Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32755 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
“Don’t you ever hang up on me again.”
He disconnected the call, throwing his cell phone into the car. Locking the vehicle, he made his way down the street, following the sounds of terrified screams, of begging. The pimp in question was beating the woman. She was on the ground, trying to cover her body.
“You think you can cheat on me, huh? You think you can run and hide. I own your ass. No amount of money will get you out of this. You’re not going to get clean. Your rotten cunt and ass are mine to give away, and now you’re going to have dick inside you all the fucking time.”
The woman was close to unconscious. Ruin grabbed the bastard by the back of the neck and threw him across the alleyway. He heard him hit the wall, hard. The woman shook, she had blood all over her face. Ruin stared down at her and waited. Pulling out his wallet, he shoved the money at her.
“Go. Get out.”
“But…”
“I’m about to take care of him. Tell the other women that if they want a clean break, they should go, and you didn’t see me. Got it?”
She nodded her head, took his money, and then ran. The pimp managed to scramble out of the large pile of trash.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he asked.
Ruin stood still.
The man put his fingers in his mouth and whistled.
He was already aware of the four supposed bodyguards that were meant to protect him. This little bastard was so sure of his position and place, he didn’t even keep them close by. It was an insult. Fucking disgusting. Just looking at him now was annoying. The sheer arrogance of the piece of shit angered him. Giordano was going to pay him for removing this piece of dirt from the earth, and the truth was, he’d have done it for free. Everyone and everything had a price. For Ruin, this was keeping Callie safe when he wasn’t there.
“Are you a mute fuck?”
“You’re on Giordano’s turf.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “That old fart. Yeah, nice one. I can do whatever the hell I want so long as I pay the toll.”
Ruin stared at him and waited. Silence was his greatest weapon. Over the years, he noticed that the quiet seemed to scare everyone more than anything else. He could brandish his gun, and sure, it scared some but not many. Knives and all manner of torture equipment might be used, but what men truly feared was the silence. That absence of sound where they could only hear their own panting and heart racing, and knew they were going to face death. That scared the shit out of them. It was truly entertaining, and he thoroughly enjoyed it.
“What the fuck are you doing? Huh? You dumb as well. Do you not speak? Can you not understand my language?”
Panic must have set in because he’d spoken to him less than a minute ago. The pimp advanced toward him, raising his fist. Ruin grabbed his wrist, twisted just enough to cause the right amount of tension, and then, waiting, he tugged, letting it snap. The moment he did, the pimp fell to the floor, screaming, so fucking high-pitched and loud, it was nearly deafening. To Ruin, it was a pleasing sound.
He heard the beat of footsteps as the bodyguards approached. Ruin couldn’t help but smile. He turned toward the men, who stared at their boss writhing on the ground in pain. They all looked shocked. No one had dared to take on this piece of shit, but that would end now.
“Kill him. Fucking kill him! The son of a bitch broke my hand. Kill him.”
Technically, he broke his wrist, but clearly, the man wasn’t too bright in body parts. He imagined if he smashed in his knees, then his entire leg was broken. Pathetic.
The first guy rushed toward him, brandishing a knife. Ruin once again grabbed his wrists, twisted them, and plunged the knife into the man’s stomach. Down.
The next one came at him, and for his troubles, he got a broken neck.
The third one pissed and shit himself and Ruin pulled out his gun, lodging a bullet in his head, and the fourth got the same treatment.
Now he was alone with the pimp. He wrapped his fingers around his neck and dragged him up, pressing him against the wall.
“I pay the toll. I pay the toll.”
“There is no toll with Giordano. Just death.”
“Dante Morelli. I have dealings with him.”
“And I have it on good authority you are not worth my time.”
He pulled out his knife and plunged it into his neck, ending the pimp.
With the men on the floor, Ruin looked around. He’d not touched anything, other than the bodies. He frowned. Men needed to learn who they were dealing with. No one insulted Giordano.