⚠️ Content Warning: Strong themes and non‑graphic violence. Read with care.
JARE POV
CONTINUE THE FLASHBACK
The hospital lights were blinding, a stark contrast to the darkness that was currently swallowing my sanity. I stood outside her room, my hands buried deep in my pockets to hide the fact that they were shaking with a murderous rage.
Footsteps echoed down the sterile hallway. I didn't have to look up to know who it was. Angelo and Aries arrived, their faces etched with the same grim realization that was burning through my veins.
"Jare, what the hell are you doing here?" Angelo demanded, his voice hushed but heavy with urgency.
I looked at him, and for a second, I wonder if he saw the monster I was trying so hard to keep caged. "Take care of my sister," I said, each word sounding like a death sentence. "If she wakes up and asks what happened, tell her nothing. Not a single word."
"What are you talking about? We can't just lie to her about this," Aries protested, stepping forward.
I grabbed Aries by the collar, pulling him close until our noses almost touched. My eyes were cold, devoid of any warmth. "Aries, do exactly as I say. Don't try to make her remember what happened. Let the memories stay buried. If she digs them up, it will destroy her, and I will destroy anyone who helped her find the shovel."
I released him with a shove. I didn't wait for them to agree. I knew they would. They didn't have a choice.
As I walked out of the hospital and into the biting cold of the night, my phone vibrated. I answered without checking the caller ID.
"Come to the abandoned factory," Percy's voice came through the line. There was no trace of his usual jokes, no playful sarcasm. He sounded furious—a low, vibrating anger that made the hair on my neck stand up.
Good. I didn't need the funny Percy right now. I needed the Percy that everyone in this underworld was terrified of. I needed the executioner.
I drove like a madman. Rules didn't apply to me tonight. When I reached the factory, I didn't even bother parking correctly; I let the car skid to a halt, the tires screaming against the gravel.
I pushed open the rusted heavy doors. The scent hit me instantly—dust, oil, and the sharp, metallic tang of fresh blood.
In the center of the room, under a single flickering bulb, Percy was at work. He was a blurred shadow of violence. He was hitting them—those pathetic excuses for men—with a rhythmic, calculated brutality.
What was truly terrifying was his precision. Percy, with his medical knowledge, knew exactly where to strike to cause the most pain without ending their lives too quickly. He had already treated the deeper wounds of the one on the chair, but only so the man wouldn't pass out. He was punching him again, reopening the skin he had just tended to.
He was keeping them awake for the nightmare.
I stood in the shadows, watching the spray of blood hit the concrete floor. A slow, dark smirk spread across my face.
"My turn," I whispered to the empty air.
Tonight, there would be no mercy. Only the debt that had to be paid in red.
I dragged a metal chair across the concrete, the screeching sound vibrating through the silent room like a dying animal.
I sat down, leaning back with a cold, practiced calm. I pulled out a cigarette and lit it, the orange glow the only warmth in this godforsaken place. I exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching it swirl through the dim light before looking at the pathetic, broken shells of men cowering before us.
"Tell me what happened in there," I said, my voice dangerously low. I flicked the ash onto the blood-stained floor.
Silence.
The one in the center just shook, his breath hitching in a wet rattle. He wouldn't look at me.
"TELL ME, DAMN IT!" I roared, the chair legs scraping as I lunged forward. I didn't have any patience left. My sister was lying in a hospital bed because of these stains on humanity.
One of them finally cracked. His voice was thin, trembling like a leaf in a storm. "Jeana… she owed us a massive debt. We went to collect, but she said she didn't have the money. She was dry. But then… then we saw her daughter. We told her we'd take the girl in exchange for the debt."
The cigarette snapped in my fingers.
The world went red. The name Jeana—the woman who was supposed to protect her—felt like poison in my ears. But hearing what they intended for my sister? That was the end of their lives.
I didn't just punch him. I launched myself off the chair, my fist connecting with his jaw with a sickening crack that echoed off the high rafters.
"YOU ABSOLUTE PIECE OF SHIT!" I screamed, grabbing him by the throat and slamming his head back against the chair. "SHE IS SIXTEEN! SHE IS A CHILD!"
I rained blows down on him, my knuckles splitting, but I didn't feel the pain. Every time my fist hit his face, I saw my sister's face. I saw her hospital room. I saw the innocence they tried to steal because of a debt that wasn't hers to pay.
"She's sixteen…" I growled, my voice breaking into a primal snarl as I pulled back for another strike. "And for that, I'm going to make sure you don't live to see another day."
Percy stepped out of the shadows, his hand resting on my shoulder. Not to stop me—but to remind me to save some for later. We weren't done with them yet. Death was too easy. They needed to feel every second of the hell they tried to put her through.
Percy stepped away from the shadows, his face a mask of cold, surgical indifference. He leaned in close to the one who hadn't spoken yet, his voice a chilling whisper that carried more weight than any scream.
