Hell's Redeemer

Chapter 6

The room reeked of perfume, alcohol, and fury. Valentino paced back and forth, his slender fingers gripping a crystal glass of bourbon that sloshed violently as he moved. His usual air of smug superiority was gone, replaced by something rawer, uglier. The dim lighting of the penthouse suite threw sharp shadows across his face, emphasizing the furious twitch of his jaw. Behind him, two of his favorite actresses sat on the plush, velvet couch, eyeing him nervously. They knew better than to speak when Valentino was like this.

In one hand, he held a phone, pressed tightly against his ear, his voice alternating between low growls and full-blown shouting. On the other end of the line, Vox remained uncharacteristically calm, trying to soothe the inferno that was Valentino in full rage mode.

"I don't give a damn what they thought they saw!" Valentino shouted, his wings flaring slightly, casting long shadows across the room. "I've got three of my best men-best men-wearing their heads on backwards, and you're telling me to calm down?"

On the other end of the phone, Vox's voice crackled, smooth and detached as ever. "Val, listen to me. You're not going to fix this by screaming into a phone. You've lost men before. It's Hell, for Christ's sake."

Valentino growled under his breath, his eyes darting towards the two girls sitting nervously on the couch. Both of them were looking anywhere but at him, their gazes flickering nervously between the floor and each other. His temper flared even more at the sight of them sitting there, doing nothing to solve his problem.

"Shut up," he muttered into the phone, pulling the receiver away for a brief second. His grip on the glass tightened until his knuckles turned white. His wings twitched again, and without warning, Valentino threw the bourbon glass across the room with a violent snap of his arm. The glass hit the wall with a loud crash, shards of crystal raining down dangerously close to the two women, causing them to flinch.

Val ignored them, his chest heaving with barely restrained anger. He lifted the phone back to his ear, his voice returning to its usual venomous sneer. "Calm down? You want me to calm down after losing those guys?"

Vox sighed on the other end, the sound crackling through the phone line. "I get it, Val. You're pissed. But you can't lose your head over this. We'll figure it out. Now, tell me what you know. Maybe we can narrow this down."

Valentino took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice level, but the rage still simmered just beneath the surface. He stalked toward the large window that overlooked the sprawling cityscape of Pentagram City, his wings rustling behind him with agitation. His reflection glared back at him, distorted and monstrous in the glass. "What I know," Valentino hissed, "is that some asshole, some nobody, walked up to three of my men and left them with their heads twisted around like rag dolls."

He could hear Vox pause on the other end of the line, probably pulling up his own information, running through contacts, trying to find a lead. But Valentino didn't have the patience for it. His grip on the phone tightened until it threatened to snap under his grasp.

"I swear to you, Vox," Val continued, his voice dropping low. "When I find this guy, I'm going to make an example out of him. I'm going to send you his teeth. Maybe a couple of fingers. Hell, I'll send you the whole damn body."

There was a short pause on the other end, and then Vox spoke, his tone pragmatic, if a bit disinterested. "And who exactly is this mystery assailant, Val? You got a name? Any kind of description?"

Valentino's lips curled into a snarl. "My guys didn't get a good look at him. Not much to say beyond the fact he was acting like he's the next deadly sin, strutting around like he owned the place. Whoever he is, he's walking around Pentagram City right now, thinking he can get away with this."