[ DISCONTINUED ]
❝He took one look at her and he knew she was the perfect kind of trouble: a good girl who knew exactly when to be bad.❞
Zayn Malik. Ruthless leader of one of the largest mafia organizations within Nevada. Who also owns the most popu...
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💰 Z A Y N
As I step into the room my eyes are forced to adjust to the dark lighting while I find the people I'm looking for. Christopher and Nico stand at the far side of the room, holding the authority until I step into the space. Another one of my men stands behind the person I'm looking for, but I honestly can't remember his name.
That shit happens when you have so many people working underneath you.
I say that as if I could be bothered to learn some of their names. As long as they're clean, respectful, smart and loyal, I couldn't give a fuck.
Noah—the one I've come upstairs to visit—sits on a lone, wooden dining chair in the middle of the room. His hands are tied securely behind his back and his ankles are fastened to the legs of the chair. I can see how tight the rope is against him as he gives all his effort to free himself.
That's likely Nico's handiwork. He's always been good when it comes to tying people up.
Must be a fucking kink of his.
I'm not sure he realizes what's about to come, nor the severity of the situation—a blank yet anxious expression is all his face tells me. As if I wasn't used to that look. Majority of those who see me are instantly intimidated. I've always been one to hold an authoritative position and the confidence I possess is sure to make more than a few uneasy.
He recognizes me as I step further into the light, blinking rapidly and exhaling sharply as if he's imagining what I'm about to do to him. The fact that I'm even here and that this requires my attention means that I'm pissed and this isn't good.
Everyone here can sense that, mixed with the anger and disgust that radiates from my body. The mood within the room instantaneously shifts as everyone feeds off what I'm feeling—the atmosphere becoming one of loyalty to me.
That's an ego boost.
Without saying a word, I rub my hands together and saunter around Noah. As I make my way around his backside, I notice just how much he's been straining against the rope. His wrists are covered in deep cuts that seep blood down his hands and off his fingertips where they've begun to stain my flooring.
Guess I'll need housekeeping again . . .
I don't start things off well with the man, stomping the heel of my foot down over his bare toes as he screams out in anguish. I'm sure I've likely broken one of his toes when I hear a slight snapping sound beneath my shoe.
Guess I misstepped.
"Jesus fuckin' Christ!" He cries, scrunching his face up in the torment of pain.
