•Nikolai•

╌═❁═╌

Family. Honor. Loyalty.

These are the pillars of our existence, the core values that define us.

As the firstborn and only son of Luciano Costello, I, Nikolai Costello, have inherited the mantle of power. My father was the most feared Don in New York City, but now, it's my turn. I don't just follow in his footsteps—I surpass them.

I was molded to be strong, ruthless, and cold-blooded. Cruelty was a lesson drilled into me from a young age. Emotions were a weakness I was trained to purge.

I made my first kill at just seven years old, outdoing my father, who didn’t make his first until twelve. By twenty-four, I had already taken over the mafia, seizing power while my father was still alive. He only assumed control after my grandfather's death.

Surpassing my father isn't just a goal—it's my obsession. I won't stop until I've eclipsed his every achievement.

It wasn't that I had a bad relationship with him; I just loved to win.

My father carried the legacy of the underworld from his father. Which my grandfather inherited from his father and so on. We had ruled for generations and I intend to rule and carry on the Costello lineage.

My father inherited the legacy of the underworld from his father, who took it from his own, and so on for generations. The Costellos had ruled with an iron fist, and I was determined to continue and elevate our lineage.

When Luciano Costello retired due to failing health, he passed everything to me: the money laundering, large-scale drug trafficking, political connections, and our network of companies that masked our illegal operations and laundered our money.

The name Costello resonated with fear and respect across the entire country.

I am more feared than my father and grandfather combined. Those under me cower in my presence. Families loyal to me show unwavering respect. Every person who hears my name knows to tread carefully.

I picked up a glass tumbler from my desk and drank the whiskey. The liquid danced in my mouth for a few seconds before allowing itself to seep down to my throat, the burning sensation teased my throat. Reclining back in my seat, I placed both of my legs over the table.

Two of my men... They were my men until they decided to betray me. I watched with satisfaction as they were getting tortured to death in the next room. This special torture chamber was divided from my office by a one-way mirror.

This torture chamber was hidden behind the bookshelf of my office, specifically designed for traitors. Disloyalty was the biggest fucking sin in our world, I had no place for it. The one thing I could never forgive my people for is betrayal.

I felt like a god as I watched their blood drip down their bodies. I enjoyed tormenting and humiliating my enemies. I would make them suffer for hours on end before finally putting them out of their misery. I reveled in their agony as they writhed on the ground, their bodies slowly being eaten away by the acid that dripped from Marco's hands. This was the only thing that could quench the burning desire inside of me.

The door to my office creaked open. Selena poked her head in, keeping her gaze steadily on me. She knew better than to look around and see what was happening.

"Mr. Costello, Mr. Ramirez is here to see you."

I sighed and poured myself another glass of whiskey. "Send him in."

Favors.

People came to me for favors. I granted them, and in return, they sold their souls. That's how I earned the nickname "The Devil." I didn't mind; I liked the sound of it. What did bother me was how easily people traded their souls, as if they were mere bargaining chips.

Ramirez walked in, sweating like a pig. He heard the painful groans and glanced at the one-way mirror. I could see his Adam's apple bobbing up and down with fear. The smell of fear was all too familiar to me; most men reeked of it when they came to see me.

"Don Niko" he managed to say.

"Only my friends call me Niko, Ramirez. You and I... I don't remember us being friends"

He nervously laughed. "My apologies, Don Costello"

"What brings you here, Ramirez?"

His eyes went to my shoes resting on the table and then back to my face. "I needed a favor,"

"You know what asking me for a favor means, Ramirez? Your soul will belong to me"

"I'm aware. I'm desperate, I need help. I will do anything you'd want me to" he said, desperation exuding from his body.

I watched the barely alive men behind the mirror, crying like the cowards they were, asking for mercy, asking for forgiveness. They knew I don’t forgive traitors yet they went on and betrayed me anyway.