"Tell me," Percy began, his eyes tracking the man's frantic pulse in his neck. "Did you touch her? Did any of your filthy hands lay a finger on her?"
The man's eyes darted between Percy and me, his body shaking so violently the chair rattled against the concrete.
"W-we tried," he stammered, his voice breaking. "We tried to get her to cooperate, but she wouldn't give in. She fought like a wild animal. When we tried to force her... she grabbed a blade. She stabbed him."
He pointed a trembling finger at his friend—the one Percy had been 'treating' earlier.
A slow, dark shadow of a smile crept onto my face. That's my sister. Even cornered, even terrified, she had the claws to draw blood. She wasn't a victim; she was a fighter. A Mariano through and through.
But while pride flared in my chest, a different kind of fire consumed Percy.
Without a word of warning, Percy's fist connected with the man's temple. The sound was like a heavy stone hitting wet clay. He didn't stop there. He grabbed the man by the hair, forcing him to look up into eyes that promised nothing but a slow, agonizing end.
"You tried to force her?" Percy repeated, his voice dangerously soft. "You actually thought you could lay a hand on her and walk away?"
He delivered a brutal blow to the man's ribs. I heard the distinct snap of bone, followed by the man's choked-off scream.
"You shouldn't have told me that," Percy hissed, picking up a scalpel from his kit nearby. The blade glinted under the flickering light. "Because now, I'm not just going to hurt you. I'm going to make sure you remember the name Mariano every time you try to breathe."
I sat back, crossing my arms as I watched the scene unfold. The factory was cold, but the heat of our vengeance was enough to burn the whole world down. They had made a mistake—the kind of mistake you only make once in a lifetime.
I pulled the cold steel from my holster, the weight of the gun feeling right—familiar and heavy with the promise of an end.
"Jare, come on already," Percy said, looking up from his work. He wiped a smudge of blood from his cheek with the back of his hand, his expression almost pouting. "Don't be a killjoy. I haven't even reached the best part of the procedure yet."
I looked at him, my eyes as cold as the barrel in my hand, and let a slow, dark smile spread across my face. "Relax, Percy. I'm just preparing the atmosphere. Trust me… I haven't even started either."
The man tied to the chair let out a pathetic, wet sob. His eyes were blown wide with a terror so deep he could barely breathe.
"You… you can't… you'll go to jail for this!" he stammered, his voice cracking with desperation. "The police… the law… you'll rot in a cell for what you're doing!"
I let out a low, dark laugh that sounded more like a growl. I stepped forward until the muzzle of my gun was pressed firmly against the center of his forehead. The cold metal made him flinch, his skin slick with a cold sweat.
"Jail?" I whispered, leaning in so close he could smell the cigarette smoke on my breath. "You're misinformed. You think the law reaches into the shadows of this town?"
I leaned harder into the gun, watching him tremble.
"Trust me, I won't be going to jail," I said, my voice dropping to a lethal, bone-chilling tone. "Because in this world, I am the law. And for what you tried to do to my sister? I'm the judge, the jury, and your fucking executioner."
I shifted my gaze to Percy, a silent signal passing between us. The factory was far enough away that no one would hear their screams. And by the time we were done, there wouldn't be enough of them left to tell a story to the police anyway.
The real nightmare was just beginning.
Bang.
The sound of the gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space of the factory, a sudden explosion of violence that cut short the man's desperate pleas. He let out a blood-curdling scream as the bullet tore through his thigh, his body jerking violently against the restraints.
I didn't stop there. I moved with a cold, predatory rhythm, the barrel of my gun moving from one target to the next.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
The factory was filled with a chorus of agonizing wails. They were sobbing now, their faces contorted in a mix of gore and snot, begging for a mercy they hadn't earned.
"Please! Stop! Have mercy!" one of them wailed, his voice cracking into a high-pitched shriek.
I stood over him, the heat from the gun's barrel radiating against my skin. I tilted my head, looking down at him with eyes that had long since gone hollow.
"Mercy?" I repeated, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. "That's funny. Is this how it sounded? Tell me, is this how my sister begged you to stop while you were trying to ruin her life? Did she cry out like this when you laid your filthy hands on her?"
I leaned down, my voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. "The difference is, she was innocent. You? You're just trash waiting to be burned."
Percy didn't wait for my cue. He stepped forward, discarding his scalpel for something more primitive—a heavy, rusted steel rod leaning against the factory wall. He swung it with a practiced ease, the sound of metal meeting bone echoing like a sickening thud.
He wasn't the percy we knew anymore. He was a reaper, and the factory was his harvest.
The hours bled together in a haze of red and iron. The screams that had started as piercing shrieks eventually degraded into wet, gurgling whimpers, and finally, into a suffocating, heavy silence. We didn't rush. We took our time, ensuring that every ounce of fear they had forced upon my sister was returned to them a thousand times over.
