The Don And His Flower

15

Valis looked at the dead men in front of him.

He stood, a soaked knife in his hand as he observed such a beautiful masterpiece that was carved into the fresh corpses of Andrew and Micah.

The same two men who had remained after the ambush of  Sontarc.

Now they lay in front of him, both mutilated with deep gashes in every artery that Valis studied years ago. They bled out slowly, each inhale of breath was nothing but agonizing pain to their lungs. He made sure that the stinging sensations lasted until their hearts stopped pumping.

Valis dropped the knife, letting it clatter as he looked over his shoulder. Nikolai kept an unexpressed look to his eyes, giving him the folder.

Four months.

Four fucking months and he's found her. He's found his woman.

Right into the crevices of France. His woman remained in an old industrial building. It was shut down years ago.

Only such few mafias still resided in the land. "Go get cleaned up." Nikolai breathed out slowly, stepping aside from the doorway.

The shocked stares and low murmurs were in his ear, whispering as the Dons eldest son made his way through the compound. Opening his father's office door, he stood soaked in the blood of his enemies.

His father froze, phone to his ear as he stopped mid sentence. "I'm gonna call you back, Maroni." He spoke slowly, hanging up as he kept his eyes on his eldest boy.

The reaction alone confirmed Valis's suspicions. His father was hiding something. He was hiding something that he deserves to know, something that may or may not cost the Don his life.

The son took three steps into the room, two longer ones and his dark red stained hands were on the clean desk. Small drips from his watch, hitting the sprawled out manilla folders.

"I found her."

The air was thick. His father's face remained composed as he kept his composure frozen in place. The mere tension in the clench to his jaw was subtle, but Valis caught it.

He didn't want her found.

Don Michael Kholodov was hiding something.

"I'm going to go get her. Bring her home. Nurse her back to health. And she will talk, father."

Valis stared his father down once more. His subtle reactions angering the son more and more.

"She will tell me everything that occurred the night of the ambush. Imani will tell me the things she's endured since being held captive. And if any of the suspicions I have are confirmed. If any of the assumptions I hold in my head about you being involved father are even remotely true. Not just for the attack on Sontarc, but for her kidnapping. Father.. I say this in the most truthful way I can," he breathed out, looking at the small droplet of fear that ran down the side of his father's temple.

"Death will be pure bliss after I am done with you."

Valis didn't spare his nerve strucken father another look as he stood up straight and left. The shower was long and excruciating. Every inch of his body ached for rest as he sat on the edge of his bed.

Black cargos.

Black shirt.

Black hoodie.

Black jacket.

Silver chain.

Black and white converse.

Loaded .45 waiting to be held in his hand.