𝓑𝓮𝓪𝓼𝓽'𝓼 𝓜𝓸𝓸𝓷

Chapter-18

*•.¸♡ AUTHOR'S POV ♡¸.•*

WHIP! 

WHIP! 

The room echoed with the harsh sound of the whip, each crack slicing through the air, intermingling with the man's tortured cries. His trembling hands were bound to the metal chain suspended from the wall. 

Tears flowed freely down his face, proof of the agony that seared through him with every merciless strike. The man before him showed no mercy, his blows landing on the exposed, vulnerable flesh of the man's back. 

"YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT!! YOU DARED TO BETRAY ME!!" The man's voice thundered, every syllable laced with seething frustration. 

A young boy, no more than seven or eight, stood frozen behind the torturer, his wide eyes locked on the brutal scene unfolding before him – a scene staged by his father. 

With one last savage strike, the tortured man's grieving form bore yet another vicious scar, a testament to the brutality he endured. Torturer, panting heavily, flung the whip across the room in a fit of rage, leaving the air heavy with tension and pain. 

Gasping for breath, the wounded man bore the searing pain etched across his back. Before him, the imposing figure glared, a well of fury emanating from his gaze. 

Just behind him, a stoic accomplice observed the beaten figure with an emotionless gaze, devoid of any trace of sympathy or mercy. Closing the distance, the man seized the wounded man's hair, forcing their eyes to lock in a harsh, unyielding gaze. 

"In my empire, betrayals demand a punishment. And I am the one who determines them. For I am the KING HERE!!!" His voice thundered, a declaration of absolute authority, as the weight of his dominion pressed heavily upon the room. 

"My gun!" The command was sharp and immediate. The expressionless man standing behind the boy promptly handed over the firearm. With efficient precision, the man loaded the gun and discharged all its bullets into the doomed figure's head. 

The little boy, though visibly shocked by the brutal display before him, bore no trace of fear in his eyes. As the shots rang out, followed by a stark silence that was punctuated only by the lingering scent of gunpowder. 

The room was now bathed in nothing but the chilling aftermath of violence, the floor stained with pools of crimson. That blank-faced guy remained unmoved, his face still a mask of impassivity, seemingly untouched by the horrors he had witnessed his master commit. 

The man halted the onslaught, exhaling heavily, and then returned the gun to the blank faced man. Turning to his son, he was met with a sight that left him both startled and strangely gratified. It was astonishing to see the boy, who had just witnessed this brutal side of his father, standing there unfazed, his gaze unyielding. 

There was a strange pride in the man's eyes as he regarded the resilience his son displayed. Though his face was now streaked with blood, the boy made no move to shield himself as his father approached. 

The raw display of power had left its mark, but the boy's unwavering stance spoke volumes about the indomitable spirit that resided within him. With a heavy hand, the man rested it on the boy's slender shoulder, his voice carrying a weighty solemnity. 

"Remember, Diego. In this world, you are nothing without power. It grants you everything – loyalty, respect, women, and fear..." His words hung in the air, steeped in a chilling amalgam of darkness and pride, his grip on the boy's shoulder tightening. 

"And this..." The man gestured towards the lifeless form, still seeping crimson, drawing Diego's gaze towards the corpse, then back to his father. 

"This is necessary to maintain your fear and power in this world. Betrayals and deceit must be eradicated. Their greed weakens you," the man intoned, his words leaving an indelible mark on the young Diego, evident in his eyes and expression.