It was a shame that I had to destroy such valuable specimens, but their betrayal forced my hand. I pushed the button, and the walls of the chamber began to slide close. The men inside screamed and cried. They knew what was coming, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

"You see that?" I pointed toward the big, muscular men who were now reduced to whimpering, bloody messes. "This is what happens when someone crosses me"

"Don Costello, I swear on my daughter's life, I will do anything you'd want me to do. Just help me, get me out of this problem"

I savored his misery a bit more before I gestured for him to continue.

He nodded, and a smile covered his face. He slid back a chair to sit down, but I raised a hand, stopping him before he did.

"I don't remember telling you to sit."

The smile fell from his face before he pushed the chair back in its place and kept standing before me.

"It's about my daughter, Don Costello. I got into a fight with my landlord, one of your men. I couldn't pay rent this month. I didn't have the money. He..." his voice broke. "He took my daughter. She's just fifteen. He's holding her against her will until I pay him. I don't know if he hurt her or..." he started to cry. "Please, help me, Don Costello."

I nodded, got my feet off the table, and poured another glass of whiskey before sliding it across the table. "Take it," I ordered. He wiped his tears and took the glass.

"Consider it handled, Ramirez. Your daughter and your little rent problem."

He grinned like an idiot and sauntered around my desk. Bowing before me, he extended his hand, clearly expecting to kiss the family ring on my finger. I let him perform the ritual before swatting him away with a dismissive gesture.

"That'll be all, Ramirez. I'll reach out when I need something from you."

"Forever at your service, Don Costello," he said, his tone dripping with false reverence.

He placed a hand on his heart in a theatrical display and strutted out of my office.

I had men ready to give their lives for me at my single order all around the world. They gave me their lives and in return, I took good care of their families and friends. Their women and children were taken under our wing. Given that, their respect for me increased tenfold.

I pulled out my cell phone and called Alessandro. I told him what needed to be done for Ramirez and then hung up. I didn't have to tell him how to do his job; I just needed to order, and Alessandro knew what to do next. By this time tomorrow, Ramirez will own the house he lives in and will have his daughter back.

My phone rang as I placed it on the table. I checked the caller ID and placed the phone next to my ear.

"Father," I said.

"Niko, have you forgotten about your old man? It's been days since I last saw you," my father’s authoritative voice crackled through the line.

"I'll visit soon," I replied, glancing at the two men being crushed between the chamber’s walls. "I’ve been tied up with some minor issues."

"Your mother misses you," his voice softened, "though she can't say it but I feel she misses you."

"I'll come by soon."

"And it’s about time you fulfill the promise you made to Paul Russell. His daughter isn’t getting any younger."

His persistence about arranging my marriage was tiresome. I had no issue with the marriage itself; an heir was necessary, but staying in that marriage was irrelevant. It just seemed like terrible timing every time he brought it up.

"I don’t have time for marriage right now, Dad."

"Nonsense. You’ll make time! You need a queen by your side."

I snorted. Grace Russell, Paul’s daughter, was far from a queen. As far as I knew, she had been passed around by most of the men in New York City.

"Pops, I'll come to visit you soon. Just give me some time" I ran a hand through my hair as my frustration got the best of me.

"I'm afraid you don't have any more time, Nikki" he used the nickname that I hated. He always used it to assert his dominance, letting me know that he would always be superior to me just because he was my father. "I need a grandson. You need an heir, a successor. I'm not going to see the end of the Costellos just because my son can't stick to one woman."

"Pops, I—"

He interrupted me. "Just get married, get her pregnant, and then go back to your whores or whatever it is you do."

"I doubt Paul Russell would appreciate me using his daughter as a mere breeding vessel."

"Paul Russell is a scum. He’s only interested in his connections with us; he couldn’t care less about his daughter."

"Her name is Grace, isn’t it?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

"Yes, you met her at the New Year’s party—"

"Yes, I have..." the woman annoyed the shit out of me, "Quite a loquacious woman"

"Once she becomes Nikolai Costello’s wife, she’ll learn to keep her mouth shut," he said with a deep breath. "The Russells are coming next month. They expect either an engagement or a marriage, so make sure you’re there."

