Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
“Samuel is dead. You’re stuck with Nero,” he said with barely restrained anger. His brother had also been a pig like him, but because he talked shit to and about women, not men, Father never batted an eyelid.
“And you’ll need all the help you can get, but we’ll talk about that later. First, get rid of this piece of shit.” Father said and kicked Oscar in the chest so hard Nero could swear he heard a rib crack.
Sweat salted his upper lip, and he placed the axe along his shoulders, wondering how to do this in order to avoid spraying the blood into the pool. Had he not earned a nice afternoon of lounging by the water and watching Miguel’s pecs? He did not want to swim in this bastard’s DNA. He glanced at Miguel, wondering what he thought of this show, but found him watching their new associates. Maybe it was for the better that he didn’t try to catch Father’s attention too much, like rookies often did, trying to show off in front of the big boss.
Oscar howled into the gag but didn’t struggle anymore, sobbing at the inevitability of his fate.
Nero exhaled, swept his gaze over the new guys, who watched him with calm interest, and figured out the sooner this farce was over the better. He stepped back, swung the axe, and parted Oscar’s head from his body in a single blow that sent blood splashing on the glinting stone. One second a man was alive, the next—dead.
He didn’t bother fucking about, and shoved the head right off the stump. It rolled to the edge of the terrace and plummeted into the caiman pool.
“He should play golf,” Cano said in a neutral tone, and it was impossible to say whether he was being serious or fucking with Nero.
Not that it mattered.
Faint red droplets now dotted the front of Nero’s pants, and he exhaled, dropping his execution tool. “There. Will your pets eat him whole, or should Solomon cut him into smaller chunks?”
Miguel became even more impossible to read when he put on a pair of sleek sunglasses, but no matter how much Nero longed to spend time with him only, he didn’t want to spotlight him too much. Father could be spiteful. And jealous even of people he detested.
“He smells of blood and they’re hungry. My caimans get the job done without anyone’s assistance,” Father said and snapped his fingers at Solomon.
His bodyguard grabbed Oscar by the legs, dragged him around the stump, to the edge of the terrace, and then kicked the body so it rolled down for the snapping jaws to gnaw on.
Cano cocked his head and stepped closer to get a better look. Nero was on the verge of pushing the bald fucker in just to see what would happen.
But it wasn’t worth it, so he pulled off his top and dropped it to the bloodstained tiles.
Ramiro clicked his tongue. “Time for us.”
So they’d come here for this execution? Father made them sound way more important than that.
“Come back in an hour or so for lunch,” Father said, lighting himself a cigarette. “I need Nero to get to know my new right hand man and his protégé.”
Right. Hand. Fucking. Man?
Was he saying these two fuckers would from now on be on a level playing field with him? Could they replace him whenever Father got bored of dealing with his shit? Or had they not been given access codes to the secrets the Caimans lived on? Who to bribe, where their secret fields were, and which politician was having an affair. Most importantly—the locations of secret gold stashes. All important matters when running a cartel, and as far as Nero was aware, he and Father were the only ones allowed to see the whole picture.
This time, he could feel his back secreting sweat.
Still, he smiled, as if nothing happened. “Why don’t you stay? We could relax and get to know each other better.”
Ramiro met his gaze in that same unflinching way as before, but which in this new context felt like a promise of violence. Fuck. Had he gained two new contenders to his throne?
“We have something to deal with in town. Personal stuff.”
“Guy or girl?” Nero asked with a grin meant to show off his sharp teeth.
Ramiro stilled with a frown. Good. They should stay confused and unable to guess Nero’s next move.
He regained his composure when Cano joined him. “A very different matter,” he said, and they walked off with a nod.
Father only spoke once a car engine came on behind the building. “Just be normal for once. They are vital to expanding our operation south.”
“Really? If they’re so important, why have we not discussed this earlier?” Nero asked and wiped his pants. He scowled when the attempt to make the red pin pricks less visible turned them into streaks. He readjusted his gun belt so it didn’t rub a particular spot on his hip and stared at the pool. The blood seemed to have drizzled straight toward the caiman enclosure. Maybe none of it got into the water after all?