Alessandro's POV.
The city stretched beneath me, a maze of lights and moving figures, insignificant, oblivious. From where I stood, they looked like ants, scurrying to survive in a world where men like me decided their fate. I took a slow sip of my coffee, the bitter taste grounding me as I watched the skyline.
What was life without power? Without money? Irrelevant questions. I wouldn't know. I had both, more than enough to make or break anyone with a single word. A trembling voice crackled through the speaker on my desk, shattering the moment.
"S-Sir, the Singapore investors are…uh…they're hesitant about finalizing the deal. They're requesting more time to—"
"Hesitant?" My voice was quiet, controlled, lethal. A pause. The man on the other end swallowed audibly. "Y-Yes, sir. They just need a little more time to—"
"Time?" I leaned back, tapping a finger against my desk. "Do they plan to compensate me for every second they waste?"
Silence. The kind soaked in fear.
"Or should I take payment another way?"
"N-No, sir! I'll—I'll speak to them immediately."
"You have five minutes to fix this, Derek," I said flatly. "Or they'll be negotiating from the streets."
I ended the call.
Incompetence irritated me. Wasting my time? That was a death wish. My company stood at the top because I didn't tolerate delays. Time was power, and power was mine to control.
I shifted my gaze to the documents spread across my desk—corporate reports stacked beside far more interesting matters. Stocks and blood money. Investments and control. Two sides of the same empire. And I held the strings to both. Not long after, Derek's call came in.
"Sir, the deal has been finalized."
Lucky them, I muttered and hung up. Almost immediately, my phone buzzed again—this time, it was Marco, my right-hand man."Boss, we found him," he said, his tone firm. A devilish smirk curled on my lips. "Let's go pay some punk a visit, shall we?"
I stood, dialing my secretary.
"Sir?" Her voice came through instantly."Get the car ready. I'm heading out. And cancel all my plans for today." I hung up without waiting for a response. Stepping outside my office, I didn't miss the way my employees scrambled, pretending to look busy, as if their worthless efforts could escape my notice. The fear of Alessandro De Lucas was the beginning of wisdom.
My four guards followed closely behind as I exited the building. The chauffeur was already waiting, standing by the sleek black SUV. Without a word, I slid into the backseat.
"Take me to the mansion."
"Yes, sir."
The car pulled away from De Lucas Corp, the city lights blurring past. Tonight, someone was going to regret crossing me. The drive to the mansion was silent. Marco sat beside me, scrolling through his phone before glancing up."We caught him trying to leave town," he said. "Had a bag packed and everything. Sloppy."
Of course. Rats always ran when the walls started closing in. I adjusted the cuff of my suit, my patience thinning. "Where is he now?"
"The basement. He's been screaming for the past hour." A slow smirk tugged at my lips. "Then he's still useful."
The SUV pulled into the driveway of my private estate, a fortress built for a king, and I was the only ruler. My guards stood in formation as I stepped out, nodding in acknowledgment. Marco led the way inside, down the winding corridors, until we reached the basement door.
The air in the basement was suffocating--thick with blood, sweat, and the stench of fear. The man in the chair trembled, his breathing ragged, his wrists bruised and raw from struggling against the restraints.
Pathetic. I pulled off my suit jacket and handed it to MJ before rolling up my sleeves.
I stepped forward, slow and deliberate, my shoes clicking against the cold cement floor. Marco stood to the side, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. A steel table beside him held an array of tools-some sharp, some blunt, all capable of making a man beg for death.
The man lifted his swollen eyes, panic flaring when he realized I was standing right in front of him. He flinched as I crouched, my fingers tracing the edge of the blade Marco had set aside for me."You've cost me a lot of money." My voice was calm, almost casual. "You interfered with something that wasn't yours. Tell me-why should I let you walk out of here alive?" He swallowed hard, shaking his head.
"P-Please, sir, I didn't know-"
I sighed, already bored. "Wrong answer."
Without warning, I grabbed his left hand and slammed it against the armrest. The blade sliced through his pinky with terrifying ease. A guttural scream ripped from his throat, his body convulsing against the chair.