A muscle in my jaw twitched with irritation. "I’ll be there."

I slammed the phone down and tossed it across my desk in frustration. Grace Russell was a cheap piece of ass—a slut who’d spread her legs for anyone with a bit of power.

She’s just good for a quick fuck, and that’s all she’ll ever be. She’s not fit to be a wife for someone of my stature. I’m willing to bet most of my men have had their turn with her too.

I preferred my women clean. I had my own personal whores, meant to please me and only me. I didn’t share them and was intimate only with them—no one else. The women who served me didn’t even have permission to touch themselves without my explicit order. I'd rather marry one of my whores than be stuck with Grace Russell.

Scott stumbled through the door, his hair a mess, lips swollen, tie hanging loose, and his once-pristine white shirt wrinkled. It wasn’t hard to guess where he’d been.

Scott Mancini, my underboss and second in command, was half-Italian and half-American. We’d grown up together and attended the same boarding schools in England. His loyalty was invaluable to me; I knew he’d lay down his life to save mine if it ever came to that.

"Hey, man!" Scott burst in with a goofy grin plastered on his face.

"Get that creepy grin off your face," I growled, loosening my tie.

He glanced at the nearly-dead men and whistled. "What’s got your panties in a twist?"

"Do you know how weird ‘panties’ sounds coming from you?"

"Not as weird as it sounds coming from your mouth," he shot back with a laugh. "What’s up, Niko? You seem more pissed than usual." He plopped into the chair opposite me, propping his legs up on the table.

"Grace Russell!"

"Oh, you mean America's biggest cunt?" Scott grinned, his face lit up like a Cheshire cat.

I wanted nothing more than to smash that smug grin right off his face.

"Dad promised Paul Russell," I snapped.

"Shit, you’re screwed, my man," Scott chuckled.

"You’re not helping."

He slid his legs off the table and leaned in, his demeanor shifting to serious. "Want me to take care of it? What’s the order, boss?"

I picked up the glass tumbler and hurled it at the wall. My father’s word to Paul was as binding as a blood oath in our world.

"Dad gave Paul his word!"

Scott stood up, hands in pockets, a twisted smirk spreading across his face. "No Grace Russell, no word, no problem, boss."

I mulled over his suggestion for a moment. "Let me find another way before we start talking about offing the girl."

"Just give me a shout when you’re ready to change your mind."

My phone vibrated against the glass table. I answered and listened in silence as Lorenzo’s voice crackled through the receiver.

“It’s done, boss. We painted the town red...” His voice brimmed with exhilaration.

I smirked. To anyone else, it was just a phrase meaning they had a hell of a time. But when Lorenzo said it, it meant he’d literally splattered our enemies’ blood all over the place.

I ended the call and grabbed my car keys and wallet from the table.

“Scott, get a whore over to my place,” I ordered, running a hand through my hair.

Scott snapped a salute and exited the office. I needed a fucking release, and I needed it now.

•Evangeline•

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The first thing I saw was multiple bloody shoeprints, my chin trembled and I inhaled deeply. I wiped my tears and moved further into our home.

Blood...

There was blood everywhere. As I got close to our living room I saw someone lying on the ground. By his uniform, I could tell that he was one of the household's help.

Then I saw it, for the first time in my life I saw a dead body with a hole in his chest, the blood still oozing out of it. Fear became a tangible, living force that crept over me like some hungry beast, immobilizing me; my brain, holding me captive.

I covered my mouth with both of my hands to muffle my loud cries. No, please, this can't be happening, please.

I took two small steps backward. Terror sucked the very breath from my mouth. Pulse beating in my ears, blocking out all other sounds even my own.

Panicking, I ran inside the living room, stepping over the bodies that were lying in my way. Bodies... bodies... so many dead bodies. I could not find the ones I was looking for. I hoped they were not among all these dead people. I hoped they were alive but I couldn't find them, I couldn't see them.

