A Debt Paid In Blood
1106 Words
ANTONIO
Not long after I left her room, I heard the unmistakable shattering of glass and screams travel down the hallway.
It was late, and the house should have been silent.
But I knew it was my Fiore, crashing out and slowly breaking exactly the way pressure always worked.
Her maids rushed out of their wing, eyes widened, and ran towards her room.
I held my hand up in silence, and they froze, waiting for my command.
"Go back," I said.
They traded looks and went back to their rooms just like that, and I was left alone in the hallway again.
Her screams tickled my ears.
It was a sound I had already grown to love hearing since a few minutes ago.
The sound of thunder echoed across the mansion, followed by the quick flash of lightning.
I nodded slowly, scratching my chin.
My ears still perked through the heavy rain to hear her screams; when I heard none, I smirked.
I knew Fiore loved the rain, I knew her spirit was broken, but this was only the beginning, and I wasn't done with her yet.
I was going to break her in all ways possible until she was nothing but a lump of clay for me to mould into the perfect queen of my blood-stained empire.
I walked casually towards her bedroom door, I opened it and there she was on the bed.
She was fast asleep without a care in the world.
She was curled up on the bed, and her breathing was heavy.
I expected it to be after the meltdown she just had.
Then i took a look at the damage she had done on the whole room. It wasn't major, nothing spectacular, yet it still had potential.
She was feisty, and she had the potential to be violent.
My lips twitched into a small smile as I observed her closely in her sleep.
She looked smaller in her sleep, easier to crush.
Fragile.
I walked out of her room again, shutting the doors behind me.
A guard ran up to me in the hallway, his breath frantic, and his forehead was beaded in sweat.
He was one of the new guards, I could tell.
He still had a soul, not for long, he shivered before me like a coward, I swallowed in disgust, weak humans disgusted me.
"Sir.. the people you asked for have been brought, "he said, avoiding eye contact.
I nodded and let him lead the way.
"As much as I like fear, seeing you as a coward does not guarantee you living long in my family," I said, my voice low as I spoke through gritted teeth.
He straightened up but didn't reply.
We walked to the restricted wing of the manor. He pushed the door open, and the room was dark except for a little light bulb that illuminated the room just a bit.
Immediately I walked in, I got a hint of my favourite scent in the world.
Other than that of my Fiore.
I smelled blood. It made me chuckle.
I stopped in front of two people tied to different chairs on the room.
Snapping my fingers, the guards understood and brought me a seat, and handed me my gun.
Lucas, my personal guard ripped off the black bags that covered their heads.
Their reactions were the usual.
The fear, the crying, the looking around before their eyes settled on me.
"W-Who are you?", the woman asked, her voice shaky from sobs.
I just laughed in response.
"Russell," I sneered.
She looked at me, surprised.
I smiled, in response as I cracked my neck.
"Bring them", I ordered.
My men brought in a large slab of ice, a drill, some chilli water, and a manilla folder with the stamp of the family.
I nodded and they unveiled the ice, then they untied the b***h and made her sit on it.
They stood at her sides, guns levelled to her head if she tried to move.
I knew she would try to.
It was too cold, obviously.
She gasped and shivered, the way she was snivelling before me was a sight I planned to extend.
She wasn't going to die, not yet.
"P—Please", she begged.
I took the folder from one of men and set it in her hands.
"Open it", my tone left no room for debate.
She opened it slowly still shivering from the ice she sat on.
Her eyes widened as she looked at the photos in her hands, she flinched as I huffed while getting to my feet.
Her shaky hands caused her to spill the photos on the floor. The pictures were pics of her over the years maltreating my Fiore.
There were pictures of her hitting her, one was when she almost drowned her and so much more.
She looked up at me, swallowing hard.
"I–I didn't meant to", she pleaded.
"Tsk", I shook my head, walking around her slowly.
She sobbed loudly.
As much as I was enjoying this, It was taking all the self-control I could muster to not kill her immediately.
Death would be a mercy and Antonio D'Amico does not show mercy, especially not to those who owed in blood.
It is a sign of weakness and it is pathetic.
I took out a cigarette and lit it, leaning against the wall, my eyes never leaving the b***h.
"Choose", I said after a while of silence.
"Choose how you want to suffer", I continued.
She shook her head frantically, and went on her knees to beg me.
I chuckled.
It was amusing that she thought begging me would save her.
I flicked the cigarette away and straightened.
“Take her,” I said calmly.
She froze.
The guards didn’t hesitate.
Someone took the chilli water.
Another picked up the drill.
Their hands gripped her arms, dragging her across the rough floor as she screamed my Fiore’s name like it might save her.
It wouldn’t.
I didn’t look back when the door opened behind me.
Her punishment was no longer my concern.
I turned instead to the man still tied to the chair.
He had gone pale. Sweat soaked through his shirt.
Good.
He watched the blood trail on the floor, then looked up at me with wide, desperate eyes.
“I didn’t—please,” he choked.
“I didn’t know—”
I crouched in front of him, slowly.
“You knew enough,” I said through gritted teeth.
He sobbed.
“I’ll do anything.”
I smiled.
"It's too late for that", I said hand closing around my gun.
- Writer
