♥ Chapter 4♥

Dominic Castellano.

7:50 PM – Castellano City

Friday

The sleek black car was parked at the entrance of the casino. Jack opened the back door for me, and I stepped inside without haste, adjusting my suit as he walked around the vehicle to take the driver's seat.

The door closed smoothly, muffling the sounds of the casino. Inside the car, silence was a nearly tangible presence, broken only by the soft purr of the engine as Jack shifted gears and started driving toward the Carter residence.

"Reports, Jack." My voice was cold, authoritative—a blade slicing through the silence.

Jack nodded, his eyes fixed on the road, though his mind was clearly working quickly to compile the necessary information.

"Drug trafficking is running smoothly, sir. Imports are on schedule. We managed to get the last shipment through the borders without issues, thanks to our contacts at the ports. Local distribution is also efficient. Our men on the streets control the sales, ensuring not a single cent escapes our radar."

I nodded slowly. A mistake, no matter how small, could lead to a chain of problems I would not tolerate.

"And the money laundering? Are the new schemes running as expected?"

Jack hesitated for just a moment before answering, organizing his thoughts.

"Yes, sir. The new front companies are operating flawlessly. We’re funneling large amounts, and so far, no suspicion has been raised. The banks remain under our control, which makes the process seamless."

"Good." I let the word linger in the air—a cold acknowledgment that, for now, everything was in order.

The car took a smooth turn, city lights reflecting off the windows. Castellano City belonged to me—every street, every building, every business. I did not tolerate failures. Jack knew this, and his efficiency was a direct reflection of that expectation.

"What about new weapon acquisitions? How are the sales going?"

Jack responded immediately, now fully immersed in the report.

"The latest purchases were made through our suppliers in Eastern Europe. The shipment will arrive in two weeks. As for sales, we’re expanding to new organizations in the north. They’re hungry for heavy weaponry, and our prices are unbeatable. The deals are practically closed."

"Excellent." My tone remained icy, but there was a slight undertone of approval. "I want no complications. If any issues arise—eliminate them."

"Yes, sir."

The Carter residence loomed ahead, and my mind was already focused on the next task. Debt collection was never just about money. It was about keeping fear alive and reminding everyone who truly ruled this city.

Jack parked smoothly in front of the house. The lights were on, illuminating the modest facade. I stepped out of the car with the unhurried grace of a predator, adjusting my suit as Jack positioned himself behind me—his presence, a constant shadow. We walked up to the door, where he knocked twice, firm and deliberate.

A hesitant voice called from inside.

"Coming."

The anxiety in the woman’s voice was palpable. A small smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. Fear would soon stain every corner of this house.

The door creaked open, revealing a woman with a weary expression. The moment her eyes met mine, terror flooded her face. That alone brought me a cold satisfaction.

"May we come in, sweetheart?" I asked smoothly, my voice like silk—soft yet laced with undeniable menace.

She tried to speak, but no sound came out. She just stood there, frozen. From inside the house, I heard the husband’s voice.

"Who’s at the door?"

Without waiting for a reply, I took a step forward, forcing her to retreat. She stumbled and fell to the floor. I stepped inside, feeling the weight of my power settle over the room. Jack followed closely behind.

The husband, recognizing me immediately, scrambled to his feet. His panicked eyes locked onto mine as he stammered.

"M-Mr. Castellano?"

I didn’t respond. I simply walked to the couch and sat down like a king, crossing my legs with measured calm, amplifying the terror in the air. Furthermore, I pulled a cigarette from my coat, and Jack, always attentive, lit it for me. I inhaled deeply, exhaling the smoke slowly as I watched the couple.

The silence in the room was suffocating, broken only by their ragged breathing and the faint crackle of the cigarette. I uncrossed my legs, then crossed them again—a calculated movement. The Carters dropped to their knees before me, a desperate display of submission. I allowed a moment to savor it before finally speaking, my voice soft but laced with authority.

"You know why I’m here." I exhaled the smoke in a long, deliberate stream. "I don’t like misunderstandings."

The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on. Their fear was nearly tangible.

Charles, the husband, lifted his head with visible effort, his eyes glassy with tears.

"M-Mr. Castellano… p-please… we still don’t have the money. I… I’m looking for work… to pay you as soon as possible…" He swallowed hard, his hands trembling. "We… we just need a few more months… p-please…"

A cold laugh escaped my lips, echoing through the room.

"A few months?" I repeated, dripping with mockery. "I gave you a year to pay me, Charles. I was very generous because—" I tilted my head, my cruel smile widening. "I liked you. I gave you a chance. And now you’re telling me you don’t have my money? Are you joking with me?"

"N-No, sir… please…" He whimpered, sobbing. "I’m not joking…"

I stood slowly, pacing toward him. I ran a hand through my hair, as if considering his words. Then, my eyes darkened.

"Seems like I’ll have to recover my money another way."

Before Charles could react, I moved fast—driving my knee into his face. The sharp crack of his nose breaking filled the room. He screamed, his hands flying up to stop the bleeding. I grabbed his arm and twisted until I heard the sickening snap of bone. His wail echoed through the house, and I simply laughed—a dark, twisted sound.

His wife’s sobbing made my irritation flare. I exhaled sharply, striding toward her with deliberate steps. I grabbed her hair, yanking her toward me with brutal force.

"Shut up." My voice was cold and inescapable. "Your voice annoys me."

But she kept crying. My patience shattered. I slammed her head against the floor—again and again—until the sobbing stopped and blood spread beneath her motionless body. I let go, her lifeless form collapsing against the ground.

"Much better," I whispered to myself.

I turned back to Charles, who writhed in agony. I crouched beside him, my fake smile widening.

"You’ll be joining her," I murmured, my voice low, almost soothing—as if I were offering relief. But the true horror lay in the fact that my words were not a threat.

They were a sentence.

Charles’ eyes widened, his face contorted in a terror beyond comprehension. The despair twisted into rage, and he screamed, his voice breaking with hate and helplessness.

"You monster!"

A sharp, mirthless laugh left my lips—a blade disguised as sound.

"I know."

Before he could react, I grabbed his throat with one hand, feeling his hot, sweaty skin against my fingers. I squeezed tightly, crushing his trachea little by little. His eyes rolled back, his body convulsing in a pathetic final struggle to survive. With a sharp motion, I twisted his neck. The sickening crack echoed through the room like muffled thunder.

His body collapsed beside his wife—lifeless, worthless. I observed the scene for a moment, like an artist admiring his masterpiece. The blood pooled beneath them, a perfect frame for my punishment.

Jack remained impassive, as always. He had seen this countless times before.

"Have someone collect the bodies. Use whatever can be sold on the market," I ordered.

Jack nodded, pulling a radio from his coat to relay the instructions. His voice remained cold, professional.

"Let’s go. We still have another debt to collect."

I took one last glance at the corpses before stepping out. The weight of blood clung to my clothes, the metallic scent mixing with the stale air of the house.

Jack opened the car door for me, and I slid inside unhurriedly, adjusting my suit as he took the driver’s seat.

Inside the car, I pulled out a clean handkerchief and began wiping the remnants of the night from my hands, the white fabric absorbing the traces of what I had just done.

"Leandro Cooper is at the main club tonight," Jack informed me, his voice steady as he navigated through the city. "Our men have already been ordered to bring him to the VIP room."

I nodded slightly, a satisfied smile creeping onto my lips.

"Perfect. Let’s teach him the true meaning of the word debt."

The night was far from over.