And then I tripped over something, landing on all fours. I looked up and saw my mother's dead eyes staring back at me. I couldn’t scream. I could only open my mouth to find that even words had deserted me. I immediately shuffled closer to my mother's body.

Everything I ever knew and everyone I ever knew was laying right in front of me, in the pools of their own blood. I mumbled incoherent things through my hands and choked on my sobs.

With trembling and gentle hands, I held up my mother's head and put it on my lap. There were several bloodied holes in her chest and abdomen. I softly touched her cheek, a few hours ago, she had kissed me good night and now she was pale and so damn cold.

"Mom? Mom, please, talk to me! MOM! MOM, PLEASE!"

I screamed for her at the top of my lungs, but no matter how much I tried to talk to her, to wake her up, to let her know that here I was out of my room but she didn't listen. She didn't scold me or gave a reaction. She kept looking at the ceiling with her empty, dead eyes and her skin and lips were turning bluish-purple with each passing second.

Tears streamed down my face profusely and I made no effort to wipe them. My tears rained down on my mother's face but nothing seemed to bother her. I can't believe it, I refuse to believe that my mother had died. She can't! She just can't.

A streak of blood trailed down from the corner of her lips, I screamed, sobbed, and wailed but to no avail.

I need to save her, I need to save my mom. I gently placed her head down on the ground and ripped my dress from the bottom. I placed the piece of my dress over the giant gunshot wound over my mother's heart and it didn't help, instead, it got drenched in her blood as well.

I cried for help but no one was there to listen to my agonizing pleas. I had never seen this much blood before. I didn't know what to do.

This can't happen to me. I need them, I need my parents. I don't know about anything without them. They are my whole life. This can't happen.

I stubbornly cried out for help but I didn't know who to call. I didn't even know where my parent's cellphones were or how to use them.

"Mom, wake up, please, mom. I'll die without you. I don't know what to do. Tell me, please, tell me what to do! How to bring you back! There hasn't been a single day in my life when you weren't there for me! I don't want to see the light of day without you. Take me with you. You promised you'll be there for me, you promised, mom, PLEASE, WAKE UP!" I sobbed miserably.

My tear-stricken face was burning now. My voice had turned rough from all the screaming. The sound of my wailing and suffering echoed throughout the house.

I kept caressing my mother's lifeless face but then a pain-stricken cough resonated in the living room. My head shot in its direction as I stood up.

Someone was alive and he was here. I prayed, I prayed, please don't let it be my dad, please, don't be a dad. I hoped that dad would be fine, he is fine, and he will be fine.

I can not lose both of them. I will die, I just can't lose both of my parents. I slowly walked towards the sound and saw my dad trying to get up, all bloodied and injured. There were bruises on his face and blood was trickling down his forehead. He looked up and saw me standing in front of him. My mind blanked and suddenly, I didn't know what to do. I ran to my father's aid and engulfed him in my arms.

He was losing consciousness, his eyes were on the verge of closing.

"Dad, please, dad, no, I can't lose you too, please, dad!"

He coughed out blood. "Are you hurt, Evangeline? Did they hurt you?" he asked as he gave me a pained look.

"I'm fine, Dad, please, stay alive, stay with me... I'm so scared"

"I'm always with you, Evie, but you have to be strong now." he breathed out with difficulty.

"No, dad!"

"You have to get out of here, run as fast as you can, and never come back, you hear me, never come back here. Go!" he was breathing heavily.

"I'm not leaving without you, Dad. Please stay with me." I begged desperately.

I was losing him too, I just know. I could see the life draining out of his body. I'm going to be alone. When the realization dawned upon me, thinking of being out there... alone. I suddenly wanted it all to be a bad dream.

