Chapter 6
MThe moonlight illuminating the city is beautiful. But it doesn’t even come close to how gorgeous Lana looks tonight. The only thing that is making a difference in her demeanor is serving that fucking misogynistic pig. Nenad Semic.
That changes tonight.
As a hardcore feminist, I know that Lana can fight her own battles. And I know that I should let her, but I feel like it’s my duty as a feminist to erase misogynists from this planet.
I’m in the alley behind the diner, and I’m waiting for that asshole to come out. In the meantime, I’m lighting up a cigarette, and I let the smoke invade my lungs. It’s a disgusting habit, but no matter what the packs say, it’s one of the few comforts in my life.
“I can’t wait to come back tomorrow.”
Showtime.
I straighten my black leather jacket and throw my cigarette onto the ground. My feet are making their way toward the pig, and I’m not being quiet. The need to let him know that I’m coming for him is strong.
To destroy him is even stronger.
After a couple more steps, he notices me and turns around to face me.
When I look at his face, I can only think of one question.
When did men like him think it’s appropriate to hit on beautiful women like Lana?
“Buddy, are you going to say something? Or are you just going to keep staring at me?” His words are coming out of his mouth in shorter bursts. This asshole doesn’t even have the strength in his voice to make me slightly tremble.
But what he is doing is making me angry.
Not to spoil any surprises, I plaster on a smile.
“Do you like going to this diner?” I ask him while pointing to it. He furrows his brow and crosses his arms.
“Why do you care? Who the fuck are you?”
“You love answering questions with questions?” Isn’t it socially decent to just answer a fucking question?
“I’m tired, so I’ll be leaving. I don’t have time for freaks tonight.” Just as he is about to leave, I check my surroundings one more time, and we are safe from prying eyes. The alley is dark, long, and the people behind us are oblivious to what is about to happen.
“Nenad, unmarried, lives alone on Mustafa Street, door number 128. You inherited your home from your late mother after she battled a long fight with cancer. Let me ask you this: how many times have you visited her in the hospital? One time? Two times?” The revelation that I know so much about him makes him stop in his tracks.
His back is still turned to me, but I can feel his anxiety.
It’s like a drug that is fueling the beast inside of me.
Some people thrive on success, whereas I thrive on fear.
I laugh, genuinely, and make a tsk sound.
“What? No questions right now?” I’m still looking at his fucking back, and I’m getting agitated. I want him to look at me, because I want him to remember the face that will haunt him in his dreams.
“Look. At. Me.” He doesn’t turn around fully, but peeks over his left shoulder. “Are you seriously not brave enough to face me?” He shakes his head slowly, as if the ground has taken his feet hostage.
“I’ll make this easy for you. Here.”
I draw the pistol from my waistband and toss it onto the floor. It splatters against the melting snow.
He finally turns and snatches it up.
I cock my head and yawn.
“How the fuck are you holding the pistol?”
I’ve seen people handle guns before, but this is ridiculous. His fingers aren’t even on the trigger—he’s gripping the barrel.
This is so embarrassing.
I shake my head, and my lips form a thin line.
“I’ve given you plenty of chances. Now it’s my turn to show you.” I’m standing so close to him that my own gun is now touching my chest. My hands reach the weapon, and I snatch it from his incompetent grip.
“Our game ends here. Let’s take this party elsewhere.” Before he can even react, I pistol-whip him. His body thuds onto the ground, and I kneel beside him. I check for a heartbeat, and luckily, it’s there.
I stand up and lean down to grab him by his feet then drag him inside my van. I parked here earlier. When I load him into the van, I make sure he doesn’t escape. To make sure he doesn’t escape or attack me, I handcuff his hands. And feet.
The drive to my secluded home is eerie, just the way I like it. From a young age, I have learned that solace can be found in the darkness. Whenever I felt like screaming because of the amount of rage I felt, I retreated into oblivion.
But now I can’t retreat. I need to do this. I need to keep this world safe. For Lana.
I’m only driving for a couple of minutes before I hear something in the back of my van.
I look in my mirror, and I see that he is waking up.
“Oh, good, you are awake. How are you?” I’m not asking because I’m concerned. I want to assess his medical condition.
“What… Where… am I?” he asks, and I scrunch my eyebrows.
“You are in the back of a driving van, asshole.” He starts blinking rapidly and takes in his surroundings.
