A man who doesn't spare
1024 Words
Alessandro DeLuca’s fist slammed into the man’s face, sending him crashing backward into a pile of wooden crates. A broken whimper escaped his lips as his eyes locked on the monster standing before him. All he wanted at that moment was to disappear anywhere but here, but there was no escape.
The other men stood frozen, in fear, gripping them tightly as they should. The man slumped against the crates shook violently when realization dawned on him. He had crossed the wrong man. Three bodies already lay lifeless on the ground. When Alessandro stepped forward and wrapped his hand around the last man’s throat, his grip was so brutal it was a wonder he hadn’t crushed it instantly.
The man gasped, clawing at Alessandro’s hand, struggling for air, but it was pointless. Alessandro overpowered him with ease. Rage burned fiercely within him. Killing three men hadn’t been enough. He wanted more.
But first—answers.
“Who sent you?” Alessandro asked, his voice cold and controlled as his fingers tightened further.
The man stiffened, terror flooding his eyes. His lips trembled, unable to form words.
“Talk!” Alessandro snapped, his patience snapping with it, his hand twitching as if ready to end him.
“I—I didn’t know they belonged to you,” the man stuttered desperately. “If I had known, I would never have touched them. We were hired… we only followed instructions.”
“Who hired you?” Alessandro growled, slamming him harder against the crates. “Say the name.”
His temper was slipping fast. The shipment he had arranged loaded with weapons and meant for delivery to Mexico had vanished. He had already secured the deal, even bribed the officer in charge. Then suddenly, everything was gone.
A deal worth two million was ruined.
And Alessandro DeLuca did not take losses lightly.
The men he had captured were responsible for stealing the weapons, yet they hadn’t even known who they were. Now they were all dead except this one. And his time was running out.
’T—the new officer…” the man choked out.
A new officer.
Alessandro’s expression darkened. It had to be someone new. Anyone familiar with his name would never dare interfere. His reputation alone was enough to paralyze men with fear.
“That’s all I know,” the man pleaded, his hands shaking. “Please… let me go.”
Let him go?
A cold smile touched Alessandro’s lips.
Mercy was not something he believed in.
The man scrambled backward, dragging himself across the rough floor, panic written all over his face. His body trembled under Alessandro’s piercing amber stare.
And Alessandro?
He was enjoying it.
The fear, the helplessness it fed something dark inside him.
How dare they touch what belonged to him?
“I swear… I don’t know anything else,” the man cried.
Without warning, Alessandro hurled a knife into his thigh.
A scream ripped through the warehouse.
Before the man could recover, a second blade struck his other leg. He tried to crawl away, but the pain pinned him in place. His cries echoed loudly, filling the space.
Tears streamed down his face as he tried to beg again, but only broken sobs came out.
That deal, millions of dollars, was now delayed because of useless fools like him. Alessandro knew the real problem was the officer. And he would deal with him.
But first…
He needed to release his anger.
He pulled out another blade and drove it into the man’s shoulder. The scream that followed was sharp and raw, but Alessandro didn’t hesitate.
“Where are my weapons?” he demanded, grabbing the man’s jaw and pressing a gun firmly against his temple.
“If I knew… I would have told you,” the man gasped weakly.
Alessandro studied him for a moment.
Maybe he was telling the truth.
After all, not many could lie with death staring them in the face.
“Then you’re useless to me,” Alessandro said flatly.
He pulled the trigger.
The bullet pierced straight through the man’s forehead.
Silence followed.
Alessandro stepped back and kicked the lifeless body aside. Blood splattered across his face, marking his sharp features.
He turned toward a guard standing nearby. The man’s head was lowered, his body tense. He had seen everything.
Alessandro reached into the guard’s pocket, pulled out a white handkerchief, and calmly wiped the blood from his face. Then he cleaned his gun with the same cloth before lifting his gaze.
“Do you want to end up like him?” he asked quietly.
“N-no, sir,” the guard replied shakily.
“Then why are you still standing there?”
“Find that officer,” Alessandro ordered, his voice rising dangerously. “Bring him to me. Now.”
“Yes, boss!” the guards responded immediately, rushing toward the exit.
“Wait.”
They froze.
“Bring his family too,” Alessandro added, a cruel edge in his voice. “Watching them suffer will break him faster.”
They nodded quickly and disappeared.
Alessandro DeLuca.
A name feared across the underworld.
Head of the Italian mafia. A powerful force in both illegal dealings and legitimate business. Ruthless, cold, merciless—he was a man without sympathy.
His appearance only added to his presence dark hair, piercing amber eyes, a defined jawline, and a strong, imposing build.
He had no family.
No attachments.
He didn’t even know where he came from.
As a child, he had roamed the streets after escaping an orphanage. The former mafia leader had taken him in, trained him, shaped him into what he was now.
After that man’s death, Alessandro took control.
And he never looked back.
He expanded his empire without hesitation. Marco Vieri and Luca Moretti, his most trusted men, had grown alongside him. Now they stood as his left and right hands.
Weapons trade. Assassinations. Gambling. Human trafficking. Black market operations. Narcotics.
There was nothing he didn’t control.
He owned hotels, clubs fronts to clean his money and strengthen his influence.
To him…
People were nothing more than disposable.
Like insects beneath his feet.
- Writer
