The Accountant

Chapter 12 Partial Payback Trigger Warning Please be guided 18+ Dominic



Chapter 12 Partial Payback Trigger Warning Please be guided 18+ Dominic

The thick chains hanging from the solid concrete walls filled the entirety of the room with synonymous

sounds and rhythm of the chimes. Only this time, this signified death and not serenity. It was likewise

fucking calming to The Butcher's salivating demon.

Anyone who was observing him right this second will be mistaken by the way he carried himself.

Too jolly and too relaxed. A thin superficial layer concealing the devil within. The one who enjoyed

playing with the blood of the enemies.

"So, which one would like to go first?" His dark chuckles made all the captives whimper in fear behind

the black cloths covering every inch of their heads down to their shoulders. The fuckers had recognized

his voice.

His amused gaze found a man in the same state, however, his back faced him. The prisoner's limbs

quivered from the strain of the pulling chains. Ah, the rat. Specially bound for the tzar's amusement.

"Tsk. Tsk. Daniel Mills." The former employee cocked his head to the side to hear Dominic better. He

began to talk behind his encumbered head. "What? I can't hear you. Speak up!"

Muffled and incoherent words reached Dominic once more. Oh, I see. Realizing the problem. The

chained man couldn't talk because he was gagged as well. My bad.

Dominic lifted his chin to one of his men. They complied and removed the black cloth and gag.

The traitor blinked rapidly and groaned from the harsh light directed at him. When his blurry eyes

landed on Dominic's aggressive form, he began to sob. "Boss...please... I didn't know.

Please...don't...kill me."

"Kill you? I won't. Why would you think that?" Murmuring gently in response, fleshy lips flattened in

thoughts. The tzar's casual steps brought him to a secure panel. He punched in a series of codes, it

beeped and slowly opened to reveal trays of weapons, displayed for Dominic's personal use. Perfect. It

had been a while but he had not forgotten.

All types of specially made knives were displayed and arranged perfectly before him, from fixation

Bowies, authentic katanas, bolos, Gerber, and...

Ah, this one.

He slowly raised his glinting Obsidian knives. The thinnest blades one could ever find were three

nanometres wide at the edge – 10 times sharper than a razor blade. These were made by flaking a

long, thin sliver from a core of the volcanic glass. Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

This was perfect!

"Prepare him." He instructed without turning his head, knowing his men will know what to do. He

critically examined each piece to make sure it will work on the flesh like butter.

"No! Please...no!" The prisoner cried in protests. The front of his pants darkened.

Dominic snarled in disgust.

Alec and two other men held the traitor down before securing the black leather stirrups.

"If you tell where the others are hiding, I can give you mercy and skin you half awake, if not, I will do it

with all your wits about you." Shrugging out of his jacket and his white pristine shirt, Dominic rolled his

shoulder blades, muscles bunching. Beau was the only one who can ruin all his clothes, no one else.

At the thought of his woman lying on a coma due to this man's greed, uncontrollable rage filled his

body.

"No mercy. I changed my mind." The fear in the bastard's swollen beady eyes gave him satisfaction.

They were just starting.

***

Hoarse and deep cries of pain resonated in the 12 by 16 dimensions of the prison cell, with steel and

brick walls and one solid barred door, no one will be able to hear the clamors for a quick death.

Dominic took a step back to wipe the blood dripping from his face and naked torso and surveyed his

handy work. His eyes blank and cold.

Daniel drew labored breaths, unconscious. The skin from his forehead down to his collarbone was

nicely peeled.

The mafia tzar grunted in satisfaction. Seeing as how the traitor fared well. Most men would have been

dead by now.

"Wake the fucker up." Screams of agony and whimpers were heard once more. Buckets of ice-cold

water poured to Daniel's blood coated and unrecognizable body. The dermis, beneath the epidermis,

showed tiny connective tissues, his dotted hair follicles, and the extremely damaged sweat glands.

"Just...kill...me," He begged. Ready to blacked-out at any moment.

Not yet. "Bring Paul over here. You will watch your bosses die before I cut you to pieces."

The motherfucker they were dragging to Dominic was an old friend of his father. One of the senior

CEOs of their chain of hotels and resorts. A wolf in a sheep's clothing. He and his nine other

accomplices have been robbing the organization blind for years. Money was not the issue. Loyalty was.

The former mafia leader, his father, and he gave them all they want. Riches, social standing, security,

and everything they had asked. His family has served their underbosses well. They repaid by making a

fool of him. Betrayed his trust and betrayed the mafia.

A shame the other five had escaped, anticipating this event. No matter, they would be found even if

they run and hide to the ends of the earth.

He faced the trembling man before him. On his knees, he looked pitiful. Dominic knew better.

"Tzar," he begged on his knees. "It was Samuel's plan. I wasn't part of it. I swear!"

Dominic didn't give a damn on who's done what. Even their whys were not significant. His detka was

hurt because of them. That was enough for him.

The thin deadly knife nicked the slab of fat on his chin as he forced the man to look at him.

"I don't give a damn, Paul. You die tonight. Rot in hell!" The pointy end pierced down his chin towards

his epiglottis immediately cutting his air supply. He gurgled and choked on his blood. Not satisfied, Dom

applied more pressure until the veins throbbing on the base of the throat was cut through.

He left him dying, thrashing on the floor.

"Next. Make it quick. We still have to chop the bodies."

Fuck! This will be a long night and he had to address the underworld at dawn.

It was high time to reestablished hierarchy.

***

The General

Alec

Shit! And he thought he was violent and brutal. That paled in comparison with what he had witnessed

tonight.


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