When he realizes where he is and that his hands and feet are cuffed, he begins to panic.
I feel his eyes burning into the back of my head, and I can’t help but smile. I return my attention to the road.
“Get me the fuck out of here!” He is trying really hard to sound intimidating by yelling at me, but it doesn’t faze me. If only he knew how many sons of bitches were trapped in this van.
“I can’t do that. I can promise you we are going to have so much fun, though!” The irony is that I’m not lying.
This is going to be fun, and I hate lying.
“I’m going to scream and somebody will—”
“Yeah, yeah, you will scream. Go ahead and scream. I do have one request, though.” I look in the mirror again, and my gaze changes into something far more serious.
“Do not, and I repeat, do not piss in my van. The last guy that pissed in my van had his dick shoved down his throat.” A funny, neat trick I learned from Sara.
“You are kidding, right?”
“Does it sound like I’m kidding?”
“Why the fuck are you doing this? I don’t even fucking know you, man.” I make a clicking sound with my tongue and wink at him through the rearview mirror.
“That’s right, but I know you. You have been harassing a very special lady for the last couple of months.” Oh, my little hummingbird. The thought of her relaxes me instantly.
“What fucking lady? Is it—” He pauses, and he looks left and right, as if that will speed up his thinking process.
I let him stew on it because I need to stay focused while driving.
I may be one of the most dangerous men on the planet, but I’m not a reckless driver.
“Is it because of that bitch in the diner?”
That does it.
I check for cars on the road and stop the van immediately. Then I pull my gun out and aim it toward him. His eyes widen, and he starts shaking his head violently.
My hand is steady, and my demeanor shifts from playful to severe. I’m stiff as a plank, there is no tremor in my hands, and my gaze is fixated on his eyes. The outside world stops, and the single light flickering in my van seems smaller than it is.
I’m mad.
“If you ever talk about her like that, or any woman for that matter, you’ll be going through life as a eunuch.”
“I… I…”
“That’s exactly the sound you will be making when you are choking on your own dick. Want to turn that theory into reality?” The pig is shaking violently, and tears are forming in the corners of his eyes.
Good.
I put my gun back into my pants holster and drive again. The drive to my main home is quiet, and I’m praying to God that he doesn’t piss all over my van.
Once I enter my garage, the lights flicker on automatically. I get out of my van and slide the back door open to see if the fucker is still alive. Before I grab him, I go up front and open the glove compartment to find my latex gloves. I put them on and check on the asshole.
“Well, you are alive,” I say with a groan. My desire to kill him is big, but I don’t do it. I grab him by his legs and drag him out of the van, causing his head to thud against the floor.
“Oops.” I continue dragging him into my home with ease, letting him rest on the wooden floors of my kitchen.
“That hurt, asshole!”
“That’s absolutely nothing. I’m advising you to shut the fuck up.” And he does.
I consider this my home, and I put a lot of thought into it. My wish was to make something that felt like a home and a place where I can conduct business. Nobody knows I live here except for my cousin, my two adventurous right-hand men, Sara, Adam, and… that’s about it.
Not even my best friends in Belgium know about this place. It’s my way of keeping them safe and sound.
My home is a villa, let’s start there. It’s the kind of place people drool over in magazines and those corny videos on TikTok where celebs show off their homes.
White stone walls, terraces draped in ivy, and a marble fountain in the courtyard.
Inside, lots of rooms stretch across warm, polished hardwood floors.
Oh, and in case you’re wondering—eight bedrooms, three bathrooms, a massive pool, a forest just beyond the lawn, and a tennis court.
Just your average weekend getaway destination.
People would think I have parties here every week, but I fucking don’t.
The kitchen’s huge, all rich wooden cabinetry with a marble island in the center. I hardly ever cook, but when I do it’s only for myself. There’s a conference room too—mahogany, leather, built for meetings that don’t quite have ordinary agendas.
My bedroom’s tucked in the farthest corner, with its own terrace and an adjacent room lined with screens and computers so I can keep an eye on everything—and everyone. Behind a hidden panel in the closet is the armory. Guns, knives… all in order, ready for any situation.
And then there’s the basement. Huge, echoing, dark. Nobody goes down there—nobody but me.
Of course, this pig is going to see it as well now.
I punch in the five-digit code and put my hand onto the gel pad to scan. Once I hear the beeping sound as my handprint is accepted, the door opens.
The nightmare for my guest begins, while my dream continues.