Chapter 16
16
T he dim basement was suffocating, the single flickering bulb casting erratic shadows on the bare concrete walls. Petros sat bound to a metal chair in the center of the room, his wrists tied tightly behind him. His shirt clung to his sweat-drenched back, and his eyes darted wildly around the room, searching for a shred of mercy he already knew wasn’t there.
Dimitris leaned against the wall, his knife flipping open and shut with a steady, almost hypnotic rhythm. The metallic click was the only sound, save for Petros’s shallow, erratic breathing. Across the room, Elias stood with his massive arms crossed, his hulking figure blocking the only exit. Ajax prowled behind Petros, his steps deliberate, his gaze sharp as he watched the man squirm.
“You know he’s coming,” Dimitris said finally, his voice smooth, almost conversational. The sound made Petros flinch. “And when he gets here, there’s no stopping what happens next.”
Petros shook his head frantically, his voice cracking as he stammered, “I don’t—I didn’t—please?—”
“Shut it,” Elias growled, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. He pushed off the wall, taking a slow step closer, his size casting a shadow over Petros. “You think we care what you didn’t do? You think the boss gives a damn about your excuses?”
“He doesn’t,” Dimitris cut in, the faint smirk on his lips sending a chill down Petros’s spine. “You’ve worked for him long enough to know that. The only thing Michalis cares about is loyalty. And you…” He let the words hang in the air, the unspoken accusation slicing through the room like a blade.
Petros’s breath hitched, his eyes wide with terror. “I didn’t mean to betray him!” he cried, his voice shaking. “I—I didn’t know?—”
Ajax stopped pacing, his boots scraping against the concrete as he came to stand directly behind Petros. He leaned down, his voice low and deadly in Petros’s ear. “That’s the thing about betrayal. It doesn’t matter if you meant to or not. You crossed the line. And now…” He trailed off, his meaning clear.
Dimitris pushed off the wall, flipping his knife shut with a final, decisive click. “You have one chance, Petros,” he said, his tone calm but laced with menace. “Talk. Now. Tell us who paid you. Tell us how she got that ticket. Because the second Michalis walks through that door…” He paused, tilting his head slightly. “Well, you already know, don’t you?”
Petros whimpered, his entire body trembling as he looked between them. He did know. He had seen the aftermath of Michalis’s rage before—the unrelenting, merciless force of a man who did not tolerate betrayal.
“Boss doesn’t forgive traitors,” Elias rumbled, his deep voice almost pitying. “Ever.”
“You think this is bad?” Ajax added, his voice cold. “This is nothing. He doesn’t even need us. When he’s done with you, there won’t be enough left to clean up.”
Petros’s breathing grew erratic, his chest heaving as panic clawed at him. His mind raced, searching for an escape that didn’t exist. “I—I don’t know anything,” he stammered weakly, his voice cracking.
“Wrong answer,” Dimitris said flatly, his smirk vanishing. He gestured to the door. “And now, you’re out of time.”
The door creaked open, the sound reverberating through the room like a death knell. Petros froze, his blood running cold.
The air in the room shifted the moment Michalis entered, his presence suffocating, commanding. His sharp eyes swept over the scene, taking in Petros’s trembling form, the sweat dripping from his brow, the way his shoulders hunched as though trying to shrink into the chair. Michalis’s expression was unreadable, his movements deliberate as he closed the door behind him with a quiet click.
No one spoke. Dimitris stepped back, his usual smirk replaced by a neutral mask, while Elias and Ajax stood still, their gazes shifting to Michalis as though awaiting his command.
Michalis crossed the room slowly, the measured scrape of his shoes against the concrete floor the only sound. He stopped just in front of Petros, his imposing frame looming over the bound man. For a long moment, he said nothing, letting the silence stretch until it became unbearable.
Petros whimpered, his breathing ragged. “B-boss,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please—I didn’t?—”
Michalis’s hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of Petros’s hair and yanking his head back sharply. The chair screeched against the floor, the sound harsh and grating.
“You betrayed me,” Michalis said softly, his voice calm but laced with cold fury. His piercing stare locked onto Petros’s, unblinking. “Do you know what happens to traitors, Petros?”
Petros’s lips trembled, but no sound came out. His chest heaved as he struggled to breathe, his terror overwhelming him. His entire body shook, and a dark stain spread across the front of his pants, the pungent smell of urine cutting through the damp air.
Michalis’s gaze didn’t waver, didn’t soften. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You don’t get to beg. You don’t get to plead. You get one chance to tell me who gave you that ticket. One. Chance.”
“It was him!” Petros choked out, his voice breaking. “A man—David! He said his name was David! He paid me—he said it was important, that it was for his wife, that it was private! I didn’t know—please, boss, I didn’t know?—”
Michalis held his gaze for a long moment, the silence in the room growing heavier with each passing second. Then, slowly, he released Petros’s hair, letting the man’s head fall forward as he sagged in the chair, trembling and sobbing.
Michalis straightened, his expression cold, detached. Without a word, he removed his jacket, his movements deliberate. The air in the room grew colder, the tension so thick it was almost suffocating.
Dimitris cleared his throat, his tone casual but carrying an undercurrent of dark amusement. “Well, Petros,” he said lightly. “You heard the boss. Traitors don’t get to walk away.”
Michalis stepped forward, his shadow falling over Petros. “Cry all you want. You’re going to tell me everything you know about ‘David’.”
