Nice Cut

Chapter Two

Ace
18 years old

Just like every other day for as long as I can remember I'm sitting on a porch swing at my best friend's house. Well his parents house.

I turned 18 a couple of weeks ago and Bentley is a week away from joining me in adult hood. Although his transition is most likely going to be a party and possibly a car. Mine was being told I needed to choose a target to take out.

No one other than Bentley knows that my dad is an underground billionaire, and the way he got his name was anything but normal. Instead of working his way to the top in some corporate job he decided to pull a hood over his head and eliminate his competition.

I guess you could say that he created his own version of the mafia. He has men that do his dirty work for him. Then he runs a mom & pop shop here in town that all of them shop at slash work in. That helps him explain the house, car, work trips, and his sudden appearance in the corporate world.

So of course instead of aging into my inheritance he wants me to kill someone to prove that I am able to take his place when he is ready to step down. In his words, "I don't want to wake up one day to find everything I have ever worked for gone because you didn't have the guts to pull the trigger." I know that screams loving father. He has never let me forget my place. I knew that I was to pick a target or get left behind by the age six.

"Yo, look at that!" Bentley says a little to loud, while pointing to the house across the street.

The first thought I had once my eyes landed to where he was pointing was 'I didn't know the lady across the street had a kid.' My second, "I just found my target.'

Looking through the window of the house across the street you could clearly see the lady who always seemed to be partying holding a little girl no older than five years old by the arm dragging her towards the door. The little girl wasn't reacting at all showing that this was a normal thing. Once they have almost reached the front door the lady pauses and swings open a door. A door I can only assume is a shoe closet seeing as it is so close to the front door and that's exactly how Bentleys house is set up. When the door slams shut, the little girl is no longer in neighbor lady's grasp.

By the time the neighbor straightened her skirt and stepped out to her car I was on the phone with my dad informing him I have chosen my target. The only thing left to do was let Bentley in on the plan I have started piecing together in my mind and hope that we can play this off. If this works hopefully one day I'll be able to apologize to him for dragging him into this.

After briefing Bentley on my half ass plan, and explaining that we can fill in the dots later once I get rid of the neighbor lady and he gets the girl safe I'm off to meet up with my dads men who have been following who I now know is Christine Marks since I made the call.

"So what's the plan little boss?" Jack my dad's right hand man asks as I'm walking up to the car.

"Christine Marks, she's the type of scum I don't want in my city." Never before today was I so sure of the path my father had created for my life.

This lady was the most unbothered S.O.B. I had ever met. She had no record of even having a child. She beat her, threw her in a closet, and- from the glimpse of the little girl I got- she withheld many meals from her as well. Yet she was walking through a night club like she owned the place. Even by passing the red tape put up for the VIP section. She obviously doesn't know I've been stepping when she steps following her for a good twenty minutes. She never once looked over her shoulder. She didn't even hesitate when one of my fathers men talked her into going to one of the private rooms the lined the VIP area.

Slipping on my hood with a sewn in mesh face covering I officially looked like a dead man walking. You could be standing a couple feet in front of me and it would still look like just an empty hood. A man with no face. This is something of my own invention. If I was going to act like the Grimm fucking Reaper I was going to look like him too. I grab the door knob twisting it slowly and pushing open the door. The good thing about our current location is even if the door did make a sound the music is so loud you would have to be staring at it to even notice.

Christine was sitting on the small sofa facing away from me but looking out over the rest of the club. Another bonus for me, two way mirrors. She can see everything out but no one can see in.

Pulling out my *gun name* and pressing it to the back of her head, and lowering my voice a couple octaves. I gave her a small warning to stay still while nodding to the man we tasked to bring her in here to watch the door.

"W-wha-who?" She's scared shitless, and it fuels something inside me that I didn't know existed.

"I don't take well to people who think beating on young children makes you untouchable."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about I don't know any young children." She's crying at this point. And I can tell you it's fucking annoying.

"Not even the little girl you threw in the closet right before coming here? Don't try denying it. I have eyes everywhere. I. See. Everything." Emphasizing my last three words I felt her body go tense against the barrel of my gun. "You don't need to say anything. Nothing you say or do right now will matter. Your fate was sealed the moment you closed that closet door."

With that I pulled the trigger. Her body slumped to the ground, and even though I knew she was gone I couldn't help myself but to add. "Your little girl, she's safe and she will continue to be safe until the day I die. But one thing about the Grimm Reaper, he never dies."