This is what I always wanted, to go out there and have a normal life but not like this, not alone. All of a sudden, I didn't want to have a normal life. I just wanted to have my old life back. The life in which I was happy and I was with my parents. The life in which, I wasn't alone.

I suddenly loathed the idea of the world out there. My parents were right, there were bad people everywhere. I will stay inside this house my whole life if it meant my parents would come back to life.

I felt a soft hand on my cheek that wiped my tears away, I opened my eyes and saw my dad looking at me with tear-filled eyes.

Dad smiled through the pain. "Goodbye, my precious little girl." saying that the warmth of his soft hand left me as it fell to the ground. With a sharp intake of breath, he left. He left me alone...

As the realization that I had lost both of my parents dawned upon me, I completely lost it. I screamed so painfully loud, enough to make me lose my voice. I cried out again but no sound came out of her mouth. I screamed and wailed and screeched but nothing came out of my throat. I lost my voice with anguish. I felt like someone was stabbing my heart again and again and I was unable to do anything about it.

I swiped at my eyes but the tears came anyway. I had wiped my eyes so much that they were red and swollen. My head hurt, my eyes hurt, and my whole body started to hurt but the pain in my heart was the harshest of them all. I tried calling for my dad again, hoping he will wake up and tell me that it was all a joke and that they were just playing a stupid prank on me.

No! No! No!

I need my family back! I need my parents back!

I stood up and walked to where my mother was. All I want is for my family to be back! I gripped my mother's cold legs and dragged her to where dad was laying. Her body had left a trail of blood behind but I chose to ignore it. I pretended I didn't see it because I just want my family back! With every last sliver of my strength, I dragged her body across the room and stopped when she was just beside my father. I placed her perfectly next to dad.

Perfect! Now they are together.

All I need to do now is hide the imperfections, so they look normal so that they look alive.

They are alive, just sleeping.

I ran to my parent's room and picked up their pillows and the sheets. I made my way back to my parents and gently placed their heads on their respective pillows leaving a little space between them. I then covered them with the sheets up to their necks so, no one could see the gunshot wounds.

They look better now but I still need to get rid of the blood from their faces.

I ran to the kitchen and saw all the maids and house help butchered, their bodies towered over one another as if someone had deliberately piled them over one another. Their bodies made some kind of a symbol, they were placed in a very specific manner and it scared me even more.

I placed my fist in my mouth to conceal the loud cries, I bit down hard on my hand. I just wanted this night to be over.

I took out the washcloth from one of the cabinets and doused it in hot water. I came back to my parent's side and cleaned off all the traces of blood from their faces.

Now they looked normal, perfect, just asleep. A loud sob bubbles up from my throat as I could hold the heartbreak no longer. I fell to the floor in a disheveled heap as my grief poured out in a flood of uncontrollable tears. I cried so much that no tears were left in my eyes.

I crawled in between my parent's bodies and lay there looking towards the ceiling. Everything is fine, we are fine. We are just going to sleep. It's night, it's late. We are sleeping, nothing else. I pulled my mother's arm over myself and then placed my dad's arm under my head, using his arm as my pillow.

I felt safe, I felt normal, I felt fine.

This is exactly how we used to lay together as a family, whenever I had a nightmare. My parents would come to my room and lay on either side of me. My mom would hold me while dad would use his arm as my pillow. Now I was laying here, wishing that when I would wake up this nightmare would be over and my parents are going to be fine and alive.

I looked at both of their faces with tears in my eyes, their stony, emotionless eyes, stuck in one place. Coldness radiated from their bodies. A bluish-purple shade appeared on their skin losing its previous pinkness and warmth.

"Dad, we are going to have so much fun moving, right? We will do all the stuff we never got to do. We will go to the beach and I'll go to a college. We'll go watch movies in the cinema as normal people do" I kept rambling mindlessly in an empty room with only my voice resonating throughout it with the occasional chirping of the crickets.

I lay between them, I could feel thick blood seeping into my clothes from under the sheets, I didn't even know if it belonged to mom or dad but I chose to ignore it.