Blood dripped onto the floor. I wiped the blade against a clean cloth and exhaled. "Now, let's try again." He sobbed, gasping for air, his entire body trembling.
"Who do you work for?"
"We….we weren't working for anyone specific! I swear!" he choked out. "We were just hired!"
I twirled the knife between my fingers.
"By who?"
"I don't know!" he whimpered."We never met him. He only contacts Us through a site, pays us for the job, nothing else!" Another sigh. Another clean cut. This time, his scream was hoarse, his body shaking violently as another finger fell to the floor."You're wasting my time." My patience was running thin.
"T-The site!" he stammered. "We-w-we log in, take the job, and get paid! That's all!" I raised a brow. Interesting.
"So you don't know who's behind this?" I pressed."No! We only get paid to do what we're told! We didn't know the goods belonged to you, if we had, we never would've taken the job! No one is that stupid!"
I tilted my head. A coward's honesty. My gaze trailed over his bloodied hands, the way his whole body trembled violently. That was when I noticed something.
A tattoo.
Faint, inked along the inside of his wrist—partially hidden by smeared blood. A spider. I reached forward, gripping his arm roughly, twisting it so the symbol was fully visible. The man winced but didn't fight back. Smart.
"What does this mean?" I asked, voice sharp.
He hesitated.
The tip of my knife pressed against his ring finger.
"I—it's just a mark!" he sobbed. "We all have it—it's required! Just a symbol, nothing more!"
I didn't believe him.
But I wasn't done yet.
I leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper. "Tell me, where do I find the others?"
His eyes widened with terror. "I—I don't—"
I pressed down.
Another cut. Another scream.
The room filled with his agony, but I barely blinked.
Tonight, he would tell me everything.
And if not—
Well.
He wouldn't need to worry about keeping secrets much longer. His screams tore through the basement, raw and desperate, echoing off the concrete walls. His body convulsed in the chair, his fingers, or what remained of them, twitching uselessly. Blood pooled beneath him, thick and dark, staining the floor.
I wiped the blade clean against his shirt, my expression unreadable. "I won't ask again," I said, my voice quiet but razor-sharp. I gripped his hand, my thumb pressing against the base of his remaining fingers. "Where are the others?"
"I—I don't know!" he choked out, his breath hitching. "My boss told us to lay low. We all went our separate ways."
Boss.
Now we were getting somewhere. His eyes widened, realization dawning too late, he had just made a grave mistake by mentioning a higher-up. I leaned in slightly. "What's your boss's name?"
He swallowed hard, his entire body trembling. "P-please... we—we didn't know it was your goods..."
Annoying.
I sliced through his right hand's middle finger without hesitation. A fresh scream ripped from his throat, his back arching violently against the chair. Tears streamed down his face, mixing with the sweat and blood.
"His name," I said flatly.
He sobbed, barely able to form words. "MK! His name is MK!" he gasped. "He's the only one with access to the site—he gives us the jobs, pays us. That's all I know, I swear!"
Good boy.
I nodded toward Marco without another word. He understood immediately and slipped out of the room.
I stepped away, walking toward the sink in the corner. The water ran cold as I washed the blood from my hands, the crimson swirling down the drain. Behind me, the man whimpered, his voice weak but desperate.
"P-please... let me go... I won't say a word, I swear..."
Pathetic.
MJ stepped closer as I dried my hands with a handkerchief, the faint of blood still lingering in the air. "Kill him," I said, my tone devoid of emotion. A gunshot rang out before I even reached the door. I didn't bother looking back.
Stepping into the dimly lit hallway, I adjusted the cuffs of my shirt and headed for the exit. The black SUV was already waiting.
"Take me to Tipsy Club," I ordered as I slid into the backseat.
"Yes, sir."
The car pulled away, the city lights blurring past.
MK.
A slow chuckle rumbled from my chest. Whoever he was, he had no idea what was coming for him. He should pray I never get my hands on him.
Because if I did—