Chapter two

Please! Please, I’m sorry I betrayed you, Don! It wasn’t intentional!" Mateo pleaded, his legs dangling over the edge of the freezing room. Blood dripped from his swollen face, staining the floor below as his battered body shook with fear. 

"Unintentional, you say?" Victor’s voice was calm, almost amused, as he leaned back in his chair, slowly peeling an apple with a razor-sharp knife. The blade glinted under the dim light, each deliberate motion a silent threat. He didn’t even glance at Mateo as he spoke. 

"So, tell me, Mateo," Victor continued, his tone ice-cold, "your hands just accidentally wandered into my shipment and stole an entire container of guns?" He let out a low, chilling laugh a sound devoid of warmth, one that sent shivers down Mateo’s spine. 

"N-no, boss!" Mateo stammered, his words tripping over themselves as Victor finally looked up, his dark, piercing eyes locking onto him. The intensity of Victor’s gaze was enough to strip a man of all hope, a reminder that betrayal was a death sentence in his world.

 

Victor rose from his chair, his movements smooth and deliberate, flipping the knife in his hand as if testing its weight. He took a slow bite of the apple, chewing thoughtfully before speaking again. 

"In the spirit of friendship, I’ll grant you one last wish," he offered, his voice dripping with menace. "Choose wisely, Mateo. It’s the only choice you’ll ever get." 

Mateo’s breath hitched, his voice trembling with desperation. "Please, Don… mercy. Kill me quickly," he begged, knowing full well that death was the only mercy Victor would ever offer. 

Victor’s lips curved into a cruel smile as he stepped closer, the knife glinting in his hand. "Mercy?" he repeated, his voice soft, yet sharp as a blade. "Smart choice." Without hesitation, he drove the blade into Mateo’s throat, swift and precise. 

Mateo's eyes widened in shock as his gasps turned into wet, choking sounds. Blood poured from the wound, staining Victor’s hands as he stood unmoving, his expression devoid of emotion. He watched in silence as Mateo struggled, his body convulsing before finally going limp. 

As soon as Mateo's body became lifeless Victor, pulled his blade out,  wiping the blade clean on Mateo’s shirt before stepping back. "Mercy granted," he muttered,  before turning to the door his eyes scanned the room, where his men scattered across the room, watching.

 Victor didn't have to say a word for the rest of them to know Mateo was an example, and if any of them tried the same thing, they might not have the same mercy.

“Clean this mess up,” Victor ordered sharply, his voice cutting through the cold room. Without waiting for a response, he walked straight to the door, his polished leather shoes echoing against the tiled floor. 

  

Outside, he met Alex, who  stood at attention, his hands stretching out a  handkerchief and hand sanitizer, as always knowing Victor’s needs.

 “Boss,” Alex greeted, dipping his head the moment their eyes met.  

Victor snatched the handkerchief, wiping his hands briskly. “You said you had something to tell me?” he asked, his tone firm as he began to walk down the hall, his pace fast. 

“Yes, boss,” Alex replied, struggling to match Victor’s long speed.  

“Well, get on with it,” Victor barked, glancing impatiently at his gold wristwatch while still walking. “You know, how my schedule is today,, I am very busy”  "Have you checked the manifest? Are the goods here yet" Victor drifted for a second, alex nodded at each question, "Yes sir" his voice cracked slightly and impatiently, briefly meeting victor's gaze, 

Alex hesitated for a moment before blurting out, “It’s about the girl, sir.”  

His words made Victor freeze mid-step, his back straightening, as He turned slowly, his eyes narrowing. “What about her?” His voice dropped, a small crack  showing the emotions he always buried beneath his stern demanour. 

“She’s in danger,” Alex sighed, raising his phone. The glow of the screen illuminated blury  detail, a hired sniper, a time, a target.  

Victor’s jaw clenched as he snatched the phone from Alex’s hand. His eyes scanned the intel, and his pulse quickened. "Sophia" His fingers tightened around the phone, his usually impenetrable his emotions peaking through, as his eyes softened slightly.

“Call it off,” Victor ordered, his voice low but forceful.  

Alex shook his head, lowering his gaze. “It’s not that simple, sir. It’s the Jackson crew.”  

The name alone sent a chill through the air. Victor’s breath hitched. The Jacksons were professionals, hitmen, and they lived by a code, once they got paid, the only way to stop them was death.  

Victor took a deep breath raising his head to Alex, “When’s the hit?” Victor demanded, his mind already calculating a plan.  

“Wednesday, 6 p.m. New York time.”   Alex explained and Victor glanced at his watch. Less than nine hours.  His jaw tightened as the realization of what he had to do hit him, 

“Call the pilot,” Victor said, his tone leaving no room argument. “I’m going to Manhattan to save her myself.”  

“But sir, your meetings” Alex began, but Victor’s glare silenced him.  

“Did I stutter?” Victor’s voice was cold, his eyes darkening.  

Alex swallowed hard. “No, sir. Right away,” he stuttered, doing exactly what Victor instructed and runing down the hall to get the pilot. 

The jet hummed softly as Victor settled into the luxurious leather seat, his knee bouncing with restlessly and His fingers drummed against the armrest. His heart raced as he tried to relax, each second feeling like an eternity as he kept glancing at the time, the plan from Italy to Manhattan was an over 8 hours trip. 

"Is there a way the pilot could speed this up?" Victor asked, the thought of Sophia's life in danger ached his heart.

"I am sorry sir I don't think so," Alex seating in the chair adjacent to him replied. 

Victor sighed running his hands through his head, for the first time in years, he felt helpless, all he could do at the moment was pray they got there on time.