It's a nightmare, Evangeline.

Tomorrow everything will be fine.

"Good night, mom and dad" I closed their eyes with the palm of my hand gently.

I closed my eyes. I needed to sleep, so, I could get out of this nightmare. I need to sleep, so, I could wake up. Tomorrow we will live another day like a normal family. We will move, buy a new house, and live our life just the way we thought that we will do.

And if not.

If for any reason, when I'll wake up tomorrow and this nightmare isn't over. I will kill myself, so, I could be with them. So, I could be with my parents.

•Nikolai•

╌═❁═╌

"Niko, Elijah Bolton was murdered. His entire family’s been wiped out," Scott reported over the phone.

I leaned back in my chair, sighing in annoyance. "All of them?"

"Yes, boss. Except for Leopold, the butler. He’s missing—no sign of him."

"Find him," I snapped, slipping into my suit jacket.

"On it, Niko. But you might want to get down here; there's a situation—"

I cut him off, "I’ll handle it. I’ve got other things to do."

I ended the call and strolled to the dining room. Bolton’s corpse could wait. I took my seat, picked up the newspaper, and sipped my coffee in silence, more interested in my own routine than staring at Bolton's dead face.

"Don Niko," a maid spoke up.

"What is it?" I asked, not looking up from my newspaper.

"My daughter graduated at the top of her class," she said with a smile. "She wanted to thank you for paying for her education."

Georgia had been working for me for ten years. Her daughter was smart; I’d done what was expected for anyone in my employ.

"She’s a bright kid. Is she planning on college?"

"Yes."

"Have her talk to Scott. He’ll sort it out."

"Thank you, Don Niko."

I finished my breakfast in silence, then got up as Scott’s call came through again. I sighed, buttoning my suit jacket. I had to deal with the mess at the Bolton mansion.

Elijah Bolton was my father's best friend, he was one of my Caporegime, my father considered him a brother. In our world, when you consider someone a brother it means you will give your life for him.

After my father retired, Elijah voluntarily drifted away from our family. I have been made aware that he had planned to leave the underworld and move to another country. A twisted smile made its way to my lips, I think his plans for a fresh start were flushed down the drain.

My cousin Marco flicked his cigarette on the ground as he saw me and opened the car door. I settled in the back and asked him to drive to the Bolton's mansion.

When we got there, the mansion was crawling with my men, I stepped out of the car and saw the bodies of the household help piled over one another. My men pulled out another body from the mansion and threw it over the pile.

Scott approached me. "Niko, I think you need to see something."

"What is it?"

He gestured for me to follow him inside. I followed him into the front door of Bolton's mansion, the giant wooden door was shattered and broken. Chunks of vases and furniture were scattered all over the place. The place looked like the aftermath of a warzone

Scott gestured toward the two bodies sprawled on the floor. The strange part was the girl sitting beside them, her back turned, her clothes drenched in blood and tattered.

"She’s been here for hours, just staring at the bodies," Scott said, his frustration clear. "No fucking idea who she is."

"One of the maids?" I asked.

"Doesn't seem like it. She was holding Elijah’s body and wouldn’t let anyone near them. They must be connected somehow."

I frowned. "Elijah didn’t have a child, as far as I know."

"That’s right. He lived here with his wife and Leo."

I nodded. "Any updates on Leopold?"

"Still nothing. Our guys are still searching." He paused, then asked, "What do you want to do about the girl?"

"Have Alessandro find out who she is."

"Already did. He’ll call back as soon as he has something."

I scowled. "Hasn’t she noticed everyone around her?"

"Bianca tried to talk to her, but she’s completely unresponsive. Looks like she’s in shock."

Scott’s phone buzzed, and Alessandro’s name flashed on the screen. After a brief call, Scott’s expression turned puzzled. I raised an eyebrow.

"Alessandro said there’s no public record of Elijah Bolton having a child. However, eighteen years ago, his wife was admitted to our hospital in labor, and the baby boy died during birth."

