In God We Trust [SPORADIC UPDATES]

TRES

chapter three ✗ despiadado

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"WOW," I SNICKERED, "You're more of a fucking moron than I originally thought." The room fell into a deadly silence. So still and motionless not even a trace of breathing could be found except for mine- The surrounding men were quite literally scared shitless due to my comment. Seriously, did he think that I would willingly sign off on this shipment for him? Not only was he stupid, but he was incredibly naïve. "Why in the fuck would I help you?"

I wore a smug grin on my face like I had just won the fucking lottery, but God knows my situation was far from lucky. Still though, maybe if I smiled enough, I'd convince myself that I could actually make it alive through this despite all of the obstacles thrown at me.

He pressed a gun against my forehead. "I wouldn't be so disrespectful if I were you, Carrillo,"

The fact that I fucking shivered from the way he said my last name had me wanting to kick my own ass. People often referred to my familia and I by our surname, so I often heard it, but the way he rolled r sound had pathetic trembles running down my spine.

"You see, not only do I have contacts in Montréal that have eyes on your dear father, But I also have ties to many dangerous people in Colombia. It would be sad to see poor Christian with a bullet through his fucking skull, no?" Although he was frighteningly calm, his voice had an underlying of menace and pure hatred.

My heart thudded, "You wouldn't." I choked.

I couldn't even try to assure myself that he was bluffing, but I knew that men like him didn't just say shit like that to make people scared, it meant that he was actually in a position to kill. It was strange how scary it was- the concept of homicide suddenly seemed so trivial, so blood-curdling even though I had been surrounded by it my entire life. My father and brother murdered constantly, it was what they did for a living, along the rest of my Colombian and Japanese family. But now that I was faced with the mouth of a gun, promising me ultimate death, I was afraid.

I was now in the same situation that countless of my family's victims had been. It was so paradoxically tragic that it would seem comical to anyone else, but I was too consumed with my will to live to concentrate on anything else. This, my kidnapping, was karma. Being tied to a chair and threatened to either become a traitor or the cause of my family's empire downfall was karma's final 'fuck you' to my face and I had no choice but to suck it up and take it.

Mateo clicked the safety off, the loud click resonating against the concrete walls. "Try me."

He meant business, I was sure of it now. Mateo doesn't feel sorry for one moment, because having feelings in this industry made you weak. And he couldn't afford to be weak, I knew that now- his threat was one of truth, and he would not hesitate to kill my family if it meant it benefited him. And I wanted to hate him for it, but I couldn't because that would be hypocritical in and on itself, as my brother and father would've done the exact same thing.