Vengeance in his bed

It was 7:30pm, I was getting ready to close my bakery. I wiped down the counter, humming and swaying my hip to the soft music, my apron stained with floor and burnt sugar. I smiled at the last customer, then flipped the sign to CLOSED and turned off the lights. Under the register, I slid Vinnie’s envelope into place. Protection money. Due tomorrow. Three hundred cash for the “privilege” of running a business on the South Side. I hated the envelope, but Landon always said, “It’s just business, Ames. Keeps us safe.” What a perfect and normal day… or so I thought. My phone buzzed with a call from Landon's girlfriend, Kate. I hesitated, expecting another lengthy rant about my brother's latest mistake. "Not now, Kate," I muttered, dropping my phone on the clean table. I grabbed my purse and gave my small bakery a final glance before stepping out. My phone rang repeatedly as I locked up. On the fifth ring, I sighed and answered. "Break up with him already, he's clueless about treating women right," I said, trying to sound supportive and firm. "Amy..." Kate's trembling voice caught me off guard. Something in her tone sent a shiver down my spine. "What's wrong?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. "Amy, it's… Landon," Kate sobbed uncontrollably. Not her usual dramatic sniffles. This was raw and broken. My heart slammed against my ribs. Landon and Kate fought like it was their job, but he never made her cry like that. Something tells me this is about a fight. "Kate, calm down. What happened to my brother?" I pressed, steeling myself for the answer. Kate struggled to form words, her voice shaky. "Kate, please just tell me," I urged, impatience mixing with concern, but she kept mumbling nonsense. "Where are you?" I asked, mentally canceling my plans to enjoy a box of pizza and continue season three of X.O Kitty. "I'll text you the address," she managed. The text arrived instantly. I hailed a cab, my mind racing with worst-case scenarios. The cab dropped me on a quiet street lined with dark houses. Yet, something felt off. The darkness seemed to swallow the streetlights. Three men in black suits approached, their presence unnerving. Just as I considered fleeing, Kate stumbled out from behind them, her eyes swollen, mascara washed down, hair disheveled like she’d been electrocuted and some weird dark stains on her dress. Maybe it’s the streetlight, but I think there are bloodstains. I stood frozen, my eyes squeezed shut, praying to the God I stopped talking to when my parents died. Please let him be okay. Please, please, please. The world around me melted away, leaving only the desperate plea echoing in my mind. Gathering what little courage I had left, I took a step closer to Kate. "Where is my brother?" I demanded, my glare piercing through the darkness, silencing her attempts to explain. "Just take me to him," I insisted, unwilling to care about the trouble he'd gotten himself into. We'd face it together, as always. We'd always been a team, a duo against the world. Kate nodded, her eyes welling up with tears, and led me through a quiet, winding path to a reinforced gate. More suited men emerged from the shadows, their menacing weapons casually in their hands like a cup of coffee. My heart skipped a beat, but my questions died in my throat. I'd ask later. Kate guided me to the compound's rear, where the scene worsened. As I took the turn leading to the back, the smell hit me first, a wave of dread washed over me. The air was heavy with the metallic scent of blood, making my stomach churn. I felt like I was walking into a nightmare. My eyes scanned the space, taking in the gruesome scene before me. Bodies laid on the ground, six of them, covered in white sheets. I turned to Kate and fresh tears sipped from her eyes as she pointed at the body closest to me. I shook my head slowly, my heart raced as I approached the first one, my mind screaming, "No, no, no." The world spun around me as I stumbled towards it. My knees hit the ground before I realized I’d fallen. My hand wouldn’t stop shaking. I had to use both to grip the edge of the sheet. One breath. Two. Don’t do this. Don’t look. I lifted it. Landon. My twin brother's pale face stared back at me, his eyes frozen in a permanent stare. My world shattered. My chest tightened, and I struggled to draw a breath. The sound that ripped out of me wasn’t a scream. It was something ancient and animal, torn from the bottom of my soul. “Landon, no, no, no.” I collapsed beside him, the smell of blood and death enveloped me. “Get up,” I choked. “Get up, you i***t. You owe me rent. You said you’d fix the oven. Landon, please…” Pain and anguish ripped through me like a razor, leaving me raw and exposed. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of grief, unable to escape the crushing weight of my loss. I begged, promised to do the dishes forever, swore to do his laundry and cook without complaint, but he still didn’t move. “LANDON!” I screamed with all my strength until my voice strained, like the volume could bring him out of darkness. --- “Hello? Miss, are you listening?” I blinked. The bodies and blood were gone. I turned to the stern face of the receptionist. She must’ve been calling for a while. “Yes, yes, sorry,” I apologized, my voice hoarse and dry. “You can go in for your interview now. First door to the left” She eyed me with a frown, tapping her bright red nails on the desk. I looked down. My resume was squeezed tightly between my palms and damp with sweat. s**t. I smoothed it against my thigh with trembling fingers. I stood before the large door, taking a deep breath and muttering words of encouragement to myself. How my life has transformed a month after Landon’s death is still a shock to me. Just a month ago, all I was doing was baking one of the best pastries in town with joy and ease. Now, I’m at Blackwood Holdings, 35th floor. To be the Personal Assistant to Ryan Blackwood. The son of Lucas Blackwood — the man who murdered my brother in cold blood. I got to find out my twin brother, who does nothing but enjoy my cupcakes, make fun of me and tease me all day was actually in the Mafia. The same group he always claimed to be afraid of. I have moved between shock, denial, confusion, acceptance, annoyance, frustration… all within a month. Now I’m all about vengeance and the first step to that is to get this job. I stood in front of the mahogany door and dragged in a breath that shook. For Landon. I knocked softly, suppressing emotions as I pushed the door and walked in. The office was cold. The man behind the CEO's desk didn’t look up. He was busy writing something on a paper. His suit and wristwatch screamed luxury. The son of a murderer, he must also be a murderer himself. Who knows how many lives he has wasted with his devilish father. Amy, calm down and don’t blow your cover. “Sit.” He flicked two fingers at the chair across from him without looking up. His voice was deep. I sat, counting the seconds until he dropped his Mont Blanc pen and finally raised his head up. His eyes were ice-blue and sharp enough to pierce through anything. “So, what’s your exper… wait.” He paused, almost frozen. “You.” It wasn’t a question, but a dangerous statement. Shit! He knows me!