Page 44 of Poison Aches

Better than other families that have been eyeing me, my position, and the power I hold.

I was thrown in with undercover Italian special forces, the hardcore Yakuza, and everything that made me into a killing machine.

I have blood on my hands… and there’s even a deluded witness who could attest to that, but she chose fantasies to keep her sane.

When I was sixteen, I tore apart a man with my bare hands, beating him to death.

So simply put, I’m not one of the boys.

It takes too much effort to act like a decent human being with polite manners when your inherent nature is too disturbing for normal society, but I had to do what I had to in order to get here.

And I’ll be damned if anyone gets in my way now.

I already have Angel on the agenda but she’s just a blemish on the entire scope that I’ve been putting together carefully.

So far, it’s been falling together nicely, if the events of the past few years are anything to go by.

“You’ve got the wrong guy!” the asshole in the room cries, his annoying voice bouncing off the walls, but no one outside will hear him. “I swear I’m not who you think I am!”

There’s a lone light bulb in the room right above his head, so I can see the fucking sweat on his rotting flesh.

He’s been hanging from those chains for a week now. He might believe he’s been holding up pretty well by refusing to say a word, but it’s intentional. I wanted him totenderize, so to speak.

“Listen, we can talk about this! You’ve been ignoring me this entire time, but I’ll tell you now! I’m just a simple man! I work a nine-to-five gig and I have kids!” he pants. “I don’t own anything! Not a house or a car! I have no money! How manytimes do I have to tell you this? My family will be worried sick, please let go!”

Right out the ‘play dumb’ playbook.

He even sounds truthful and sincere, anyone would believe his plea.

Unfortunately for him, I’m not anyone.

I’m just the man who’s been playing with my prey for a while.

The beating continues until the stench in the room is overwhelming fear, but I hardly give a damn.

“I don’t know anything, I swear!” he cries in between the screams and pain-filled groans.

I almost smirk.

It’s interesting how they always go from nothavinganything to notknowinganything. Which goes to show that he knows I want information.

Good.

Saves so much time because I do have places to be.

I flip through the report, ignoring him. My phone buzzes in my pocket with a text.

Fishing it out I read the message from Astraea.

Astraea:You’re coming, right?

I sigh, then quickly type a response back.

Me:No.

Astraea:Emmett… this is kind of a big deal. And besides, you said there’s nothing wrong between you two.

I ignore her and put my phone back in my pocket… but only for a few seconds before another text buzzes.

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