Love Me Red ✔️

Web Of Lies & Blows

11

Kieran took the headseat as he unbuttoned his jacket. The men were scattered across the table, waiting for the Sottocapo to begin. A few were wondering why had he taken the headseat when it belonged to his father. Those were the men who were freshly recruited in the outfit. Maximo was out to Venice for Amedeo Mancini. He was watching over a politician who was running a presidential campaign for the upcoming general elections. The outfit was providing him protection as he had many life threats. He was also a lucky bastard who secured the seat through Maximo even before the elections. And when the capo dei capi was out, this seat naturally belonged to him, solely to him.

While a soft click of the door shut occurred, Kieran's head moved toward the sound, seeing Greenes joining the room. His greyish orbs intensively observing both men who were looking black and grey. Their faces disguised in a strong front but he could see right through the facade; especially through Trenton's. The lad had been buried six feet under in guilt. His aura exuded that. He reeked of it till his bones. Kieran was aware this American lad never played the role of an associate the way he could have. He never made a word out to benefit or harm the outfit even though Kieran knew he had the beans to. Italian or not, but he was born with something special in him. Something solid and rare that made it easy to play with blood. He had a knack of being a skilled hitman. That's why Kieran liked him. He saw the potential and if honest, he concluded they were somehow similar. Silent. Damaged. Played out. Vindictive. But there was one simple fact that ran counter to perfection in the art of physical fabrication—vulnerability. That's where he lacked.

Greene had always let his emotions get the best of his face while Kieran trained himself to keep them at bay from reaching the world. Emotions made targets easier for suckers like Alex, his father or the rivalry outfits. If he was his man, he would have taught Greene how destructive speaking emotions were and how to hide them from the world.

Like right now, he was walking to his seat with gloomy eyes, tensed shoulders, strained nape and down-curled lips. Open invitation to get slammed upon. This very integrant gave monsters satisfaction, it'd become easy to break the broken ones. Which was why they hunted for what went outside while Kieran had an eye for what went on inside. And all he could get through him was.

Scream.

Despair.

Fear.

Regret

Guilt.

Death.

He could hear Trenton's screams. He could feel his heart quivering in despair. Mind shrinking in fear and guilt and regret stabbing his conscience. All of them coaxed him to take his life and he tried many times but always stopped only for one reason. Her.

Kieran knew Trenton lived in hell for the past eighteen years. He had seen this gloom of despair in many eyes but they always went away the moment he slaughtered them. Kieran had heard many screams but they'd shut down whenever he extracted their life out of sorry bodies. But this...

The screams on the outside were always loud and sickening but these silent screams were consuming and hollowing, they never really came out, they only damaged a soul. It'd leave the insides to darken, to ashen, to worsen. Just what Kieran and he had become.

Alessandro had made his life a living hell and he was going to make it more.

Can he make it more?

A voice in Kieran's head challenged, confusing him more.

Offended and frustrated, He shot down an eye to his wristwatch while wondering where the hell was Alessandro. The data said he was in the house as he came late last night. He turned to Mariano. "Dov'è Alessandro?" All fourteen men in the room raked an eye around in search of him. (Where's Alessandro)