Ottavio's p.o.v

Light from the single bulb in the basement lightened up the dark building, the basement smelled of metal and copper. A smell that settles in when blood has been the fixture for more than an hour.

Loud screams filled the basement as Rico continuously administered blows to the man tied to an iron rod in the middle of the room. I stared at the blood dripping off his chest and then to the sick smirk emanating from the man who had made the order. Brown.

“Rico, even an old bitch delivers better punches,” he spat out, sniffing the white nicotine on his palm. The actions displaying before him a perfect entertainment.

Brown pushed himself off the wall and walked forward, every step deliberate. When he reached the captive he jabbed the barrel of his gun low, pressing it against the man’s groin in a humiliating, animal motion. The police chief’s eyes flashed with fresh panic.

“You dared point a gun at me,” Brown said, the accusation slow and precise. “And you let a bitch think she saved me?” His tone was harsh, almost like the thought of a woman saving him sounded like a curse.

The man tried to speak. It came out all wrong. Slurred, cut with blood. “I…I was…just doing my job,” he gasped.

“How did you know I’d be at the warehouse?” Brown demanded, leaning in, looking for names and channels.

The police chief’s answer came out rushed “anonymous,” he kept repeating the word. Coward. I thought.

Rico stepped forward, watching the man like someone watching a commodity. He considered the trembling pleas and then looked to Brown. “Boss,” he asked, voice level, “should I kill him?”

Brown’s eyes flicked to Rico, then to me. I knew what his answer would be. Just like I know everything he would ask later. He was a sick bastard who kills for sport but he had a head for return on investment. One thing I know for sure, the man isn't living here unscathed.

“No,” Brown said after a pause. Like he had thought hard and long for the response “He’ll be of use…But,he needs a reminder not to mess with a Marino ever.”

Just like I thought.

“Hold his hands out,” Brown ordered. He beckoned at me to hand over the gun. I stepped forward, seeming bored with the show of power. It was the same thing over again. I gave him the gun after I had secured a silencer on the tip and then I walked back to my position beside the door.

Brown shot at the man’s finger.

The blast was muffled by the silencer, but the scream that tore out of the police chief’s throat shook the room like an earthquake. He thrashed in the chair, chains rattling, blood spurting as what was left of his finger dangled at an odd angle.

Brown didn’t even blink. He twirled the gun lazily in his hand, then crouched to the man’s level.

The chief’s face twisted, pale from the blood loss, sweat mixing with the dirt and crimson streaming down his jaw. He whimpered something that sounded like please.

Brown leaned in close enough for the man to feel intimidated. “The next time you even think Marino is a name you can touch, I’ll carve my initials into your skull and have your family dine on what’s left of you.”

He pressed the silencer to the man’s temple and held it there. A long, heavy silence followed, broken only by the man’s ragged sobs.

Then Brown smiled slowly. He lowered the weapon and stood up. “Patch him up, but don’t fix him,” he ordered Rico. “Let him remember the price of breathing in my air.”

Rico nodded, already signaling two men in the shadows to step forward with a kit. They weren’t medics, they were butchers who knew just enough to keep a man alive in pieces.

I watched Brown return the gun to me, his lips curling into that signature smirk of his. “Ottavio, make sure his department gets a little donation tomorrow. We wouldn’t want them thinking their chief lost his way for nothing.”

Always the same Brown blood and bribes. He patted my back as he led me outside away from the mess happening in the background. “Make sure you find out who that anonymous tip is from and bring that person to me dead or alive,”

I nodded, “Is there any other thing you want me to do?” I asked and he glared at me. My lack of acknowledgement of his position. “Boss,” I muttered almost painfully.

“You may go,” he dismissed and I turned my back to him, wanting to put space between us.

“Ottavio,” he called out into the night. “Get that lady to go out with me.” I didn't need him to clarify which lady he's talking about, I knew it was the blue eyed terror from earlier.

“How?”

“Figure it the fuck out.” He spat, anger simmering in his tone. “And figure out why the fuck a runaway princess is still retaining her name.”

With that, he stepped back into the basement, closing the door with a bang.

It was easy for me to frustrate him. He gets easily rattled. Anger issues

In the two years I had worked for him, I had made my worth so glaring that he could only endure my attitude.

Over the years I had built up my emotional self control but right now I could feel a finger clawing at it. This blue eyed woman seemed to be getting through to Brown, which could be a problem for me.I shouldn't have let her go that day in the club, I should have shown her the full insight of what Brown had wanted me to do.

Invade her privacy,take a picture of her naked, threaten her to say the name of the assumed enemy who had sent her and if she managed to prove that she wasn't sent, I would check her phone to make sure.

Well that was the cycle until it was her turn, I didn't know why I stopped. I should have gone ahead but the thought of stripping her without her permission seemed to unsettle me.

Even as Brown knew I was an asset, he would never take disrespect lightly. With him it was always either the ladies or me someone had to bend. But with her, I froze. I should have gone ahead with the plan, maybe that would have scared her off, made her another name on the list of broken women who learned quickly. Made her run up to another money bag.

But I doubt it. She didn’t seem like the type that backs down. No, she had that look in her eye blue fire that told me she had a fight in her. The kind of woman who hears what you have, knows how dangerous it is, and still dares you to try and take her under.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, a perfect distraction to pull me out of my thoughts. The screen flashed Bruno's name.

“What?” I barked into the phone, which earned a light chuckle on the other end.

“Calm down tiger,” My partner said, his tone laced with amusement.

“What do you want, Bruno? I'm not interested in small talks”

“Well, the employment ritual will begin tomorrow, I thought you would like to know.” He announced and my eyes shut instinctively, as I stopped in my tracks.

“I'll be there.”

But first I have an assignment to carry out.