WHOEVER IT WAS WOULD SUFFER

Xavier Stone fiddled with the silver dagger in his hand, flipping it from one finger to the other, a passive expression on his face, on the other hand, the man in front of him was on his knees, shivering from the cold wind of the deserted meadows of the capital.

Cold but yet the man was soaked in sweat, his black hair matted to his forehead, and his palms rubbed together in front of him, begging. He had on a white shirt and blue pants before he was brought to the meadow, now half of it was soaked in blood and his pants were already a mess from his urine. The man kept his fear-filled eyes on the ground, his body shaking so much that Xavier wondered if the littlest wind would blow him away.

“I don’t know anything, sir, please!”

Xavier looked over his shoulder with a bored gaze, “You hear that?”

He said to the men that stood behind him. They were sixteen in number, all dressed in black suits and leather shoes, businessmen, Xavier’s men.

“He says he doesn’t know anything,” Xavier dead