Promises we made (Book one)

Two

Landon.

As I stand before him, his eyes widen in terror, his breaths shallow and erratic.

"Please" He begs, his voice bearly a whisper making me smirk in satisfaction. "You don't have to do this"
My eyes fell on his pale face. With how he gulped, and eyes widened to the sizes of saucers I can tell my glare became murderous. He had the nerve to tell me what I don't have to do? After everything he's done.

"Oh? But I do. And you know damn well why I do." My voice was full of venom. Each word sounding more aggressive than the last, I tilted his chin up harshly forcing him to look me in the eyes, "You damaged so many lives. Hurt women and children for your pathetic fragile ego." His strained sobs became louder as I plunge the steel knife into his hand. Pinning him completely to the chair. He stutters more excuses towards me, pissing me off even further. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone," his voice breaking begging for any inclination of mercy I have left for this disgusting man. Seeing nothing, as expected.

"It was just buissness." I couldn't help but laugh at his attempt to justify his actions. I don't allow men who abuse women and children to work for me. They're to be respected and protected not abused and used. "Buissness?" I sneer. "Tell that to the little girl who lost her mother because of you. Tell that to the brother who lost his sister because you decided beating that woman to death would make you a better man." I cut his left hand which was covered in blood clean off. Tired of listening to this pathetic boys' excuses. "Your excuses mean nothing. They just prove to me that you're a spineless bastard who needs to beat a woman to feel like a man."

The room started to fill with the metallic sent of blood, the man's anguished cries echoed off the walls. I remained unmoving, unyielding in my resolve. With a cold determination I picked up another blade. This time a scalpel from the nearby table. The man's eyes filled up with tears again realising his time was becoming limited each second, he was here. "Please" he begged for the final time. I grew tired of his voice so cut his tongue off with no hesitation watching as it drops to the ground. Then move the blade down his arms digging it into the flesh deeply, watching as blood spews out his arm dripping onto the floor. He was attempting to get away tears streaming down his face at a rapid pace, sending a satisfactory shiver down my spine. Slowly I started to carve away chunks of his flesh listening to the agonising screams he managed to release.

"Sorry to ruin the party, Don."

Santiago, my younger brother and second in command commented, amusement laced in his voice "but your needed at the other side of town." His voice was serious, I'm guessing the drug deal went wrong again. I let out a frustrated sigh, glancing at Santiago with a mix of annoyance and resignation. "Fine" I muttered, dropping the bloodied knife to the floor with a sickening thud.

The room echoed with the man's pained whimpers as I stepped away from him, the metallic sent of blood heavy in the air. Wiping my hands on a rag that was already covered in dried blood from my last situation, I turned to my brother fully eyeing him down in somewhat distaste in his poor choice in clothing "this better be worth my time Saint, I was enjoying myself." I snapped sternly. Watching as his posture remained the same, amusement dancing in his eyes "you don't scare me, Don. You can give the poor bastard a break he looks like he needs it" he sighed.

I already rolled my eyes before I could stop myself, I wasn't surprised that another deal went to shit it was becoming a daily occurrence that I needed to sort out. I followed Santiago out the dimly lit basement, the man's cries becoming faded as I left replaced by the cold calculating thoughts of handling yet another crisis.

As we made our way through the maze of hallways, Santiago's usually carefree demeanor turned somber. "Don," he started, glancing around to ensure we were alone, "we need to talk. There's been chatter about a mole within our ranks." His voice was serious. I stopped in my tracks, my eyes narrowing. "A mole? Who's talking?"

"Some of the guys on the streets. They've noticed strange things—deals going south, shipments being intercepted. It's too coordinated to be a coincidence," he replied, his voice low and urgent. "Do we have any leads on who it might be?" I asked, my mind already racing through the possible suspects. Santiago nodded grimly. "A few names have come up, but nothing concrete yet. We need to be careful. If there's a rat among us, they could be feeding the feds or worse, our rivals."

I clenched my fists, feeling a surge of anger. "Listen, Santiago," I said, my voice dripping with menace, "we need to send a message. I want every one of those names brought to me. We'll make examples out of them. I want screams echoing through the streets, so everyone knows what happens to traitors." Santiago's eyes widened slightly, but he nodded. "Understood, Don. I'll gather the men and start rounding them up. We'll get to the bottom of this." "Good," I said, my voice cold and steely. "Make sure they understand there's no place for betrayal in our organization. And Santiago," I added, as we resumed our walk, "I want to be there for every single interrogation. This ends tonight." My voice came out as a snarl.

We stepped into my dimly lit office; I slammed the door behind us, the sound echoing like a gunshot. I turned to Santiago, my eyes blazing with fury. "I want the names, now." I demanded, leaving no room for argument. "Find out about their families. I want addresses, routines, every single detail," I barked out "you have less than an hour." Santiago nodded, his face pale but resolute. "Ill get it done Don." He said, pulling out his phone with trembling hands. "We'll hit them where it hurts. If they're betraying us, they'll regret it."

I reach for the bottle of whiskey that resides on my desk, pouring a generous amount into a glass. I downed it in one gulp, the fiery liquid fuelling my anger. "Good." I snarled, slamming the glass down and pacing the room like a caged animal "make sure our best enforcers are ready. We have no more room for screw ups. We need to move fast and hard. I want their families dragged out the street if that's what it fucking takes to make them talk. We show no mercy. Tonight, they learn what it means to cross us." I sat down in my chair behind my desk, resting my chin in the palm of my hand, glaring up at Santiago, I saw him swallow hard, already dialling numbers and barking orders. Pouring another drink to ease the racing thoughts of the violent plans I had. This was war and I was going to win no matter the cost.