companies attached to my fingers by strings. Half of this city is under my control and most of them don't even realise how easily I could destroy them, with nothing but a few presses of buttons.
   And that's only the light work. I spend hours in my free time hunting down deranged individuals who caused harm to Marie. I've never killed an innocent man, and I never will, however torturing and murdering assholes like that takes time and energy.
   The satisfying feeling of watching the life spill from their eyes until their soul no longer inhabits the empty vessel that once used to be a body barely licks at the edge of rage.
   Nothing will truly satisfy me until Marie's killer is dead, and I'm carrying his head in my hand.

The girls at Mollie's are substantial at best, but at least they know their place, and when I say leave, they do just that. Most of the time.
   Some of them don't quite understand the meaning of a hook-up and beg me to keep them; flaunting their bodies at me, as if that will persuade me to drop to one knee and pull a ring out of my asshole.
   I'm swaying back and forth between my decisions, when a woman's voice pulls me out of my inner turmoil. The voice in question was shrill, and yet a slight undertone of sarcasm laced through the words.
   It takes me a good minute to register what is being spoken by the woman before me.
   "Fantasizing about my girls again, Mr Walker?" The woman, in which being none other than Mollie herself, announces loud enough that the entire club can hear my business. I've known Mollie since I moved to Seattle 10 years ago. She has been apart of most of my life and is one of the very few people I consider a friend, if not the only person. However, she can't half be intrusive sometimes.
   "No." I reply, not bothering to fuel this conversation any further. I'm bored already and my best decision would be to just get back in my car and drive home, murdering any ideas of sex tonight.
   "Still a man of many words I see."
   I glare at her before turning eyes towards the dribble of whiskey left at the bottom of my glass. We both know what she's doing. Mollie loves to bate me; usually it works but right now I don't have the patience for it.
   I really need to leave. Now.
  "What, no reply? Not even for your best friend?"
    My eyes burning towards her again, only this time they're met with a grin that resembles that of the Cheshire Cat.
   "'Friends' is quite a stretch, Mollie. Last time I checked, we hadn't spoken for a month and the only time I see you is when I come here to then leave to even and hour later. Even my business interns see more of me than you, and I barely register their existence." I retort, my own smirk forming when I see the crease between her brows deepen.
   "Always a charmer, Walker." She retorts.
I just grin wider in response, her glare burning into my cheek.
"So...what actually has your panties in a twist?"
"Nothing of your concern, Mollie." There's nothing I hate more than people who feel the need to be a part of everyone else's business. And sure, Mollie is the closest thing I have to a 'family' apart from Theo, but still, she doesn't need the gruesome details of what my life entails. I kill people daily, I torture and slaughter men (I could never bring myself to hurt a woman) for release, and I relish in their screams. As much as this... monster has become a part of me, I don't need the people close to me to see it. The beast inside me stays hidden until I can release His wrath on the sick, twisted fucks corrupting our society.
"I'm sure I could help." Mollie yaps. God, I forgot how persistent she can be. This back-and-forth game could go on for hours if I don't end it now.
"Fine. I need a nanny for Theo." It's best to save most of the story and just get straight to the point. I don't need to explain myself anyway.
"Is that all? I was expecting something a little more drastic, given you made such a drama over nothing."
I glare at her. I'm not dramatic.
However, all that achieves is pulling a shit-eating grin from her.
"Ok, ok. Enough with the 'grumpy toddler face', you're starting to look like Theo after I tell him to go to bed early." I glare harder.
When will she get the hint?
"Alright, I get it," she lifts her hand into the air, feigning surrender, "if you need a nanny, I have the perfect girl for you."
Finally, something useful to come of this conversation.
"Elaborate." I say plainly.
Mollie simply points her slender fingers towards the bar, her copious amounts of rings glinting under the dim, red light.
My eyes lock onto the lone girl leaning against the bar table, a wall of liquor towering behind her. Her raven hair, styled in loose waves, cascaded over her smooth shoulders, shadowing her dainty neck.
How easily I could wrap my hand around it and choke her to death.
Her eyes are staring down at what looks to be her phone, the blue light illuminating her features. Plump limps, button nose, defined jawline and rosy cheeks. She is magnificent- a goddess, and yet her eyes draw me in just as medusa would. So pale and blue, like crystal waters, so inviting and yet daunting at the same time. She must feel my stare, because when her eyes meet mine, they widen the tiniest bit. Her gaze is both piercing and yet gentle, sparkling with a radiance that captivates anyone fortunate enough to meet her hold. Beautiful angel. La mia bella angela.
   Leaving Mollie in her place, I stalk over to the girl at the bar, not taking my eyes off the beauty. My plans from earlier reigniting once again.
Angela might just be the perfect way to release my frustrations, and for once I may not mind. Sure, the other girls here are beautiful, but Angela is indescribable. From her lush, thick hair, to her creamy skin.
"Whiskey, sweetheart. Neat." I announce when I arrive at the bar table.
Her eyes cast over to mine and then back down to her cell phone.
"Wait." She replies, as she continues typing. My eyes widen at her tone.
