𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞

Friends In High Places.

(Edited)

𝐍𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬

"Tell me Boris, tell me what compelled you to steal two point five million dollars from me? You've been working for me for five years, you were one of my most trusted men, I can't fathom how you could orchestrate such a betrayal," I said shaking my head while pacing up and down in front of my prisoner.

"Boss I was in between a rock and a hard place, I never wanted to betray you," was his pathetic response.
"You never meant to betray me," I repeated the statement to myself, testing the logic behind it.

If you never meant to do it, then why did you? If you knew what you were doing was wrong— was liable to get you or someone else killed—why take the risk? Why do it in the first place?

Hearing a low, guttural cough, I looked down at Boris and saw him cough up more blood, further staining his shirt and causing a mess on the floor, littered in bones and old blood stains, attestations of the many, many prisoners that have been tortured and ruthlessly murdered in this room.

Boris was a mess. His chest was covered in knife wounds and his once white shirt was torn and soaked in blood and his face didn't look much better. His left eye was swollen shut, his lip was busted and two of his front teeth had been knocked out, courtesy of the punches delivered by my men who had spent a great deal of time beating the life out of the miserable bastard.

"Now I'm going to ask you one more time Boris. What the fuck compelled you to steal from me?!" I yelled as I delivered yet another punch to his face. "It couldn't be money, I pay all of my associates a generous amount every week. Enough to secure your daughter's college fees, that's for sure. So why?"

"Boss I had no choice, the Donovan cartel was going to kill my wife, my child. I..I had to do what they asked," he cried out through a mouthful of blood. "They told me if I didn't come up with two point five million dollars by the end of the week, they were going to kill her! I couldn't watch her die, I just couldn't!"

"If you needed to pay them by a certain deadline you should've come to me. I would've paid them and your daughter would've been spared. But you had to go play Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to give to the poor. That was a downright stupid thing to do and it's cost you your life," I said coldly as I took out my Medallion Compact 380 ACP 3.63 and shot him three times in his head.

His body fell forward, dead as a doornail. With a disgusted sigh I tucked my gun in my trousers pocket and left the room, pulling off my bloody jacket to drape over my arm. It was late in the night and all I wanted to do was shower and get to bed.

I passed the maids who were cleaning the hallways and they stopped what they were doing and bowed to me, their eyes lowered and their bodies quivering just the slightest. I ignored them and continued on my way to my room on the fourth floor. The villa was empty with just me, the four dozen or so guards that were guarding outside and the maids.

My underboss Tobias was in his room with his girlfriend Charity and the rest of my men were working. Some were at the warehouse, some were on various jobs around the country and a couple were in a different part of the mansion, probably drinking and smoking with whores from the strip club.

Taking a cigarette from my pocket, I lit it and started walking to my room where I lived alone. No wife, no girlfriend. Just me and my troubling thoughts. My parents were still living in Rublyovka, Moscow where my siblings and I were born and raised.

My twin sisters were staying with my aunt and uncle in Sicily while my parents and older siblings fought in the war between the Sokolov family and the Andrysiak family, a truly nasty group of sadists who kidnapped young boys and girls to train them to fight and kill at the tender age of ten.