Chapter 1
“Adam, no …” Terror detonates in his eyes.
Oh-ho, how I savor every filthy second of the panic I forced into him.
Are we all born evil?
Is this a curse given to us the minute we take our first breath, or is it something we earn as we find out what it takes to survive?
That pulsing feeling that graciously tingles your spine, driving you to become a sinner, and slowly, you grow to embrace the feeling and even anticipate it. The adrenaline that courses through your veins as you make the choice:
On which side does your soul belong?
Well, mine belongs to the dark side.
Some of us weren’t born evil, but we’ve learned to love it.
“Please, just let me explain,” Neil wails, his voice shaking.
Sweat drips from his temple and pools his torn and bloodied shirt.
I drive my punch through his face. “Didn’t I let you enough?” I pant, squeezing the knife tighter in my fist. “Wasn’t I fair with you?”
“Y-You were,” he stammers, tears carving thin lines through the dirt on his cheeks.
“You were,” I repeat, mocking him. “Then why the fuck don’t you appreciate it?”
“I do. Please, please, please,” he breathes, lowering his head as if praying. “Please, give me some time and I’ll make it right.”
I glance at him, unimpressed. “Sure. Let me just pause reality until you get your shit together.”
“Adam, I—”
In an instant, I drive the knife into his shoulder, causing him to scream in pain. I seize his collar and hoist him into the air.
“Adam isn’t here at the moment,” I hiss.
“Please—” he sobs. “I’ll do anything.”
“Adam! Calm the fuck down!” Michael shouts at me, turning red. “Alaric wants him alive.”
“Aww. I guess I’ll just give him a warm hug, then,” I taunt, tossing his useless meat back on the chair.
Was I always rebellious? Yes.
Did I ever give a shit? Nope.
“Please, Michael.” He pants, shaking his head. “I just want to go home.”
I bend forward and slowly twist the blade in his shoulder, relishing each ragged howl that rips from him as his body convulses. “You will, honey. I’ll make sure of it. I just can’t assure you in how many pieces.”
He sobs, pathetic little tears running down his cheeks.
Adrian sighs behind my back, agitated. “And here I thought I’d walk in on something civilized. Silly me.”
Ugh, this piece of shit.
“Adrian, please …” Neil wheezes, begging like a miserable fuck to whoever is close enough to hear him. As if anyone gives a damn.
How foolish of him to think that the boss’s spoiled brat will save his pathetic ass.
“Ah, the apple of my eye,” I jeer. “Did you finish your homework, boy?” I remove the blade from Neil’s shoulder, causing him to scream again.
“I thought Dad was pretty clear about keeping him alive,” he shouts, trying way too hard to sound dangerous.
He’s all smirk and swagger. He’s the kind of asshole who thinks daddy’s kill list makes him royalty. Adrian’s got that punch-me face. I can feel the urge to crack his skull and watch that smugness drain out of him.
“Chill. He’s still alive.” I wipe my blade on Neil’s clothes.
Adrian pulls out his gun and presses it to my temple. “Don’t you dare throw that mocking, shitty attitude at me, Adam. You’re not half as funny as you think you are.”
He did not …
Everyone in the room freezes. The only sounds I can hear are Adrian’s and Neil’s ragged breaths.
I’m two seconds from smashing that smug look off his face.
I click my tongue. “You confuse me so much, Adrian.” I look down at my clean blade. “I don’t know if you’re trying to impress someone in here or save this filthy cockroach.” I raise a brow. “Either way, you suck at it.”
“I don’t give a shit about him or anyone else,” he hisses, spitting with rage. “I am the boss here. I give the orders. Don’t make me remind you what happens when you bite the hand that feeds you.”
I huff out a smile and take a step closer to him. “Remind me. Please.”
“Adrian …” Neil breathes weakly.
“Shut up, you bitch!” Adrian shouts in his face, making him wince.
I choke down a laugh.
“I am going to kill you,” Adrian says, pressing the muzzle harder into my forehead. “I really don’t understand what Dad sees in you, but when I take over this fraternity, I will—”
“Adrian,” Alaric barks, his voice steady and stupidly commanding.