"So the child died, I know that. Then who the hell is that?" I demanded, pointing to the girl, her back still turned.

"That’s the million-dollar question."

"Get Bianca back here and have her try again. I need to know who she is."

Scott did as he was told. I watched as Bianca approached the girl, she placed a hand over her shoulder and the girl stiffened. She talked to her for some time before she got up and gave her head a small shake.

"Niko, I tried. She isn't saying anything---"

Bianca's words got cut off as an ear-piercing shriek rang throughout the room. My attention shifted back toward the girl. One of my men was trying to pick up Elijah's body but she threw herself over it, screaming like a fucking banshee.

"Dad, no! Please, no!"

Dad? So, she was Bolton's child.

One of them held her back as the two men dragged Elijah's body out of the house. She fought relentlessly, and my men let her go to pick up Elijah's wife, Mary's dead body. She tried to pull Mary's body from his grasp but her feeble attempts were nothing compared to his strength.

They dragged their dead bodies out of the house, and that's when she turned. Her face and clothes were covered in blood, tears streamed down her face as she followed the men holding her parent's dead bodies.

She tripped on her feet and then got up again. As she was about to run past me, I grabbed her arm stopping her. She didn't look at me at first as she attempted to break free. She kept looking at the men dragging the bodies away from her.

Suddenly, she just gave up and her body went limp. She broke down, crying like a child. She finally looked up at me, her eyes shining with tears.

"What is your name?" I asked her.

She frowned at me, her lips parted before her head hung low and she started to uncontrollably sob again.

"I asked you a question!" I snapped and she cowered away from me, trying to pull herself out of my grip.

My grip on her arm tightened. "I don't like to repeat myself! What is your name?"

"Ev--- ev---" she couldn't even form words in this miserable state.

"Niko, maybe, we should let her calm down first..." Bianca suggested.

"W-who a-are y-you?" she asked through her sobs.

"I'm a friend of your father's," I said, so she would fucking talk to me. I could care less about Elijah fucking Bolton.

"Someone killed my dad... they killed him... my mom and dad" her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs.

Scott placed a hand on my shoulder and my attention shifted toward him. "Boss, there was a drug bust. Police knew someone tipped them off"

A boiling fury swelled inside of me. "Motherfucker!"

I turned to Bianca and pushed the girl in her direction. "Take her home, clean her up, calm her the fuck down, and tell me who the fuck she is!" I ordered as the girl looked between me and Bianca with wide eyes.

I strode out of Elijah's mansion and got into my car. Scott followed closely behind.

"Niko, with the recent attacks on our men and now the drug bust, I think it's all connected to him."

"Let's pay our friend Mateo a visit" I gritted through my teeth.

We got to our warehouse, right in the middle of nowhere. I was flanked by Alessandro and Scott. Four more of my men trailed behind me as we approached Mateo's cell.

Mateo is the underboss of Ignacio Reyes. We have been at a war with Ignacio since he butchered my men in cold blood and breached my territory. I don't forgive the blood of my men that easily. I will not fucking rest till I have killed every single man of Reyes's family.

Ignacio has been going crazy over the disappearance of Mateo, he had an idea that I had him but didn't have the balls to challenge me to my face, I really want him too, so, I can shoot his fucking head off. Now sabotaging my shipments and trying to piss me off discreetly was his coward's way of attacking me. Such a fucking pussy.

Our footsteps echoed off the walls of the warehouse. I stopped outside Mateo's cell as Alessandro opened the door. The room was lit by a single light bulb and under it, Mateo was tied up to a chair, swollen and pissed off.

I put my hand in my pockets as I stood tall before him.

Mateo laughed and spat at my feet. It didn't reach me, but he tried. "Any special reason for this wonderful visit, Nikolai? I'm guessing your shipment of drugs didn't make it, did it?" he grinned.

I placed my palms over the table before him. "How do you know about that?"

