Chapter 14 Cain
Today, I didn’t see her at all. I don’t know when I became so weak, so willing to let things unfold instead of bending them to my will. But with her, it’s different. She changes the rules. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. So protective. So honest. So true.
I figure there’s no point in pushing her. Besides, she’s mine, whether she realizes it or not. I can be patient for now.
Today is duty day. Time to deal with that worthless piece of shit, Torres. He actually thinks he can steal from me and walk away unscathed. Such a fool. He must have forgotten who runs things around here.
It’s okay. I’ll remind him—but not with words. Words are for men who still have choices. Torres made his choice when he crossed me. Now, I make mine. And I choose to make an example of him.
Everyone needs to see him for the pathetic, backstabbing scumbag he is. Paying his men to follow me instead was almost too easy. Loyalty crumbles fast when money talks.
Now, he walks blindly into his downfall, and he’ll never see it coming. Not until it’s too late. And by then, he’ll understand exactly who he was foolish enough to betray.
I’m walking through the deserted warehouse where we had our meeting, carrying a bag with a few things I want to show off. It’s leather and leakproof.
He’s already waiting for me with his men, all lined up next to him. Protecting him. Or at least, that’s what it looks like.
“Cain, my friend. It’s good to see you,” he praises, forgetting how I loathe fake praising by traitors.
I halt in the middle of the room, ahead of him, and toss the bag on the ground.
Right after me, Landon and my men follow.
“I heard you wanted to meet me.” I fold my hands over my lower abdomen.
“Yes, my friend. It’s been a while.”
It’s safe to say that Torres is oblivious to everything. The plan is to make him believe he has the upper hand. That’s what will give him hope and will make things more entertaining.
“I’m listening.”
“As you may know, my drug business is growing. Demand’s through the roof. But I’ve been thinking … why stop there? Why not add guns to the game?”
There it is.
I tilt my head, amused. “Guns, huh?”
Torres grins, spreading his arms. “Business is all about expansion, my friend. And drugs … well, they sell. But guns make sure business stays running. You, of all people, should understand that.”
I exhale through my nose, nodding slowly. “You want firepower.”
“I want an empire,” he corrects, clapping his hands together. “And I know you’re the man to talk to. The best. The biggest. So tell me, why settle for being just a supplier when we could run this together?”
I stay quiet, studying him. Let him think he’s making progress. Let him believe he’s got me considering.
“And why should I believe you can handle it?”
Torres chuckles, shaking his head. “That’s the beauty of this deal, my friend. You don’t have to believe it. You just have to sell. I take care of the rest.”
I don’t react. I just stare. Let him sit in his own words.
He shifts slightly. I can see the awkwardness emanating from him. It’s almost too obvious. He’s used to people answering him—to men jumping at the chance to shake his hand.
But I am not his man.
I exhale slowly, stepping forward just enough to make him sweat a little.
“Is that right?” I murmur.
Torres’s grin falters just a little bit, but I catch it.
“You see,” I continue, pacing slightly, prowling right in front of him. “I’ve been thinking, Torres. Thinking a lot. About trust. About loyalty. And about what happens when someone gets … greedy.”
He’s fidgeting his fingers, and his jaw twitches. He’s listening now.
I bend down, gripping the bag I dropped when I walked in. Slowly. Stealthily.
Torres’s eyes flick to it. He doesn’t ask, but I see the question hiding behind his so-called intimidating composure.
I unzip it, reach inside, and pull out a thick, plastic-wrapped package, slick and dripping. With a quick flick of my wrist, I toss it to the floor. Torres stiffens, his jaw tightening.
“Go on,” I growl. “Take a look.”
He doesn’t move at first, so I squat, nudging the package with my boot.
I pull the plastic bag just enough to show him what’s hiding inside, behind the thick blood that has covered it.
A choked noise leaves Torres’s throat. He knows who it is.
I smile.