I lean into the barrel, amused. “Promise me one thing when you ‘take over.’ Replace your face in the mirror with something less … punchable.”
He stares at me, forces down whatever arrogance he can’t afford, then lets the gun drop.
“Good boy.” I smile widely.
Alaric’s slow steps echo off the filthy concrete, snatching the frat boys’ wide-eyed attention. All except mine. My gaze returns to the pathetic fucker dying on the chair in front of me. His head hangs low, blood dripping from his busted lip.
I can practically taste his fear.
I don’t give a shit about Alaric’s little show. I’m here for one thing only—to make him suffer.
“Adam. I see you got to work already,” Alaric says with a fake smile.
I exhale, my eyes raised, wishing to find the strength in me not to butcher them all. “Why wait when I can enjoy some old-fashioned torture?” I take out my second knife from the thigh holster. “I mean, he’ll die anyway.”
Alaric chuckles broadly, shaking his head in disapproval.
I know this attitude.
Do I care? Still no.
He walks closer, grabs my shirt’s collar, and looks me in the eyes. “What did I tell you?”
I scratch my brow with the blade. “Please, do remind me.”
He takes one step closer and tilts his head. Gosh, he thinks he can scare me. “Orders were clear. Do not kill him.”
“I don’t remember such an order. Besides, are you both blind? He’s still alive, isn’t he?”
“Don’t test me, Manson,” he hisses through clenched teeth.
I raise my hands, the blades still in my palm. “I would never.”
That’s the thing about Alaric. He runs this fraternity like a war zone. He doesn’t shout to be obeyed; he just looks at you, and suddenly everyone remembers they cherish their sorry asses.
The others think he’s unhinged when he’s angry, and maybe he is, but that’s what makes them follow him.
Me? Let’s just say I don’t give a damn about that, either. I’ve seen worse things than Alaric. Enough to know he’s not the real monster here. At least, not one that can scare me.
“Alaric, please,” Neil wails.
“You! Shut the fuck up!” I shout at him.
“I’m not gonna lie; I love seeing you in action, Manson,” Alaric praises. “But you need to calm the fuck down.”
Neil starts sobbing louder, but then the most interesting thing happens.
The pathetic cries and pleads for mercy turn into laughter. Disgusting and conceited laughter. Fucking traitor.
“Leash your fucking dog and let me go,” he says through bloody teeth.
I’ve seen a lot of people beg. Some cry for their mothers. Some promise me money, or entire kingdoms that don’t even exist.
I slam my fist into his jaw. His head snaps to the side, spit and blood splattering the floor.
“Did you just ignore me?” I lean in and rest my hands on the arms of the chair. “Didn’t you hear when I told you to shut the fuck up?”
“I did, pretty boy. I just chose to blow you the fuck off.”
Where did he find such a spine?
Everyone has a line. Limits that should never be crossed, because once they are, something breaks. That’s when they snap and let the darkness swallow them whole.
It’s the trigger to make everything human inside them disappear, consumed by the bane that’s been waiting all along to eat them alive.
How intoxicating it is to hold someone’s life in your hands? To feel their fate trembling between your fingers, knowing you can snuff them out like a cheap candle.
And this motherfucker just crossed that fucking line.
“Where’s that sickness, pretty boy?” he continues.
People talk about the angel and the devil on your shoulders.
My angel stopped arguing a long time ago.
I shove my blade right up under his chin, burying it to the hilt. I hold it there, watching every last spark of life drain away, savoring every second of that filthy, electric power humming through my veins.
I pull the blade out and step back, breathing steady.
“You piece of shit,” Adrian hisses.
Alaric clicks his tongue. “I thought I was clear with you, Manson.” He steps closer and grabs my collar tightly, pulling me into to him. “I told you, I needed him alive. He was supposed to lead us to the others!”
Same old tricks.
Slowly, I remove his hands from me, my gaze fixed on his.
“He wasn’t leading us anywhere. He was buying time. You know it. I know it. He would’ve lied, stalled, gotten more people killed. I finished it.” I smile. “You’re welcome.”
The rest of our men stay silent. Almost breathless.
Alaric’s jaw tightens, his voice low and icy. “You disobeyed a direct fucking order.” He takes out his gun and sticks it on my forehead. Like father, like son.
