RUINED ALREADY [18+]

|Prologue|

In all chaos there is calculation.
~ Lorde

♠Emilio♠

Juan Carnilio Residence, Mexico

"I've been hearing stories about you, Del Guardo. But tell me, how effective are your weapons?"

Effective enough to blow all the fucking tissues of your feeble brain out.

That was what I wanted to tell the man sitting across from me who wore a smirk on his face as he regarded me with a sardonic indifference I was all too familiar with. It was the same irritating overused most clichéd reason known to small minded people.
I was too young.

"I don't sell cheap knock offs like the rest of your North American manufacturers," I told him. The automatic riffle tucked against my spine itched my skin and my fingers now trailing the sleek lines of the weapon tingled with a necessity to reach around and withdraw my gun and empty the barrel in Juan Carnilo's temple.

Instead I smiled but I was seething inside. I probably resembled a raging hellhound. The tall mirror behind Carnilio's head offer me a view. My eyes were red-rimmed, wild and swimming with a hunger I knew so well, had become intimate with until I didn't know ego I was without it. My lips were pulled back baring white teeth and I could feel the tiny veins st the side of my temple throb in pain.

"I can assure you I buy quality weapon from my supliers, chico."
"Then why did you send a message for me?"

Juan stood and chuckled like a mad man. And I knew instantly that he didn't want to buy weapons.

"Where is your...father?"
He rapped his fingers together like a man who was familiar with patience but with a silent desperation to draw blood.

Surely he didn't just request my services just so he can bagger me about that filth of a human being.

"I don't know where he is so you best forget we had this conversation."

I signaled to my men to wrap up the arms. And I watched Juan's movement as his right eyes twitch and when his hand reach around his side the cold tip of my gun was already pressed to his head. My index finger dancing over the trigger, fighting the need, the hunger for blood.

"Don't even fucking think about it," I hiss venomously.
By them it was my men against his and he knew he wasn't going to win. He called his men off and all weapons were retracted.

"Let's get out of here."

Once everything was wrapped up I passed one final glare at Juan who was red as a fucking beet root as fury surged through him.
"Your father and I have unfinished business," he said calmly but I was smart to know he was anything but.
I stared him right in the eyes. "My father and a lot of people has unfinished business. Don't think you're special."

His nostrils flared and he loosen his tie as he shouted an order to one of his men in harsh Spanish.

"Get me my whore!"

As I left the building through the corridor I saw her, the most beguiling creature I had ever seen in my life, going up the stairwell. She turned her head and I saw the prints on her left cheek. The raw red fingerprints painted in her skin.

I paused in my stride and I saw something in her eyes, a sadness but the there was also a yearning. She looked at me as though she wanted me to save her. Stated at me as though I was some hero sent to rescue her. Like I was her hope.

Pity. I never considered myself a hero. I preferred playing the villain. There were no perks for being good.
This girls soul was in her eyes staring at me, silently pleading.
So although I had no illusions of her inhuman predicament given who her master was I continued down the hallway and drove away into the hot desert.

And oddly the thing on my mind wasn't Juan Carnilio or my father. It was Juan's whore.