The traitor’s sobs grew louder, echoing off the concrete walls as the door creaked open.
Dimitris’s head snapped toward the sound, his instincts flaring to life. Aurelia stood framed in the doorway, her expression uncertain, her hand still on the door handle. She hadn’t seen much yet, but her presence alone sent a ripple of tension through the room.
Dimitris moved swiftly, cutting her off before she could step inside. “Aurelia,” he said smoothly, his voice calm but firm, “you shouldn’t be down here.”
Her eyes darted past him, searching for Michalis. She didn’t quite see him, but she could sense something was wrong. The air was thick, oppressive, and the dim light from the hallway cast uneasy shadows on the walls.
“What’s going on?” she asked, her voice tinged with confusion. “Why are you down here?”
Dimitris stepped forward, pulling the door shut behind him with a soft click before she could see anything more. “It’s just business,” he said, his tone light and casual. “Michalis is handling it. Nothing for you to worry about.”
Her brow furrowed, and she folded her arms over her chest, her expression skeptical. “What kind of business? Why is it in the basement?”
Dimitris gave her a lopsided grin, leaning casually against the door as though the situation was entirely mundane. “You know how Michalis is. He likes his privacy when he’s working out deals.”
“Deals?” she repeated, her voice uncertain. She tilted her head, studying him. “What kind of deals happen in a basement?”
“Sensitive ones,” Dimitris replied smoothly, not missing a beat. “Sometimes it’s better to talk where no one can overhear. You know how our world is—lots of people like to eavesdrop.”
A faint sound leaked through the door, a muffled cry that barely reached her ears. Her lips parted, her eyes darting toward the closed door, a flicker of unease crossing her face. “What was that?”
“Plumbing,” Dimitris said quickly, his grin widening as though it was the most obvious answer in the world. “This old place has pipes that creak and groan like they’re alive. We’ve been meaning to fix it for years.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly, doubt flickering in her expression. “It didn’t sound like plumbing.”
“It didn’t?” Dimitris feigned surprise, his tone light and playful. “Maybe it’s a rat, then. Big, nasty ones down here. I wouldn’t hang around too long if I were you.”
Her gaze flicked to him, her brow furrowing. “What’s going on?” she asked, her voice tinged with worry. “I heard—” She stopped abruptly as a muffled cry echoed from behind Dimitris, the sound sharp and raw, cutting through the heavy air.
Dimitris didn’t falter. He shifted slightly, his tall frame blocking her view of the door behind him. “It’s nothing you need to worry about,” he said with an easy smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Michalis is handling some business, that’s all.”
Her frown deepened as she fidgeted with her wedding ring, twisting it round and round. “You already said that,” she said, skepticism threading her voice. “What kind of business?”
Dimitris’s expression didn’t waver. “The kind that doesn’t concern you,” he said, his voice dropping slightly. “Michalis wouldn’t want you down here. Come on, let me take you back to the main house.”
Aurelia hesitated, her instincts screaming that something was wrong. The faint sound of a pained sob leaked through the heavy door, making her stomach twist. “Dimitris,” she said softly, her tone uncertain, “who’s in there? What’s happening?”
“A mistake was made,” Dimitris replied evenly, his calm demeanor never faltering. He rested a hand lightly on her shoulder, steering her away from the door. “And Michalis is fixing it. That’s all you need to know.”
“But—” she started, her voice faltering as another muffled sound reached her ears. Her chest tightened, unease prickling at the edges of her mind. “I don’t understand. Did…did Michalis make a mistake?” She hesitated, her gaze flicking between him and the door. “Dimitris…is he okay?”
Dimitris softened slightly, his smirk fading as he straightened. “He’s fine,” he said, his voice quieter now, more sincere. “He’s just busy. Let him finish up, and I’ll bring him back to you when he’s done. Come on, let me walk you back.”
Her lips pressed together, uncertainty still clouding her expression. But the calm certainty in Dimitris’s tone, combined with his easy smile, made her hesitate. Finally, she nodded, though the tension in her shoulders didn’t ease.
“All right,” she said softly. “But tell him…just tell him I was looking for him, okay?”
Dimitris nodded, stepping aside to guide her toward the stairs. “Of course. Now, let’s get you back to the main house before one of those rats decides to say hello.”
He placed a light hand on her shoulder, steering her away from the door. As they walked, she glanced over her shoulder once, but the door remained firmly shut, the faint echoes of the basement fading into silence as they ascended the stairs.
As the door clicked shut behind Dimitris, sealing the room in oppressive silence once more, Michalis stood motionless, his full attention fixed on Petros, who was now openly sobbing, his shoulders shaking as he choked on his pleas.
“You’ve been here long enough to know how this ends,” Michalis said coldly, his voice devoid of emotion. He rolled up his sleeves with deliberate precision, the faint rasp of fabric against skin the only sound in the room. “Traitors don’t get second chances. But before you die, you’re going to tell me everything you know about David.”
Petros whimpered, his words garbled and incoherent as he tried to plead for his life. But Michalis didn’t flinch, didn’t hesitate. His expression was carved from stone, his gaze sharp and unrelenting.
“Elias,” he said quietly, his tone carrying the weight of command. “Lock the door.”
Elias stepped forward without a word, his heavy footsteps echoing as he turned the key in the lock. The faint sound of the bolt sliding into place reverberated through the room, final and unyielding.