๐ช๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ช๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐
In the depths of the basement, cut off from the world, the only sounds that echoed through the room was those of anguish and desperation. Pleas for mercy mixed with screams of pain, filling the air with a symphony of torment.
A single bulb cast a sickly glow over the room, barely illuminating the dim surroundings. The walls, smeared in dried blood, bore silent witness to unspeakable horrors. The metallic gleam of the chains and the array of torturing devices were reflected in the dim light.
Beneath the bulb's harsh glow, a man knelt weeping, his face swollen and bloodied, barely recognizable due to the countless brutal injuries that marred his skin. Desperation consumed him as he tightly clenched his free hand around the bloody stump where his pinky finger had once been.
"Why did you shoot?" A voice, as cold and commanding as the darkness itself, echoed from the shadows. It belonged to the man in black, whose presence was shrouded in darkness, as if he was the embodiment of shadows itself. His voice, cold and remorseless, sent chills down the sobbing man's spine.
Standing before the sobbing man was none other than Eden Rosalyn, a knife held firmly in his black-gloved hand, stained with blood.
"She was running away, boss!" The man cowered in fear, his voice tinged with desperation as he responded, hoping against hope that his boss would believe him.
Eden let out a scoff as a frigid smirk graced his lips, transforming the atmosphere in the room. He leaned back against the table, placing the knife down with an air of casual menace. Picking up a file that held information about the man, he fixed him with a steely gaze, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"๐ฌ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ '๐ฎ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ด๐๐๐๐๐.' ๐ต๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐. ๐จ๐๐ ๐๐๐, ๐๐๐'๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐? ๐บ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐?"
Gustav cried out, his voice a desperate plea, "I didn't do it on purpose, boss! You told me not to kill her!"
Eden's gaze sharpened, a menacing glint flickering in his dark eyes. He tilted his head and calmly responded, his voice a dangerous silk. "Indeed. I did tell you not to kill her. But I didn't mention anything about letting her escape, did I?"
Gustav's voice trembled as he uttered a barely audible whisper. "No..."
"Then why?" Eden's voice was a cold hiss.
"I panicked! She was running away, and I couldn't reach her, so-" Gustav attempted to explain, trying to justify his actions, but he was quickly cut off mid-sentence by Eden's harsh words.
"Don't give me your pathetic excuse of an explanation. You'll face the consequences now." Eden's patience ran out as he growled out in disapproval.
Gustav quieted down, his head bowing in a defeated gesture of submission, as if already aware of the punishment awaiting him.
"That's right you are of no use now." With a callous expression and a blank face, Eden drew a gun from his coat, its golden designs sparkling in the dim light. He pointed the weapon at the kneeling man without any hesitation.
There was a moment of silence, before Eden spoke again, his tone unwaveringly firm. "That's what you get for crossing us."
The man's eyes widened and locked onto Eden, but before he could utter a word, he was silenced by a single bullet that pierced his head, causing his body to fall lifelessly to the ground with a thud. Blood quickly began to pool around him, creating a gruesome scene.
๐ค
A stream of smoke billowed from the cigarette held elegantly in Eden's hand. His expression was unreadable as his gaze fixated on the gruesome scene in front of him, his mind undoubtedly preoccupied with his thoughts.
The thick smoke swirled around him, accentuating the dark and dangerous aura that seemed to cling to him. The quiet tension filling the room was broken by the sound of the door opening.
Eden didn't need to turn around to know who had entered the room. He remained unperturbed, taking another drag on his cigarette as if he had been expecting this all along.
A man dressed in a sharp tuxedo, sporting dark glasses and a professional demeanor, entered the room, carrying a tablet in his hand.
The tablet displayed a face that bore a striking resemblance to Eden's, but with a distinctive gray, boxed beard, a scar on his left eye, and with a more powerful, intimidating aura surrounding him.
"So, where's the betrayer?" The man on the tablet spoke, his voice gruff and intimidating.
He scanned the room, his eyes landing on the dead man, and he clicked his tongue in displeasure. "You killed him already?" he said, his words filled with irritation. "I thought I made my demands clear."
Eden finally turned around, his expression stoic and composed. He spoke in a dismissive tone. "Don't worry, I've recorded our little 'conversation.' Safira will send it to you soon."