Six hours.
Six hours of a slow, meticulous descent into hell. By the time the sun began to threaten the horizon, the men on the floor were no longer recognizable as human beings. They were just remnants of a debt that had been settled in full.
Percy dropped the rod, the clatter of metal on concrete signaling the end of the night. He wiped his hands on a rag, his face as calm as if he had just finished a routine check-up.
I looked down at the bodies, my heart still cold, still heavy. The anger hadn't left, but the debt was paid.
"Let's go," I said, tucking the gun back into its holster. "We have a sister to look after."
We walked out of the factory, leaving the darkness behind us, the scent of blood still clinging to our clothes—a permanent reminder that in this world, if you touch a Mariano, you don't just die. You disappear.
The drive back to the hospital was silent. The adrenaline had faded, leaving behind a cold, hollow emptiness that only a night of violence could provide.
We pulled into the parking lot. I turned off the engine, but neither of us moved for a moment. The scent of iron and gunpowder clung to our skin like a second layer of clothing.
"Go on," Percy said, staring straight ahead through the windshield. "I'll stay back. Angelo and Aries are in there—I can't let them see me in this state yet. Not while my hands are still stained."
I gave a short, stiff nod and stepped out of the car.
I walked into the hospital lobby like a ghost back from the dead. The sterile, white atmosphere made my appearance even more jarring. People stopped moving. Conversations died mid-sentence. I could see the terror in their eyes as they looked at me—at the dark, drying blood splattered across my shirt and the crimson stains on my hands. They shrank away as I passed, as if afraid the violence I carried would jump onto them.
I didn't care. My eyes were fixed on the hallway leading to Jay Jay's room.
As I approached, I saw them. Angelo was standing outside the door, his face exhausted. And right there, sitting on one of the plastic chairs, was Jeana. She was weeping into a handkerchief, her shoulders shaking with pathetic sobs.
"Tita, please… stop crying. She's going to be fine," Angelo was saying, his voice soft as he tried to comfort her.
My blood boiled. That bitch.
Control yourself, Jare. This isn't how Mama Reycee raised you. You're a Mariano, not a mindless animal, I told myself, my knuckles white as I clenched my fists.
"Trying to play the victim now?" I said, my voice cutting through her sobbing like a knife.
Jeana looked up, her eyes red and puffy. "Jare… my son…" She stood up, reaching out a hand toward me as if she expected a hug.
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I roared.
The sound echoed through the entire ward. Nurses froze. Patients peeked out of their rooms. The air became thick with a sudden, suffocating tension.
"JARE!" Angelo barked, stepping between us. Then his eyes drifted down to my clothes, and his face went pale. "What happened to you? God, Jare—whose blood is that?"
Aries emerged from the room at that moment, his expression shifting from concern to pure horror the second he saw me. He looked at me as if he were seeing a stranger—a monster.
"What is happening here?" Aries whispered, his voice trembling.
I didn't look at them. I kept my gaze locked on the woman who had sold her own daughter to pay for her mistakes. "Don't worry," I said, my voice dropping to a low, lethal hum. "This isn't my blood."
I stepped past them and looked through the glass of the door. Jay Jay was still asleep, her head bandaged, looking far too peaceful for the world she lived in.
"Angelo," I called out.
Angelo looked at me, his brow furrowed with confusion and fear.
"I don't want to see Jeana anywhere near my sister again. From this moment on, she doesn't live with Jay Jay. She's finished."
"What? Jare, why? She's her mother!" Angelo asked, completely lost.
"Do as I say!" I snapped. "She's moving in with Lola. As soon as Jay is stable and things in New York are settled, I'm taking her there. If this —if this hell—continues to hunt her, I'll take her now."
I turned my head slowly to look Angelo in the eye. "Tell me right now—can you protect her and keep that woman away, or should I take care of my sister myself?"
The unspoken threat hung in the air. Angelo knew what 'taking care' of things meant when it came from me.
"I'll do it," Angelo said, his voice firming up. "I'll take care of Jay Jay."
I gave a single, curt nod. "Thanks."
Then, I turned my attention back to Jeana. She was staring at me, her mouth agape. I leaned in, my shadow looming over her.
"If you come anywhere near my sister again, I will forget that you're a woman," I whispered, loud enough for only her to feel the chill. "And I'll make sure your nephew knows exactly what you did to her. Every. Sinful. Detail."
Jeana's face drained of what little color it had left. She looked like she was about to faint.
"Tita? What is he talking about? What did you do?" Angelo asked, his suspicion finally flickering to life.
I didn't stay to watch her squirm. I turned my back on the lies, the blood, and the betrayal, and walked toward the exit. I had a sister to protect, and a world to burn if anyone tried to stop me.