Fall of Hero
1303 Words
Julian Pov.
I loaded my guns with precision, the familiar weight of the metal calming my nerves. The soft clicks of the mechanism were music to my ears, a symphony of power.
My eyes drifted to Alessia, huddled on the bed. Tears streamed down her face, her body shaking with sobs.
A small, wicked smile crept onto my lips.
Her pain was my pleasure.
Her fear was my fuel.
I savored the sound of her cries, the desperation in her eyes. It was intoxicating, a heady rush of adrenaline.
This was control.
This was power.
I holstered my gun, my gaze never leaving Alessia. Her trembling form was a testament to my dominance.
She feared me.
And I loved it.
I would have shown her my true self if I'd met her under different circumstances," I thought, gazing at Alessia. "But coming from the Morano Syndicate, she's a reminder of the pain and betrayal I've endured."
My loyalty was tested, and my family was torn apart by the Moranos.
Now, Alessia represents only one thing: revenge.
In my eyes, she's nothing but a tool for my satisfaction. A s*x machine, designed to satiate my desires.
Her tears, her fears, they only fuel my hunger.
I'll use her, exploit her, and discard her when I'm done.
"They call me SIN, the deadly Mafia no one dares to face. I've killed with no remorse, and people's cries and agonies are my joy. I love to kill, and the Mafia uses me as a machine to eliminate anyone who stands in their way.
My reputation precedes me, striking fear into the hearts of my enemies. They whisper my name in terror, knowing I'm the bringer of darkness.
I feed on fear, and terror is my currency. The rush of adrenaline, the thrill of the hunt, it's what drives me.
I am SIN, the instrument of vengeance, the executioner of fate.
As I gazed at Alessia, still weeping on the bed, my mind seethed with resentment.
What I hated most was people touching what was mine.
Especially Alessia.
The one I had loved with all my heart.
But now, she was tainted by her family's betrayal.
My phone pierced the silence, a call from one of my men.
"Boss, we're at the location," he said, his voice firm.
"Wait for me," I replied, my tone cold. "I'll be there soon."
I ended the call, my eyes lingering on Alessia.
Her tears were a reminder of her weakness.
I grabbed my duffel bag, its weight reassuring.
My arsenal.
My guns.
My tools of control.
The bag was filled with my trusted companions: My Beretta M9, loyal and reliable
Glock 19, precise and deadly, AK-47 brutal and efficient
I slung the bag over my shoulder, feeling its familiar weight.
Time to attend to business.
I cast one last glance at Alessia, her fragile form shaking with sobs.
"Non piangere, amore mio," I whispered, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
(Don't cry, my love.)
But I didn't mean it.
I wanted her to cry.
I wanted her to fear.
For in her fear, I found control.
I turned and walked away, leaving Alessia to her tears.
I arrived at my abattoir house, a place where screams echoed through the walls.
But I didn't slaughter animals here.
I slaughtered humans.
The rusty metal tables, the meat hooks, and the draining floor were all testaments to my twisted craft.
Two figures cowered in the corner, pleading for mercy.
An elderly man and woman, their eyes wide with terror.
I tossed something onto the floor before them.
Mark's severed head rolled to a stop, eyes frozen in shock.
The couple's screams pierced the air as they recognized their son.
"Is this your boy?" I asked, my voice was devoid of emotion.
The woman nodded frantically, her face contorted.
"Y-yes...our Mark..."
The old man stumbled forward, collapsing to his knees.
"Please...spare us...we'll do anything..."
I smiled, a cold, calculated smile.
"You see, your son made a grave mistake," I said, my voice dripping with malice. "He dared to show interest in my wife, Alessia."
The couple's cries turned to wails as they realized their fate.
"No one touches what's mine," I growled, my eyes blazing. "No one."
I pulled out my Beretta M9, its cold metal gleaming.
The old man and woman begged, pleading for mercy.
But I had none.
"You should have taught your son better," I said, my finger tightening on the trigger.
Two shots echoed through the abattoir.
The couple slumped to the ground, their bodies lifeless.
I holstered my gun, my expression unyielding.
Another debt settled.
Another example made.
No one would dare touch what was mine again.
I glanced at my watch.
Time to return to Alessia.
As I turned to leave, one of my men approached me, his voice low and cautious. "Boss, message for you." I raised an eyebrow, my grip on my bag tightening, anticipating the worst.
"Skale's back in the city," he replied, his eyes locked on mine.
My expression faltered for a fraction of a second. A flicker of worry crossed my face. Skale. That name echoed through my mind like a curse. Our history was complicated, unsettling. Memories of our past encounters flooded my mind, and my jaw clenched in response.
I'd thought I'd eliminated the problem. But apparently, it had just been dormant, waiting to resurface. My mind raced with questions. What did Skale want? Why now? I couldn't shake off the feeling of unease. Skale's return was a wild card, unpredictable, and I didn't like it.
"Clean this up," I said, nodding toward the bodies, my tone cold and detached. But inside, a storm brewed. I needed to maintain control, to keep my emotions in check.
I pulled out my phone and dialed Vinnie's number. "Vinnie, I need you to dig up everything on Skale's return," I growled. "Find out what he's planning." Vinnie's voice was reassuring. "Consider it done, boss."
I slid into my car, the leather seats creaking beneath me. As I drove through the city.
I passed by a quaint cake shop, its colorful display catching my eye. Alessia loved sweets. I remembered the way her eyes sparkled when she bit into a decadent chocolate cake.
Despite our complicated past, despite the control I exerted over her, I still cared for her deeply. My feelings for Alessia were complex, twisted even. But I couldn't deny the soft spot I had for her.
I pulled over, parking my car beside the shop. I stepped out, the bell above the door jingling as I entered.
"Welcome to Sweet Delights!" the baker chimed.
"I'll take a chocolate cake, please," I said, scanning the display. "And a bottle of Moscato."
I paid and left, the cake and wine secured in the passenger seat.
As I turned to get back into my car, the cake and wine secured on the passenger seat, a sudden, ear-shattering crack ripped through the air. A bullet tore through my skull, its impact sending a wave of searing pain coursing through my brain.
Time seemed to slow, each second stretching into an eternity. I felt myself crumpling, my legs buckling beneath me. The world spun wildly, colors blurring together in a maddening dance.
Sounds began to fade, growing distant and muffled. My vision blurred, edges darkening. I struggled to reach for my gun, but my limbs refused to respond.
The thought dissolved into nothingness as the darkness closed in.
Footsteps echoed through the night, growing fainter with each passing moment. A voice, low and gravelly, spoke into a phone.
"Message delivered," it said.
The voice faded into silence, leaving behind only the stillness of death.
My body lay motionless, a lifeless form slumped beside the car.
Julian, the ruthless kingpin, had fallen.
The city would never be the same.
- Writer