Did he just refuse me?
"I'm sorry. Did you just say no, to a customer? My voice a little more agitated than earlier.
"Yep." She replies curtly, popping the 'p'.
I take back what I said earlier. This girl is a nightmare.
"I'm sure whoever your texting can wait three minutes for you to do. Your. Job." I glare at her.
Without looking up from her phone she replies.
"Clearly," raising her icy eyes and glancing at my face for a second. "Sir, I'm busy and you are not my priority. So, if you don't mind, please wait one minute for me to send an email to my bank so I can pay my college rent, because unlike you, not everyone can be a billionaire with endless amounts of money flowing from their asshole. Therefore unfortunately, you are going to have to wait. Are you capable of doing that?"
I stand there, staring, dumbfounded at her statement. Does she know who I am?
Clearly not.
Just as I go to argue back, Mollie appears next to. I really need to put a bell on this girl, she just appears out of thin air.
"I see you've met Harper. Harp, this is Mr Walker. I'm sure he's very happy to make your acquaintance." She says, winking at me after her assumption. Happy is far from what I'm feeling. All I ask for is a drink, and yet I end up being insulted by an insolent little brat, whining about how hard her life is. Unfortunately for Harper, sympathy doesn't come naturally to me, so her sob story only fuelled to the irritation she caused in the first place.
"As I'm sure, by the looks of it, you seemed very pleased to meet Rhett as well." Mollie continues, trying, and failing miserably, to stifle her laugh.
"Of course. He is such a welcoming man, we hit it off from the start, isn't that Rhett?" Harper replies, sarcasm laced through her words. Her face forms into a grimace, and on most, it would be an ugly sight but on Angela it's gorgeous. I can admit, she is a good-looking girl, it's just a shame she's so insufferable.
"Mr Walker." I answer, abruptly.
"Excuse me?"
I roll my eyes, signing in response.
"You will address me as Mr Walker."
"I will address you however I like, Walker." Harper smirks at her retort, but I choose to ignore it. This is futile, I need a nanny, but I will not lower myself to hire her. I don't care how skilled she is, one of us will end up killing the other if she works for me.
Just as that thought leaves my head, Mollie pipes up.
"Mr Walker was just saying how he needs a nanny for his son – desperately. I told him you would be the perfect girl for the job. Rhett was so thrilled he jumped at the opportunity and ran over here like an excited puppy, before even thinking through speaking to you."
I scowl at Mollie, firstly for comparing me to a puppy, but also stated I was 'desperate' for a nanny. I have never been desperate, nor will I ever be. I control everything at my fingertips. Hell, I could access this girl's college data and could pay off her entire rent and then some.
Mollie just grins at me, and I see Harper's sceptical face from the corner of my eye.
"She's not entirely wrong. I do need a nanny; not desperately though might I add. And no, I did not jump at the opportunity to talk to you. If anything, our conversation was useless to me anyway."
"I can assure you, it was of no use to me, either." Harper retorts.
This girl is truly unbearable. God, give me strength.
Just as I go to speak again, Harper pushes off the counter and walks towards the liquor wall, inevitably turning her back to us. To me.
"Neat whiskey, correct?" Harper looks over her shoulder at me, a slight smirk gracing her pink lips, amusement glowing in her eyes.
"Yes."
She turns back towards me, a glass in hand, and raises an eyebrow at me.
"Please?" she requests.
I just stare blankly at her, with a bored expression plaguing my face. Harper rolls her eyes and slams the glass down on the counter. And by the looks in her eyes, a little more forcefully than she had meant to.
A small smile plays on my lips before I swallow it down.
I can feel her glare burn into my cheek as I drink from the glass, swallowing the entirety in one gulp. After the glass is empty, apart from the dribble left at the bottom, I place it down and snap my fingers, pointing at the empty cup.
"Another." I order.
Am I acting like an ass mainly to piss Harper off? Yes. Is it to teach her to stay in her place? Also, yes. I should feel remorse, but the look of pure hatred on her face brings me too much joy to care.
"Excuse me?" She repeats.
"That's the second time you've asked me that. You're starting to sound like a broken record."
"Well maybe if you didn't act like such an arrogant prick, maybe I wouldn't be so surprised with how rude you're being."
"All I'm asking is for another drink," I raise my hands, feigning innocence. "don't make it as difficult as last time."
At this point her expression is absolutely murderous, and I'd bet ten dollars her mind is racing to find the quickest way she could smash a bottle of liquor over my head.
Just as I think she's about to do it, she takes the bottle of whiskey and pushes it towards me. Harper's eyes don't leave mine.
"Eighty dollars for the entire bottle." She grimaces before turning back to Mollie. I almost forgot she was here.
"You have yet to take me up on my offer, Angela." I say, without taking eyes of the bottle as I pour out the liquid.
"You're delusional if you think I would ever work for you."
"Oh, sweetheart, you're delusional if you think that you're leaving here tonight unemployed by me. From tonight, you will be mine."
Her innocent eyes widen at the realisation that she has no choice in this situation. She will work for me.
"Whether you like it or not."