Cover by: @Enny101
Christian DeLuca is a very successful businessman with little regard for anyone he doesn't consider family, he's found work and life easier this way. What happens when he finds himself consumed by one thing, or rather one person...
The 3 men had grown impatient waiting for Christian to arrive. It had already been 15 hours since they'd been confined to this space, but all 3 knew his absence was more than likely Alesha related.
They had spent so long in the darkened room that they were now fully accustomed to the strong scent of bleach coating the area.
The idea of meeting with the biggest criminal on the East Coast, without regards to outside the US, put the grown men on edge. The oldest gentleman with graying hair and a beard to match, was calmly taking note of the items on the table in front of them. The youngest, who was a black man carrying a bold gold chain around his neck was evidently irritated, cussing to himself. While the other white man, who donned scars all over his visible skin, grinned to himself at their obvious tensity.
Although no words were said, each man scoped out the room with a wariness of everything and everyone occupying the space.
The rusting copper door creaked open as it brushed across the dirty concrete floor. Their attention darted to the direction of the sound, only to see Christian Marino DeLuca step into the room.
"Hello gentlemen. I apologize for the wait, although, I'm sure you're all familiar with my circumstances at the moment, which is also the reason I've brought you here." The men stared back at him in anticipation of how he would proceed. "Today is just an opportunity to resolve our pasts, on behalf of myself and my family. You've all earned this justice and I am a man of principle. However, I should note that I believe it's only a modicum of what you really deserve." Christian's eyes locked on the older gray haired man sat to the far right of the room.
"Shall we begin?" Shrugging off his suit jacket, he sent an innocent smile to the men.
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He walked over to the table where different sharpened tools laid wait for his use. Running his hands along the tray of blades, he reached for the small scalpel that caught his eye. "Before that..", he halted his movements, turning back to the graying man, "I got you something". Christian strode over to his jacket, pulling a black box from its pocket; he made his way over to the man, lifting a syringe filled with clear liquid from the case. Slowly, but heedlessly, Christian pierced the exposed skin of the man's arm, injecting all the contents into his body.
The old man hissed at the discomfort and slight sting the needle caused. "Don't worry, it's just a little experiment our Irish friends whipped up; the sick bastards. You're the first to try it, so for all we know, it might not work." Christian shrugged as he walked back to the array of utensils; he put the syringe back in the box and threw it on the table.
He paced in front of the men, debating who should go first.
"ARRGGGHHHH!WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS!?!"
"Hmm, whaddya know, it works, and fast too. I'll let Dermot know." Christian smiled watching the old man fight against his restraints. Whatever Christian had given him caused every muscle in his body to burn and ache as if boiling him from the inside out. He writhed against the makeshift barbed-wire ropes Christian's men had tied him down with; creating deep cuts in his wrists and ankles that he was numb to because of the pain attacking his entire body.
