Beneath the Surface // Moonsun

Chapter 2

Byulyi's POV

Everything gets easier once you've done it a few times: murder, torture, extortion, bowling. The man, hands tied and weeping on his knees in front of me, is a sight I've seen more than a couple times in the past ten years and honestly yeah, it does get way easier. I think I'd care more if he were a puppy.

He's whining about something - his kids or some shit - but all I can think about is how good that quarter-pounder from Al's is going to taste when I finally finish this. I mean the bacon is crispy as fuck and that barbecue sauce -

"-two kids! They need me in their lives!"

I swallow the pseudo remains of that imaginary burger as I focus back in on him. "Look Marty, I know you have kids but you were affiliating with Lin's clan. Were you not?"

He hesitates and I can see the automatic lie on the tip of his tongue, but then he lets out a choked sigh. "I did."

"Good boy. At least you're honest in the end, huh?" I lean back in my chair, looking around the damp, cement basement we're in.

It's a small, underground attachment to one of the warehouses we own on the coast and it's pretty damn soundproof, particularly in the morning when the town's hustling and bustling can cover up gunshots pretty well. Save for me and the man in front of me, there's two other people down here.

There's Wheein, my right hand woman and keeper of records and information, who rarely gets her hands dirty directly but keeps track of group relations and remains in charge if I ever have to go away for a while. Her short, pale blonde hair shrouds her light brown face like a curtain and her sharp eyes make her look pretty dangerous for such a short woman. She holds a tablet in her hand, swiping absentmindedly and unbothered by the man's whimpers.

The other woman who holds the gun to the back of the man's head with a cool smirk is Krystal. We're an off-and-on fling because the sex is good but she's batshit crazy. She catches my eye and winks at me. It's currently an on again thing.

"Can we just kill him?" Krystal asks, voice flat and without empathy. "I'm sick of his whining."

"Waiting on the witness," Wheein calls out, then under her breath so only I can hear, "homicidal maniac."

I nudge her with my elbow but snort anyway. Can't help that it's true. I do my best to keep her in control but Krystal is closer to a wild horse restrained by a rope than an actual human being.

"He's already confessed."

I shrug. "We have rules in this family Krystal. You remember them, don't you?"

"All I remember is that the safe word is -"

"Just shut the fuck up." Even Wheein looks a bit shocked at my outburst and glances up from her tablet questioningly. Krystal frowns as her cheeks flush. "I don't care what you are to me after work. Right now I'm the boss and you're the mindless lackey who doesn't fucking talk back to me. Understand?"

"Yes."

Power can do some questionable things to a person and their morality. It can make them vain, paranoid, cruel. I know because I've experienced each of these things personally, each a phase of my lifelong career as a mob boss.

I was eighteen when I "inherited" the Crescent Clan by shooting the old boss, Hann, clean between the eyes. He was a complete idiot who became paranoid and stupid in old age instead of wizened. We were on the cusp of bankruptcy and barely hanging onto our hold in the marijuana business alone. Wheein and a few others had my back during the whole overthrow thing and, despite how I may act sometimes, I'll always be forever grateful to them. I grew cocky over the first few years, but Wheein was always there to knock me down a few pegs. I'm grateful to that now - eight years later.