“You think I’ll pat you on the back for going rogue or that I give a damn about your cowboy bullshit?”
“Don’t you always?” I ask, tossing the blades onto the metallic table. “I deliver finality.” I lean forward, my eyes nailed on his, the muzzle pressing harder against my skin. “Why don’t you just admit that I deprived you of the satisfaction to kill that fucker on your own?”
He doesn’t talk, just peering into my eyes. I guess I hit a nerve.
He removes the gun from my forehead and pauses for a few seconds. Then his lips form a wide grin.
“Adam fucking Manson. You’re a fucking asshole, and deep down, I hate you.”
I grab Neil’s corpse, shove it on the ground, and take my seat right in front of him. I cross my ankles and rest the back of my head on my palms. “That makes both of us.”
“I won’t deny it. You’re my finest killer and the most dangerous thing I’ve ever seen.”
I know I stand out among the others. It’s just the truth I can’t ignore. Okay, maybe a little bit of ego, too.
His smile freezes. “Leo Anderson.”
I lean forward in the chair. “What about him?”
“He’s your next task. You earned it.”
Leo fucking Anderson. A filthy bastard who climbed to the top over corpses, built his fame and fortune on blood, and now he’s stooped so low he’s trafficking kids.
I’ve been waiting over a goddamn year for this. Alaric knows it too well. Now I’m like a starving dog tearing into a fucking bone.
“You’re starting tomorrow,” he adds.
I stand. “I won’t need more time. I’ll finish it tomorrow.”
A sinister smirk spreads across his face. “That’s my boy. That’s my Bane.”
He lingers in the empty stable for a bit longer, savoring my anticipation to gut that motherfucker sooner than he believes. Then, he turns his back and walks away, signaling the rest of the men to follow.
Everyone leaves the room with him. All except for Michael.
I run my fingers through my hair and walk out of the place, with Michael following close behind, eager to start talking. I mount my beautiful black R1M and take my leather gloves in hand.
“How lucky are you, huh?” He crosses his arms. “I’ve been wanting to end this bastard for months now.”
“It’s fucking time, buddy.” I smile broadly, unable to believe my luck. “Maybe I’ll record his last moments and save it on my phone. Nothing relaxes me like watching a man realize he’s out of time.”
“You know you can’t kill him the same day he hires you, right? It’ll raise suspicions.”
I clap my hands once and rub them together. “Oh, I’ll skewer him like a fucking kebab.”
“Adam …”
“This bastard. This … this fucking mafia cockroach! I’ll rip his guts out, maybe let him write a thank-you note and shove it in his ass right before he begs me to—”
“Adam!”
“What?”
“You’re being sadistic again,” Michael blurts, his brown eyes widening.
“And?”
“We’re just hitmen, pal. We’re not butchers.”
“Speak for yourself.” I pull my leather jacket’s sleeves higher. “Nothing satisfies me more than killing those bastards.”
“Why? What have they done to you?”
“Well … let’s just say they’ve earned it.”
He doesn’t say any more. He’s probably trying to solve the puzzle.
Michael’s the only person in this shithole I don’t mind being around. I wouldn’t say we’re as close as brothers, but he’s a nice guy. Maybe too nice to exist in a world of blood and punishments.
“Leave it, man. Let’s go out for drinks. My treat,” I say, putting on my gloves.
“Not that I wouldn’t love to see you lost in your little delirium for a bit longer, but Maria is waiting for me.”
“Married life isn’t much fun now, huh?”
“Shut up. I love her.”
I cross my arms and raise a brow. “Does she know what her husband’s hobbies are?”
He lets out a long exhale. “No, and there’s no reason for her to know. So I can’t tell her that I’ll go out with my sadistic butcher mate.”
“You can skip the colorful compliments.” I wink.
He chuckles. “Celebrate yourself. You’ve earned it.” He pats my shoulder. “From tomorrow, your life will be much better. And a few others’, of course.”
If he only knew how right he is.
No one hands you evil on your first breath. You invite it in slowly, until it takes over. Then it no longer feels like a choice, but a bane you can’t outrun.
You don’t wake up one day and decide to lose your soul.
It slips away while you’re not looking.