one in our FOREVERMORE

Chapter One Torren

     "I want her name, Costa, now," I drawl, my patience waning with this piece of shit.

Yet, as I take in the sight of the guy tied to a chair in my dimly lit basement, devoid of any windows or hope, something stirs within me. Especially when he's that beaten up, and surprisingly looking even worse now than before with his ugly ass face. Anyway, I simply enjoy seeing people suffer, particularly when they don't obey the Don of the Korean-Italian Mafia. You don't do what I say, you die. You say one word I don't like, you die. You look at me the wrong way, you die. I can't tolerate disobedience. It's that simple, but this guy over here is making me bored. The fact that I no longer want to endure the presence of this kind of trash, prompts me to stand up from my chair and move closer to him.

Drawing my silver Colt Python, I aim it directly between his eyes, expecting at least a flinch. But the guy remains unfazed.

"I don't know her name, cazzo. I don't even know who she is," he says with his Italian accent, trying to breathe steadily with each word.

Everyone in this fucked-up world has a weakness, his is obviously not staring down the barrel of a gun. But...

"Costa, I'm going to let you out once you tell me what I want to hear. But if you don't, then maybe I'll have to pay a visit to your little puppy.'' His eyes widen as much as they can with those bruises. Got you. "See, I don't want that too. I'm not a dog killer, but you're leaving me no choice here. You understand that, right?'' I lower my gun after he looks down in defeat, dropping his shoulders.

"Roma, Roma Rossi. P-Please, don't hurt Greta,'' he stutters in fear.

"You named your dog Greta? Fuck, I should kill you only for that.'' With that I point my gun at him.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion. "You said you'd let me go when-when I told you her name."

I sigh at his greenness, enjoying this moment. "Well yeah, I said that. But you were the one who assumed I was telling the truth."

The bullet pierces through the center of his fucking forehead. I turn around and face my brother, signaling for him to take care of the body.

He nods and says in surprise. "How did you know abou-''

"You should always know your enemies and especially those you torture, Fratello," I say, wiping a bit of blood from my hands.

Jae-suk doesn't know things like that, he's a fast learner, but he's only recently started accompanying me and diving into the underworld of the Mafia. He actually couldn't care less about it, and I just want him to carve his own path in life. But I started to search for the killer of our parents a few months ago and he chose not to stay in Seoul. Instead, supporting me in any way he could. While he may lack expertise in the art of violence or leadership, his purity and innocence stand out in this cutthroat world. It's a mystery how we are related.

However, our parents died when I was a teenager, he was just a kid so I kind of raised him, determined to provide him a life worth living, even in the absence of a mother or father. I wanted to give him at least that.

When our grandmother died earlier this year, she uttered to me with her last breaths that she doesn't think our parents' death was an accident. From that moment on, I've done everything ever since to find something, anything that could lead me somewhere. Frustration loomed over me until I found the nowdead guy. I knew that he held the key to revealing the name of an Italian sniper I had been searching for. He knows, or knew, every sniper in the country, and now I have it – Roma Rossi. I'm not sure yet how she's involved in this, but I'm certain that she'll lead me somewhere. Hopefully to the guy who did it. If indeed someone orchestrated the death of my parents, they definitely consider themselves as smart for killing the Queen and Don of the Korean-Italian Mafia, but no one can hide from me. It's said that nothing's impossible. This is.