Fear and Loyalty

I sat down, my gaze fixed on hers. I couldn't ignore some tiny bruises I saw on her face, but it was of little concern to me. "So, I'm guessing you've come to accept my offer," I said, watching her silent presence, which persisted for a few seconds, leaving my question unanswered.

"If I agree, can you guarantee your help? Can I make them pay? I can make every single one of them pay," she uttered, her voice barely audible but growing louder.

Her eyes were different, unlike when I first met her. They reminded me of someone—I recognized that feeling of wanting revenge, to make them pay, to rip them from flesh to flesh and watch as they beg for mercy before killing them.

Gosh, how I missed that instinct!

"My words don't change, nor do I break them. Agree to sign this deal, and I'll ensure all your problems are gone, and all the revenge you desire is within your grasp." I said, observing the impact of my words on her vulnerable state.

I yearned to experience once more the feeling of flames burning within her, the all-consuming desire to see her enemies suffer—a feeling that would make her agree to anything just to have the power to exact her revenge.

"Alright..." she whispered, "but before I agree, can I know why?"

"What do you mean?" I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"Why did you offer me this contract? There are many others, and I'm a complete stranger. Why bring this offer to me, and I'm yet to know what you stand to gain from this?" she questioned, her curiosity evident but better left in check.

"That you don't need to know," I said firmly, making my position clear. Her gaze rose to meet mine, her light green eyes captivating me once more, a reminder of why she was here in the first place.

Uncle Gavin had found it strange that I'd saved a complete stranger and taken her to the hospital. He'd even stooped so low as to ask if I'd fallen in love. Love? I couldn't help but chuckle at his words.

Why fall in love with one when I can have them all under my control? Love weakens the strong, and in my world, weakness is a death sentence, an edge away from claiming you. It reminded me of my pathetic father, once a feared mafia lord whose name reeked of terror and respect, but after he fell in love, it weakened him, and he eventually died a pathetic death.

Love wasn't the reason I saved her back then; I mean, I'd even wanted to run her over for staining my brand new car with her blood. Yet, I couldn't let such a beauty go to waste, especially with those mesmerizing eyes.

"If you can't tell me why you brought me the offer, could you at least tell me how you found out about my uncle and where I was?" she questioned, snapping me out of my thoughts.

"You know the answer to that yourself," I replied, resting my back on the couch as a smirk escaped my lips. "I had the details brought to me because I saw you fit for my offer after I had saved you back then. But something tells me you know who I am more than I know you."

"Who doesn't?" she said simply.

She was right; who didn't know me? But the truth was, they all knew my brother, not me—my so-called scary brother. Really, that silly fool. I was the one who talked him out of his hole to hold his first gun when he was just twelve. If I hadn't, I was sure the punishment given to him would have been of utmost cruelty. My father wanted perfection from us, and he went to any length to see that we had it.

And now he roamed like he was the best, like I was nothing. He may be my brother, but I saw him as a competitor in my path. I had to show them all eventually who was the best.

"Alright then, so I ask you again: do you agree to this contract?" I questioned, my gaze fixed on hers as I watched the pale and confused expressions displayed on her face.

She stayed silent for a few minutes, as though she was contemplating her decision, but in the end, I always had my way. Right from when I was a kid, I made sure that I got anything I wanted, and all who stood in my way were taught a lesson and shown their rightful place at my feet, just as my father had taught me.

"I agree..." she whispered.

"Good," I called out Marisa as I watched her approach me with swift haste. Marisa was my nanny when I was just a kid before she eventually retired when I grew up and was sent to a different country. Upon meeting her again, I decided to hire her to manage the house when I wasn't around. I could say she took care of things in my absence.

"Take her to one of the guest rooms to freshen up and get something good to cook for breakfast," I said. Marisa gave a nod to heed my words, and I gently stood up, approaching Sierra with a downcast gaze as I noticed her downcast eyes. Something really was off with her.

"She will take you to one of the rooms. Freshen up and get something to wear. I'll have the contract made today, so be ready to sign it." I left her side after that, walking toward the courtyard for some air.

My phone buzzed, catching my attention as I picked it out of my pocket. My eyes gazed upon Uncle Marc's name on the screen. I felt a strange feeling washing over me as my body froze in an instant. A thudding sound of my heart pounding faster, I could tell he was the only one—the only man I feared. Not me, but every single member of the De Santos family feared him, even my father.

Marcellus De Santos wasn't just an ordinary mafia lord; he was labeled the king of the underworld. Nobody dared to look him in the eyes.

Why was he calling me? I wondered, hesitant to answer the call at first. I released a sigh after managing a proper breath and picked up the call.

Complete silence echoed through the area for a few seconds.

"Adrian..." His voice came through, and I felt my face fall. He wasn't here; it was just a call, so why was I so scared that—

"It's been a while, Adrian. I've heard of the things you and your brother have been up to lately," he uttered.

"I'm sure they're rumors, just baseless lies, Uncle," I started mumbling in fear.

"Rumors or not, I want you two to return back home."

"Home? But why, Uncle Marc?"

"Is that a question, Adrian?"

"No, not at all. I will be there, Uncle Marc. I shall be there first thing tomorrow."

"Good. Your brother shall also be here. I've called him up. I will be expecting both of you back home tomorrow."

"O-of course, Uncle Marc," I replied as he hung up the call. I felt a sigh of relief wash over me in that instant.

Why had he called all of a sudden? What was this about 'returning back home'? Why now? Could somebody have ratted me out to him, or was it Dominic? I doubted it was him; the last thing he would do was report or call Uncle Marc. That would be the last thing either of us would ever do.