“You remember Maxwell, right?” I murmur, studying Torres’s face. “The man you sent sniffing through my shipments. The one you paid to betray me. One of my men.”
I stand again, slow and predatory. “Tell me … did he give you anything at all before I got to him? Before I tore him open and showed you what he really was?”
Torres swallows hard, his hands curling into fists. “He was just a scumbag who got a taste for money. He was the wrong piece of shit to ever do business with from the start.”
I click my tongue and shake my head.
I step forward, my eyes nailed on his. “You see, Torres, this isn’t some bullshit trade. This isn’t some damn deal. This is my kingdom, and I’m the fucking god running it.” I nod at Maxwell’s head at his feet. “And this is what happens to those who forget that.”
Torres is silent. His chest doesn’t rise, as if he’s already dead.
Good boy.
I smile again, but there’s nothing kind about it.
“Now—you were talking about an empire?” I say softly, tilting my head.
Torres swallows hard. His hands twitch at his sides, and his usual arrogance fades.
“This wasn’t personal,” he says, his voice rough. Busted, big boy. “Business. You understand that, don’t you?”
I arch a brow, amused. “Oh, I do.” I take a slow step forward, watching him flinch. “Which is exactly why you should’ve handled your business better.”
His gaze flickers past me, landing on one of his men. A thick-necked enforcer standing just behind my right shoulder.
“Now,” Torres orders sharply.
The enforcer doesn’t move. His fingers twitch near the holster at his hip, but he doesn’t draw. Instead, he smirks.
He realizes it too late. His face tightens. “You—”
“Paid him more,” I finish for him.
The enforcer’s smirk broadens. Then, he steps back out of the way.
He barely has time to curse before the air explodes with gunfire. More of his men run inside from the corridors. They hold their weapons, barking orders and firing wildly.
I walk closer to him, making him take a few steps back. He’s not as trained as I am.
One of Torres’s men swings a gun at me. I grab his wrist and twist it hard. His bone cracks, and the gun clatters to the ground. Another idiot lunges at me. I kick his knee sideways, hear it pop, and he drops, screaming like a stuck pig.
Through all of it, I don’t take my eyes off Torres. If that bastard did business with that cockroach Maxwell, he might know something about those damn cufflinks or how the fuck he got them.
He’s backing away. Panic creeps into his eyes. His hand fumbles for a pistol at his belt, but his fingers shake too much to get a grip.
I smile wickedly. He turns to run, but I catch him easily. I grab his collar and yank him back, spinning him around to face me.
“I can explain!” He falters.
“How cute to think you can run away from me,” I growl.
His eyes are wide, his jaw clenched tight. “You don’t—” He gasps, trying to gather his words. “You don’t understand. This … this was bigger than both of us. I had no choice!” He trembles. “It’s his fault.”
I freeze for a moment, my mind racing to make sense of his words.
“Whose fault?” I ask, shaking him vehemently.
A gunshot rings out, and he flinches, but I don’t. The barrage of bullets is still ongoing, but they’re not targeting me. They know better.
His eyes flicker to the side. He’s looking for his last backup. His escape.
“Look at me.” I yank his face back to mine. “Answer me!” I take my gun off my holster and press it against his jaw. “Whose fault is it?”
“Don’t … I have a family!”
“You should have thought of them before you chose to make an enemy out of me.”
Torres trembles, his breath ragged. His hands grip my wrist, desperate, useless.
“Please,” he chokes out.
I press the gun harder against his jaw. “Begging doesn’t suit you.” I shoot his shoulder, his blood splashing all over my face. He screams in pain.
I’m running out of patience.
His eyes dart again. He’s still hoping. Still stupid.
Then a gunshot rings out, and more blood splashes on my face. The light is fading from his eyes. No!
He’s dead … Fuck, who did this?
My eyes scan the place, but I see nothing unusual. Just men rushing around and killing each other.
Damn it, now I’m on ground zero again.