The Don's Wife

30 | Fireworks

"He really need to be this extra." Andrea sighed as he scope out the whole mansion through his riffle from the far-off distance.

Men stationed everywhere within corners of the establishment. The front yard, the main entrance, the balcony, unequivocally the back entrance, and plenty more roamed inside.

"Tell me about it, the guy literally serve an entire buffet for us." Lorenzo complained.

"From how I see it, we should be honored. That just shows the man regards us as highly reputable guests." Said Micah playfully.

"From how I see it, it's insulting."
James emerged beside Micah, with a katana machete ready in hand.

"How so?" Micah glanced at the black carbon steel then to James. A sly smile formed on his lips.

"For him to infer such number is enough to handle us." James stated coldly as he sheath the weapon behind his back.

"Decided that guns aren't sufficient?" Sarcasm laced within Micah's tone.

"Guns couldn't sever limbs." Though it was said nonchalantly, his face darkened with anger.

"Fair point." Micah scoffed.

"And it's been a while. I need to shake some rust off."

The last time James held his sword against someone was when he was fourteen. One rainy day, one duel, one former good friend, and one defeat. From that day onwards, he never picked up his favorite instrument again, for he had lost his reason to.

But now he has found a reason.
And he can't wait to feel it.
To feel the pressure of the sharp blade as it slices through Finn's flesh, dismembering him into pieces.

"So how should we do this, brother?" Micah stood up. Ready to heed James' command.

"Seeing how they've gone through all the trouble to welcome us, I'd say we walk ourselves over the front door. Like a proper guest would."

Typical answer from typical Jameson Salvatore.
Micah thought.

"Alright then. Let's give these motherfuckers a house warming gift." Micah tapped James' shoulder as he walked ahead of him.

When James, Micah, and Lorenzo arrived at the front yard, they were greeted by a handful of Finn's men. One facing directly in front of James, while the others positioned behind, already armed.

"Evening gentlemen. I'm only here to kill one man, and retrieve my wife. If you'd be so kind to lead me to them, I will take it into consideration to spare all of you." James put it bluntly, yet politely.

Regrettably, his courtesy was ignored.
Which was the exact respond James wished for.

"Finn has a message for you." With his smug grin, the man in front of him raised his hand, cueing the others to point their guns towards the three.

At that moment in time, their fate has been sealed.

"May you–"

*Bang!*

Leaving no chance for him to even begin his sentence, a bullet already pierced through his skull from afar.