What Is Life? Under Edit

Chapter 15: Edward's Sinister Play

What Is Life?

Third Person

Heaven sighed in relief as she signed the final discharge papers, eager to leave the hospital behind. Brendan and Brian flanked her, supportive and protective, as they made their way out of the hospital room.

As they approached the entrance, Heaven's eyes met Edward James', who stood by the door, his quick wit and sharp tongue at the ready. "Well, well, well. Look who's finally free to terrorise the streets again," he said, his sarcasm laced with a hint of humour.

Heaven smiled wryly, her brow furrowed in concern. "Edward, what's going on with the investigation? I haven't heard anything, and I want to know what's happening."

Edward's expression turned serious, but his words stumbled out awkwardly. "Ah, well...it's...uh...ongoing. Yeah, that's it. Ongoing."

Heaven's eyes narrowed, her voice firm. "That's not good enough, Edward. I want answers. If no one's going to keep me updated, I'll go to the police station myself and handle the matter."

Brendan glanced at Heaven, concern etched on his face. "Hey, Brian, maybe you should take Heaven to the car. She looks like she's getting tired."

Brian nodded, solicitously offering Heaven his arm. "Yeah, good idea. Let's get you out of here, Heaven."

Heaven smiled weakly, leaning on Brian as they walked away.

Brendan watched them go, then turned to Edward. "Hey, Edward, can I talk to you in your office for a minute?"

Edward raised an eyebrow but nodded. "Sure, what's up?"

Brendan's expression turned serious. "Let's talk in private."

Edward led the way to his office, closing the door behind them

Brendan stood tall, his eyes locked onto Edward's as he entered the opulent office. The scent of heather and cigar smoke hung in the air, and the soft hum of a jazz record played in the background. The room was a testament to Edward's wealth, with rich, mahogany panels lining the walls and a plush, cream-coloured carpet underfoot. The desk itself was a masterpiece of craftsmanship, with intricate carvings and a glossy finish.

Brendan sat down in the black leather chair in front of Edward's desk, his eyes never leaving Edward's face. Edward gestured for him to sit, his eyes gleaming with curiosity in the faint light.

"What's going on, Brendan?"

"I know you're a part of Alessandro's Mafia," Brendan said, his voice firm. "And I want you to stay away from Heaven. She doesn't need your kind of trouble in her life."

Edward raised an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his face. "Oh, how sweet. You think you're protecting her? How quaint." He leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking in protest.

Edward pulled out his gun lazily, waving it in the air, yawning. "Sorry, I didn't get to take my nap today. All this drama is exhausting." The gun glinted in the faint light, its muzzle pointed carelessly at Brendan.

Brendan's eyes widened in fear, his heart racing in his chest. His mind racing with worst-case scenarios. "Whoa, easy there," he said, his voice shaking slightly.

Edward's eyes narrowed, his smile still plastered on his face. "Someone's broken omertà, Brendan. And I can't let you leave here until I know what you know. So, spill the beans, darling."

He leaned forward, his eyes glinting with intensity. "Tell me who told you, and I might consider letting you live. But if you refuse... Well, that's a surprise." He smirked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "And trust me, you won't like it."

The room was silent for a moment, the only sound was the soft hum of the jazz record. Brendan's eyes were fixed on the gun, his mind racing with ways to escape. But he knew he was trapped at the mercy of a ruthless and cunning man.

Edward's smile grew wider as he leaned back in his chair, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Brendan sweetheart, I want you to take out your phone and text your brother."

Brendan's eyes narrowed, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. "What? Why?"

Edward's gaze never wavered. "Tell him to go home without you. Say you have some stuff to take care of. And, darling, try to send him any warning, any little hint of what's going on, and I'll kill him. Slowly. Painfully. Then I'll send his head in a basket to Mommy and Daddy."

Brendan's eyes widened in terror as he typed out the message, his hands shaking. Edward's eyes flicked to the phone, then back to Brendan's face, his expression unyielding.

As soon as Brendan hit send, Edward's demeanour changed. He stood up from behind his desk, his movements fluid and menacing. The gun in his hand seemed to gleam in the faint light, its muzzle pointed directly at Brendan's head.

"Well, well, well. Look who's following orders," Edward said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm impressed, Brendan. You're so obedient. Like a little puppy."

Brendan's eyes flashed with anger, but he knew better than to speak. Edward's smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with amusement.

"Don't worry, darling. I won't hurt your brother. I promise. Now, let's get down to business, shall we?"

The gun pressed against Brendan's temple, the cold metal sending a chill down his spine. He felt a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, his heart pounding in his ears.

"Please," Brendan whispered, his voice shaking with fear. "Don't do this."

Edward's smile grew wider, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, but I'm just getting started. And trust me, darling. You're going to love this."

With a swift motion, Edward raised the gun and brought it down hard on Brendan's head. Brendan's eyes widened in pain as he felt a surge of darkness wash over him. He tried to cry out, but his voice was silenced by the sound of his own skull cracking against the gun.

As Brendan's world went black, Edward's eyes gleamed with a sinister light. "Sweet dreams, darling," he whispered, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

And with that, Edward turned his back, gun still in hand, and walked away, leaving Brendan's unconscious body slumped in the chair.

******

Thanks for reading! Please vote, comment, share, and follow for more!