Cancelled

 Damien Voss POV 

The sound of my baseball bat cracking against skull was deafening. Bones shattered, bits of brain and blood stuck to the metal—my favorite weapon. I twirled it once, wrinkling my nose at the sight of hair and skull fragments clinging to the steel.

My phone's ringtone pierced the air, drowning out the groans and grunts of the man at my feet. I paused to glance at the mess of bodies littering the unfinished building's floor. Fifteen corpses, each one my doing. I was fucking proud of myself.

"You stay right here," I growled at the whimpering man, stepping over him to pick up the call.

There was no point telling him to wait—he couldn't get up even if he wanted to. I'd already separated both his legs from his body; what remained was a ruined mess.

I walked to the third-floor window, propping my elbow on the sill. Blood dripped from my hand as I pulled the phone from my pocket.

A deep grunt rumbled in my chest when I saw the caller: Mr. Dominic Bianchi. Fucking traitor.

"Damien Voss?" The muffled cries of the bastard hit my ears the moment I answered.

A relaxed sigh escaped me. My boys had gotten hold of him—judging by the shakiness in his voice, they'd already broken his ego.

"It's so nice to hear from you again, Mr. Bianchi," I said, grinning. I pulled my elbow off the sill, running my free hand through my hair and grabbing a fistful.

"Got anything to tell me about how my family's information got to that lousy cop?"

Agitation settled in the pit of my stomach as I yanked harder on my hair. Whoever the fucking bastard was who'd sold us out better be ready for my wrath.

"Damien," Mr. Bianchi cried out, muttering a curse before continuing. "I've worked with your father for over forty years, and something like this has never happened before. I swear on my life, I don't know which of my men leaked your family's information to Chief Russell."

My lips twitched in anger. I didn't know whether to scoff or laugh at his ridiculous excuse. "Great," I nodded. "I'm glad you've made your fucking choice."

After working my ass off day and night to keep my family's name off the feds' watchlist—sacrificing sleep, enduring migraines to make it work—that fucking idiot son of a bitch had sold us out to Russell and had the nerve to lie that he didn't know anything about it.

"Please... Please forgive me, Damien," he barked out an air-blasting cry. "I have a family, and for their sake I have never done anything to upset you. Please have mercy."

The fucking bastard should have thought of his damned family before choosing greed. He should have been content with the crumbs tossed his way instead of thinking he could outsmart me.

"You've made a grave mistake, Mr. Bianchi," I breathed, fist clenched around my hair in anger. "For your sake, I hope you're already six feet under. Because if I come for you, that's where you'll end up eventually."

Blood rushed through my ears as I ended the call and let out a beastly howl.

The urge to break something overwhelmed me. The desire to kill grew stronger, and I might have lost myself to the darkness wrapping around my throat if I didn't find a way to release the steam.

A soft whimper came from behind me. I turned, a deadly grin spreading across my face.

"Miss me already?" I smiled, picking up the baseball bat from the floor and slowly approaching the trembling man.

"Why..." he groaned in pain, eyes squeezed shut, gasping.

"Why don't you just kill me already, you fucking demon!"

I threw my head back and laughed heartily, tapping the bat on the ground above his head as I glared down.

"I love it when my toys cower at my feet in fear." I knelt, pinning him between my thighs. "And I love it even better when they act all tough and stubborn, making me want to play with them a bit longer."

He slowly opened bloodshot eyes, gaze meeting mine. My smile deepened, knowing I was the one who'd reduced him to this.

"I didn't even do anything wrong," he cried, body shaking. "I only cancelled a fucking contract with you, bastard, and I've already paid the damage costs!" He spat in my face, saliva hitting my skin.

I tilted my head, gritting my teeth as disgust churned in my stomach. My shoulders heaved with anger as I slowly wiped his saliva off with my bloodied shirt.

"Not just one mistake anymore, but two," I scoffed, turning back to meet his gaze.

"I hate the word 'cancelled'. It only sounds better when it comes from me." I tightened my grip on the bat and raised it.

"And the worst mistake you could ever make in your life is spitting saliva on my face."

"You..." he coughed blood, body trembling.

"The only thing I wouldn't mind staining my face is blood. So let's have your blood splash all over it instead of your saliva."

I raised the bat and slammed it into his face. His cries echoed through the hall. I didn't stop—stomping his skull with the bat, reveling in the melodious cries he made every time metal met bone.

The vibration of steel against bone ran up my arm, making it tingle. I loved that sensation. Nothing compared to the way it felt to hit something with my bat.

"Boss," Dominic entered, hands cupping himself in a curt bow.

I crashed the bat into the man's head one last time. He stopped twitching. Panting, I stood and twirled the bat.

Fifteen bodies needed disposal.

"Dominic, have someone from the office clear these bodies and dispose of them," I ordered, walking away from the mess.

"I'm on it." He pulled out his phone to call the cleaning team.

I dragged my feet toward the window, hearing footsteps trailing.

"What about that boy—Chief Russell's son? Did you get his information?" I asked, pulling out my favorite cigarettes and lighting one.

"His name is Jordan Hayes. He's 22 and..."

"Leads, Dominic! I want fucking leads!" I barked, cutting off the useless details. I wanted a lead on the boy who kept doing unimaginable things every time we met.

"Sorry." Dominic cleared his throat, stepping back. "Your meeting with him two years ago had nothing to do with the feds. He wasn't fishing for information. He just wanted to get back at his father for some reason."

I smirked, exhaling smoke. "Had he been in contact with his father or any of the feds?"

"None at all. Heard he was disowned and has been living on his own since two years ago." Dominic's reply wasn't what I'd hoped for.

"Think he's useful? Will Chief Russell call for negotiation if I have that boy in my possession?" My eyebrows shot up.

"Yes, I guess so. Russell might have disowned him, but he's a man who'd do anything for his two boys."

My lips curved into a tight smirk. I tossed the cigarette to the floor and crushed it.

"Great. I want that boy here tomorrow. And send a message to Russell after we have his boy."

I'd fucking kill the kid if it meant getting that stupid father off my family's business. I'd do anything to keep the Voss name out of the feds' mouths. Killing one boy meant nothing to me.