Fate's Unwritten Path

Chapter Thirteen

Lucas's POV:

The smell of blood hung thick in the air, a metallic scent that clung to the walls of the dimly lit basement. The cold concrete beneath my feet was slick with it, and the three men before me were barely recognizable, their faces swollen and bruised beyond recognition. 

They were stripped to their underwear, their bodies marred with cuts and burns, the result of hours of unrelenting pain. I stared down at them, my expression cold and devoid of emotion. 

These were the men who had dared to lay their hands on Sasha, who had dared to touch what was mine. My blood boiled at the thought, and I felt the familiar surge of anger rise within me, a beast barely contained beneath the surface.

They were whimpering now, the fight long gone from their eyes. I'd taken my time with them and made sure they felt every ounce of pain they deserved. But it wasn't enough. Not yet. I reached for the serrated knife on the table beside me, the blade glinting menacingly in the dim light. 

"You know why you're here," I said, my voice calm, almost conversational. The leader, the one they called "Boss," or also known as Richard. looked up at me through swollen eyes, a mixture of fear and defiance in his gaze. 

"Fuck... you," he spat, blood splattering from his split lips. I smiled, a slow, dangerous curve of my lips that made the two buddies flinch. "You're brave," I said, leaning down to bring my face level with his. "Stupid, but brave." He glared at me, hatred burning in his eyes. "Do whatever the fuck you want, Lucas. But you'll never break me."

I chuckled, the sound low and menacing. "Is that so?" I asked, lifting the knife and pressing it against his throat just enough to draw a thin line of blood. "I'm going to enjoy proving you wrong." With a swift motion, I dragged the blade down his chest, carving deep into his flesh. He screamed a guttural sound that echoed off the walls, but I didn't stop. I wasn't even close to being done. Blood poured from the wound, but I was careful and precise. 

I didn't want him to die just yet. Not until he understood the depth of his mistake. "You see," I said, wiping the bloodied knife on his cheek, "there are two kinds of pain. The kind that hurts, and the kind that changes you. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be a different man." I paused, considering. "Or maybe you won't be a man at all."

One of his buddies started sobbing uncontrollably, his body trembling with fear. Pathetic. I glanced at him, a sneer curling my lip. "You want this to stop?" Id asked him, knowing full well what his answer would be. "Please," he whimpered, his voice cracking. "I'll do anything. Please, just kill me. End it." 

The desperation in his voice was almost amusing. I turned back to the boss, raising an eyebrow. "You hear that? Your boy here is begging to die. That's loyalty for you." The boss's glare intensified, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes now. Fear. He wasn't as tough as he wanted me to believe, and I was going to exploit every crack in his armor. "Don't worry," I said to the buddy, my tone mockingly soothing. "You'll get your wish soon enough."

With that, I drove the knife into his side, twisting it sharply. His scream filled the room, and I watched dispassionately as the life drained from his eyes. I pulled the blade out, letting his body slump to the floor in a lifeless heap. 

The second buddy was trembling violently, his eyes wide with terror. "Please," he begged, his voice barely a whisper. "I'll do anything." I looked at him, my expression cold. "Anything?" He nodded frantically, tears streaming down his face. "Anything. Just don't kill me." I tilted my head, pretending to consider his plea. 

Then, without warning, I slit his throat in one clean motion. His eyes went wide with shock, his hands flying to the gaping wound as he choked on his own blood. He collapsed beside his dead companion, twitching as the life drained from him.

Two down, one to go. I turned back to the boss, who was now visibly shaken, the bravado gone from his eyes. He knew what was coming, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. I crouched down in front of him, my voice low and deadly. 

"You should've thought about the consequences before you touched her," I said, my words like a knife to his pride. "Now, you're going to die knowing you failed. But first, you're going to beg." He stared at me, the last vestiges of defiance flickering in his gaze. "I'll... never beg," he rasped, though the tremor in his voice betrayed him. "We'll see about that," I replied calmly.

I spent the next hour breaking him down, piece by piece. Every scream, every plea for mercy, only fueled my determination. By the time I was done, he was a broken man, reduced to a sobbing, bleeding mess on the floor. 

"Please," he gasped, barely able to speak through the pain. "Just... kill me." l looked down at him, feeling no pity, no remorse. This was justice, and I was the executioner. 

"You know," I said, standing up and wiping the blood off my hands, "I thought you'd last longer. But I guess everyone breaks eventually." I pulled out my gun, the cold metal comforting in my hand. "Goodbye," I said, and with a single shot to the head, ended his miserable life. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the steady drip of blood pooling on the floor. I holstered my gun and pulled out my phone, dialing one of my men.

"He's done," I said when he picked up. "Clean it up." "Understood," came the reply, and I ended the call, my mind already moving on to the next task at hand. Sasha. I scrolled through my contacts until l found the name I was looking for. 

The phone rang twice before it was answered. "Report," I ordered, my tone clipped. "She's been in bed all day, boss," my man replied. "Ordered some food in, but other than that, she hasn't moved." A part of me relaxed slightly at the news. She was safe, at least for now. "Keep an eye on her," I instructed. "Make sure nothing happens." "Yes, boss."

I ended the call, a sense of unease still gnawing at me. Sasha was tough, but even she had her limits. I'd pushed her too far, and now I was paying the price. But there was no time for guilt. I had other matters to attend to. I turned back to the lifeless body of the boss, my expression hardening. 

"Get rid of this filth," I said to my men as they entered the room. "I don't want any trace left behind." They nodded, quickly setting to work. 

As they did, I turned and left the basement, the heavy door closing behind me with a finality that felt like a weight lifting from my shoulders. But as I walked away, I couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over. Sasha might have been safe for now, but the world we lived in was unforgiving. And as long as she was a part of it, I would have to keep fighting to protect her, no matter the cost.

I made my way back to my office, my mind already planning the next move. The night was far from over, and there was still much to be done. But for now, I poured myself a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid burning as it went down, and allowed myself a moment of quiet. In this world, there was no room for weakness. 

But as I sat there, staring into the empty glass, I couldn't help but wonder if I was losing more of myself with every life I took, every sin I committed in the name of power and control. I poured another drink, downing it in one go. 

There was no room for doubt either. Sasha was counting on me, whether she knew it or not. And I would be damned if I let her down again.