The man on the tablet let out a sigh, his tone stern. "This isn't how it works," he said, addressing Eden. "How many times have I told you not to kill someone just by clearing the accusations?"
"There's a reason why MY name is more famous than yours." There was a hint of irritation in Eden's composed demeanor as he spoke, a bite of sharpness in his words.
"There's a reason this Empire is famous for." The man on tab spoke with equal intensity before he took a deep breath to calm down.
The man continued, his voice carrying an air of certainty. "This Empire is notorious for its methods. We don't just spill blood without purpose. We ensure our actions serve a greater goal. That's our trademark. That's what sets us apart."
The man paused for a moment before continuing, his tone stern and commanding. "This Empire's reputation is built on the ability to break the toughest of souls. Everyone has their breaking point, and with enough pressure, they'll talk."
Eden's face remained composed, but there was a sharpness in his raised eyebrow. "What's the point of that?" he questioned, his voice laced with a hint of annoyance.
The man's voice was authoritative as he responded, his gaze fixed on Eden. "Don't play dumb. You know how things work in our business."
"And don't forget the rule we have: We don't involve others in our personal business." He spoke firmly, his voice tinged with bitterness and authority. The tension between them was palpable as Eden met the man's calm gaze with a glare of his own.
Then, Eden averted his gaze, taking a drag from his cigarette as he spoke, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "I'll take care of anyone who tries to save her."
There was a moment of silence, the man on the tablet seeming to ponder something before responding abruptly, his words stern. "Do that. And make sure you don't make any mistakes this time, ๐๐จ๐ง. I don't tolerate mistakes."
With that, the man ended the call, leaving no room for further discussions or questions.
"Understood." Eden muttered to himself, his voice nearly a low growl.
๐ค
The evening sky was filled with dark clouds, the air filled with a cool breeze that blew through the area. Birds could be seen flying overhead, their wings catching the last few glimpses of sunlight that managed to penetrate through the overcast sky above.
To the observant eye, the view was a beautiful sight, but to those who understood the subtler messages of the world, it was a harbinger of darker things to come, a symbol of the dark and mysterious world that lay hidden beneath the surface of normalcy.
A lone black car made its way across a vast expanse of green fields, the landscape devoid of any other signs of life except for the single road that cut through the countryside, leading towards a grand structure in the distance. It was the Rosalyn Mansion.
The car came to a stop outside the imposing black gates, with the mysterious symbol of the 'R.' Two armed guards stood vigilantly on either side of the gate, and one of them approached the car, knocking on the tinted window with a gloved hand.
The tinted window rolled down easily, revealing the driver. A woman with an aura of authority and power. Her vintage dress and fashion sense gave her a classic and elegant appearance, and her sharp green eyes peered through tinted glasses, focused and unbothered.
Without a word, she showed a black card imprinted with a golden symbol to the guard, her gaze never even flicking towards him.
"Ms. Safira." The guard greeted Safira respectfully before stepping back.
"Let the car through, it's an invitation." The guard said to the other man and the black iron gates slowly opened, granting the car access through the front entrance of the Rosalyn estate.
Safira rolled up the window and continued driving, steering the automobile through the imposing gates and into the heart of the mafia family's territory.
Safira's heels clicked rhythmically against the pristine hard floor, the sound reverberating through the vast, vacant halls of the estate. She walked with purpose. The purpose to give the recordings to Andrea Rosalyn. Her footsteps carried her towards the grand spiral stairs, a fixture that connected multiple floors and levels of the sprawling mansion.
However, just as she set foot on the stairs, she suddenly found herself face to face with a figure she least expected to encounter, a person she had hoped to avoid.
"And where are you going, Ms. Safira?" It was a voice of a man. It's playful undertones laced with an underlying tension that was only detectable to those who knew him well. Safira was one of those people, and she could sense the hidden meaning behind his words.
Safira's expression betrayed a hint of unease as she heard the familiar voice behind her, even though her back was turned and he could not see her face. The man could sense the tension emanating from her, and it was evident to almost anyone.
Eden had specifically instructed her not to cross paths with him, even though she had the ability and skills to take on almost anyone in the organization.
Safira let out a deep sigh, composing herself, before turning around to face the man with white hair. Despite her uneasiness, she managed to maintain a professional demeanor, a facade that she had been wearing from the start.
"๐๐ก๐๐ฌ๐."