Chapter 15: The Severed Ties
Marcus sat in a dingy motel room in Queens, nervously counting the minutes until Friday. He took a swig of cheap whiskey, grinning at the thought of the payout.
Suddenly, the flimsy wooden door of his room exploded off its hinges.
Before Marcus could even scream, two massive men in tactical gear stormed the room, grabbing him by the arms and slamming him violently into the wall.
A moment later, Damiano Verrone stepped into the room. He wore a flawless three-piece suit, looking like an angel of death in the squalid surroundings. He slowly peeled off his leather gloves, his dead, emotionless eyes fixing on Marcus.
"You must be the ghost," Damiano said, his voice echoing in the small room.
Marcus was hyperventilating, urine soaking through his jeans. "Verrone... listen, man. We can work this out. I just want what's mine!"
In a flash of movement too fast to track, Damiano grabbed Marcus by the throat, lifting him an inch off the ground and pinning him against the cracked drywall.
"Nothing in this world is yours," Damiano hissed, his face inches from the terrified man. "Mia is mine. Elena is mine. The air you are currently breathing belongs to me."
Damiano dropped him. Marcus collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.
"Elena begged me for your life," Damiano said, pulling a thick envelope from his inner jacket pocket and tossing it onto the floor. "There is fifty thousand dollars in there. And a one-way ticket to a shipping freighter headed for Southeast Asia. It leaves in one hour."
Marcus looked at the envelope, trembling violently. "And... and if I don't get on it?"
Damiano pulled his customized 9mm from his shoulder holster, checking the chamber with a terrifying, metallic click.
"If you miss that boat," Damiano whispered softly, "I will not kill you quickly. I will keep you alive in my basement for a month. I will peel the skin from your bones, and I will make you beg for the death you faked six years ago. Do you understand?"
"Yes! Yes, god, yes!" Marcus sobbed, grabbing the envelope.
"Good." Damiano holstered his weapon. "If you ever look at a picture of my daughter again, I will know. Run."
When Damiano returned to the estate just before dawn, he found Elena sitting on the floor of the hallway, leaning against their bedroom door, asleep. Her face was tear-stained.
He scooped her up effortlessly into his arms. She woke up with a gasp, clinging to his shirt.
"Is he...?" she whispered, terrified.
"He is gone," Damiano said, carrying her to the bed and laying her down gently. "He is on a boat to the other side of the world. He will never bother you again. I kept my promise, Elena. No blood."
Elena let out a ragged sob of relief, pulling Damiano down by his lapels until he was hovering over her. "I'm sorry," she cried, kissing his jaw, his cheek, his lips. "I was so scared. I’m sorry I didn't trust you."
Damiano rested his forehead against hers, the ice in his veins melting completely under her touch. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a velvet box, flipping it open to reveal a massive, flawless diamond ring.
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"Do not ever keep a secret from me again," Damiano commanded softly, slipping the ring onto her trembling finger. "Because from this day forward, there is no you and me. There is only us. The King and his Queen. Until death."
Elena looked at the ring, her heart bursting with an overwhelming, consuming love for the monster who had become her savior. "Until death," she whispered back.
