CHAPTER 9
Salvatore D’Alessio
One week ago...
The smell of blood and rotten meat hit my nostrils as I stepped into the underground cell of the warehouse deep in the jungle of Monpura town. I turned left and entered a dim, grimy room where Stephen, my mate and best friend, stood with Victor and John, facing a battered man.
Blood oozed from his countless cuts and bruises, smearing him from head to toe in crimson. His hands were cuffed, and he lay on the cold floor, barely breathing. His face was almost unrecognizable.
“Is he alive?” I asked Stephen, narrowing my eyes.
“Yeah. He won’t be dying anytime soon,” Stephen chuckled darkly.
“Did he open his mouth?” I pressed.
“I wish that motherfucker was mute,” John scoffed.
I slowly approached and sat down opposite the broken man. His blo
