Her Deviant Husband

1. Interesting

Mature content: Gore

Reyansh's pov.

The basement of the out house was fucking cold.
Dark, too, and reeking of blood, sweat, and piss.
For most, it would've been unbearable.

For me, it was routine.

Two men sat in front of me, strapped to rusted metal chairs, their faces swollen beyond recognition.

One was a dealer-cartel scum who got too cocky.
The other, a fucking rat-an insider who thought he could play both sides.
Both were gagged, their muffled whimpers filling the air.

I stared at them, my expression flat, my emotions long dead.
Emotions don't get me anywhere till I benefit from it.
This was just business.

"Vihaan," I muttered, without turning my gaze from the bleeding bastards in front of me.
"The doors are secure?"

"Yes, sir," came his calm response from the corner of the room, a shadow lurking in the background. "No one's coming in or out."

"Good."

I reached for the knife on the table.
The blade gleamed under the dim light, sharp and heavy in my hand.

The dealer's eyes widened as he saw it. He squirmed against his restraints, his body shaking uncontrollably, but the fear only pissed me off.

"Fucking pathetic," I hissed, walking toward him. "You had one job. Move my product. Not get caught. And now? Now you're here, wasting my time."

I crouched in front of him, leveling the knife against his cheek. His body stiffened, sweat pouring down his face, mixing with the blood. I pressed the blade into his skin, slowly dragging it down until I saw a thin line of crimson appear.

He screamed, the sound muffled by the gag, but his eyes-wide with panic-told me everything I needed to know.

"Look at me," I grabbing a fistful of his hair and yanking his head up, forcing him to meet my gaze. "I said, fucking look at me!"

His eyes darted open, and I could see it-the pure terror in his face. Good.

"You think this is about the product?" I snarled, the blade cutting deeper into his flesh. "This is about loyalty. You fucked me. But more than that, you let some other family fuck me over too."

He whimpered, trembling like a fucking child. But when I mentioned the rival family, I saw it-a twitch in his expression. He knew.

I chuckled darkly, pulling the knife away. "Oh, you know who I'm talking about, don't you?"

The other man, the rat, was sitting silent.
Too silent.
He thought if he stayed quiet, I might forget about him.
Not a fucking chance.

"Don't worry, rat," I muttered, turning my eyes toward him. "You're next."

I shifted my focus back to the dealer, shaking my head with mock pity. "You should've been smarter. But don't worry, I'll make sure you never make this mistake again."

I dropped the knife for a second and reached for the pliers on the table. The dealer's eyes widened in horror. He tried to pull his hand away, but I grabbed it, slamming it down against the chair.

"Let's start with your fingers," I said, my voice cold and detached.

The gag slipped from his mouth, and he screamed as I clamped the pliers down on his thumb. With one quick motion, I yanked, feeling the bone snap under the pressure. His thumb came off, blood pouring from the wound as he screamed, shaking violently in his chair.