“You left me, baby girl. It’s for the better.”
She cries out to me, her despair cutting my heart. The sliced pieces fall to the ground with each step I take. Don’t turn around. Don’t you fucking dare ruin her life more than you have done.
Dazed, I climb into my car and drive to the club and follow my plan.
Work. Fight. Drink.
The first one is quickly completed. Competent employees are hard to find, but mine are fixers. Shit must hit the fan for them to bring me bad news. I reward excellence. That’s another reason my people are loyal. Plus, I have something none of them possess. Cruelty. Because just as I reward loyalty, I punish betrayal severely.
The fighting used to bring me a bit of comfort. For a few minutes, I could forget every fucking thing, trying to expunge my craving for her.
I fight as if I can pummel the space-time dimension and return to before the events of the last few days.
Three men lay bloody and limp in the cage. I stand above them, blood dripping from my knuckles, sweat covering my torso, feeling nothing.
I expel a long breath coated in despondency. Not even fighting works anymore, because she has taken over even that modicum of peace.
I don’t bother showering as I slip a black robe on and head back to the office.
Pouring myself a glass of vodka, the contents slosh around, vibrating in the rhythm of the music’s beat. I toss it back, groaning. Not even all the alcohol in the world could drown her out. Not even the loudest music could silence her call.
This club provides everything one can fantasize about. Drugs, exclusive parties, gambling, sex.
The compartments are so well hidden, you could never find your way without an invitation. The members are vetted to avoid problems, and it helps with potential blackmail material when needed.
Nothing is free in this world. That’s why I wanted to be above the system, so I could make my own rules. I am the king of my empire. What I say goes.
I bring the glass back to my lips. King of regret sounds fucking right.
Glancing at my watch, I see it’s eight in the morning, and I haven’t slept at all.
And I am on my second bottle of vodka.
When the elevator doors slide open, my jaw hardens, knowing who would come without me being informed first.
Enzo steps inside, frowning at me.
“I’m fine,” I slur.
Layers of worry line in his eyes. “I can see how not fine you are. I’ve been patient. What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
He glares at me, aware I am lying. Trust equals our bond. Without it, peril awaits in our world.
Not that I deserve his trust, but she’s my only weakness.
“I would die for you, asshole.” I remind him.
He strides inside, cocking his head as if wanting to dig inside me and find the root of my problem. “That’s not what I asked.”
“Shouldn’t you be ecstatic that you have every fucking thing you’ve ever wished for?”
“So, who the fuck do you want and can’t have? Tell me,” he urges, his eyes boring into mine.
I open my mouth, the name just at the tip of my tongue, but I can’t bring myself to say it. It’s too late. I squeeze my eyes shut as if to lock my feelings in.
“Come on. I dare you. Fucking tell me it’s my sister.”
