𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐢𝐦

EIGHTEEN

"She fell in love with his demons."

18
Reign I Gusev

  "Please Reign, if I-I'd knew, I-I could never. I. Would. Never." Trent shook in terror, I stood before him with my men filling out the space of the room. I finished my drink placing the glass on the desk. I saw everything that happened. My Ami, she was uncomfortable to be around this cock sucker, hands that weren't mine touching her.

Trent is known for such sly behaviour, yet never does he face repercussions. He hasn't effected my family or business in any negative light, not that he's fucking sane, but daring rather. I'm assuming his gone mad, but tonight is his lucky night since I'm in a tolerable mood.

"What brings you to this auction Trent?" I asked him, folding my arms leaning against the edge of the desk. "It's been a while since we last seen each other."

"As you know, you gotta spend money to make money am I right?" The son of a bitch laughed.

I smile replying, "of course."

He followed, "I hope there's no bad blood given our history."

"Nyet, why would there be problems? Your family no?" I reached for the scotch, filling up two cups before handing him one. "How about a toast?"

Trent intervened. "May I?" I was silent, wanting to hear such pathetic choice of words. He cleared his throat glancing at everyone in the room. "I'm toasting to a new business venture, tonight we become extra successful men. More wealthier than before and this time, Reign, you take me in as a partner."

I smirked once he held his cup up, we shared a clink, "salud." He finished off, taking a swing of the dark liquor. At this point I'm starting to lose my patience —Trent needs to be wiped off the face of the earth.

I look up at Polka.

Right away he grabbed Trent by the back of the neck slamming the side of his face down on the wooden desk top. The glass drops from his hand shattering on the floor. Trent grunted trying to fight back, but the grip around his neck only grew tighter by his pointless struggle.

Finally, the last frustrated cry for help warmed my heart, I swallow the rest of my drink, feeling excited for what's to come next.

I lean down to Trent's ear, "This is deeper than some fucking bad blood my old friend, you touched my woman. You always had issues with keeping your hands to yourself. Don't you Trent?" I went to claim the beautiful machete sitting against the wall. "Which hand did you use?"

I rotated the knife around inspecting the design, very nice detailing —I think I may get one just like. It was still silent, I glance over my shoulder, he has yet to make a move. What a dangerous choice.

I snapped my fingers for my drill with a long thin attachment. I'm finding my comfort on the handle. I approached his bent over frame.

"Our history hm? Then you should know I don't fucking ask twice." Inserting the drill in his ear, pressing the on button, the sound was like music to my ears. The vibration and his excruciating screams. Blood splattered everywhere, I forced the drill deeper. My hand almost dipped in the color red.