He laughed, he fucking laughed at me. "We are way ahead of you, Nikolai. We know your every move."

"You really like to laugh, don't you, Mateo?"

"Not really but laughing at you" he took a deep breath in, relishing the moment of his insignificant win. "It's something else, isn't it?"

"Alessandro?"

"Yes, boss?"

"Help Mateo improve his laugh."

Alessandro opened up his toolbox and took out a metal mouth gag and pliers. Panic flashed through Mateo's eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line as he tried to close his mouth as hard as he could.

A brutal punch connected with his jaw, and his mouth opened with a grunt. Alessandro shoved the mouth gag into his mouth as Scott helped him with it. Alessandro went straight for his front tooth. With his strength, he had no problem pulling his front tooth out, a high-pitched scream rang out through his cell. Saliva mixed with his blood trailed down his chin. Without giving him a chance to gather himself, Alessandro went for the second tooth and pulled it out. Mateo made an animalistic wail. I raised a hand and Alessandro stopped immediately. He took off the mouth gag and stepped aside as Mateo cried like a little bitch.

"Now, are you ready to talk?" I asked

"Go fuck yourself, Nikolai! You'll never get anything out of me!" he shouted.

"Well, I gave you a chance."

I glanced at Alessandro and he knew what to do next. I stepped out of Mateo's cell and strolled down the dark hallway of the warehouse I could hear Mateo's scream resonating throughout it.

Alessandro had the most creative ways to torture information out of people. Now or later, I know Mateo will talk.

I got to my mansion and took off my suit jacket, I threw it over the couch and unbuttoned my cuffs before folding them up.

Bianca entered the living room and walked over to me. "Niko, the girl..."

I leaned back on the couch putting my feet over the coffee table. "What about her?"

"She keeps on crying. The maid took her to take a bath---"

Fucking, shit, I forgot about the girl. "Where is she?"

Bianca reluctantly pointed towards the guestroom. I made my way to it and opened the door only to find it empty. I heard the water running in the bathroom and walked to it. I stood outside the bathroom, leaning against the doorframe.

She was sitting in the bathtub. Her knees to her chest, her brown long hair draped over her back. She was still crying her eyes out as maids poured water over her head, washing away the blood from her face.

She wasn't saying anything, she wasn't stopping the maids from showering her. I silently watched as her olive skin glistened with water, her whimpers and the running water were the only two sounds that resonated in the bathroom.

"Her name is Evangeline," Bianca voiced from behind me. "Evangeline Bolton... she is eighteen years old and Elijah Bolton's only daughter. At least that what's she told me"

"She talked to you?"

"Yes, but she is scared shitless, and I believe she is telling the truth"

"Bolton had a daughter, and he kept her a secret? How the fuck did he pulled that off for eighteen years?"

Bianca lifted a shoulder. "Bolton really loved her. She wouldn't be crying like this if he had abused her or anything. Maybe, he wanted to keep her safe from our world"

"Hm..."

It would make sense. Bolton hiding away his daughter so men like us won't find her.

"What are you going to do with her?" Bianca asked.

I haven't decided what I'm going to do with her just yet. I don't normally have to deal with a girl like this and I'm not even sure why I brought her to my house.

"I haven't decided yet."

Bianca nodded. "I can take her to my place if that helps. You don’t have to deal with her—"

I cut her off with a sharp shake of my head. "No. She stays here until I figure out what to do with her."

Bianca’s shoulders tensed, but she nodded. "Understood, Niko."

"Good. You can go now. I’ll contact you if she needs anything."

Bianca nodded and left afterward. I stood there and watched her, the maids put shampoo in her hair, and she let them. After they were done, the maids asked her to step out of the bathtub. Slowly and cautiously she tried to stand up.

I heaved a sigh and turned to go to my study. I wasn't a fucking pervert, I wasn't going to stand there and watch her dressing up, I left her room and let her do her thing.

Right now, I fucking had more important things to do.