His head

SOREN

I buttoned up my dark grey shirt and slid the black tie into place. I strapped the leather harness tight across my chest and shoulders. Gloves went on next, glasses with the little red rose last—ready.

I lit one stick of cigar, placing it on my lips before tucking the pack into my back pocket. I wrapped my cold hands around my gun and walked out. It was past five in the morning, and the house was a bit quiet, save for the faint sounds of guards on duty.

I walked through the hallways to the West Wing, the smoke from my cigar dancing behind me. I stood at the top of the stairs and tapped the earpiece. "What's the update?"

Vinny's voice answered immediately. "The cars are all ready. Two daggers are in the car. Your orders are the only thing absent."

I puffed out some smoke as I replied, "Send the snipers ahead. Let them get positioned before we get there."

"Got it. But there's something I found out."

"What?"

"Someone told me Rex came out of Don's office with some documents that day. Maybe they have a connection to Don Pedro," he replied.

I frowned, turning to stare in the direction of the East Wing. If Vinny was right, then I wouldn't be surprised if my dad had given him important information that I was supposed to get first, before anyone else. Again.

My jaw tightened. It had become a habit, my father handing Rex things that should have come to me. Sometimes I wondered whether he even remembered who his actual son was.

I tightened my grip on my gun as I made my way to the East Wing. I was going to get those documents from him, no matter what. But I didn't get far because I paused, narrowing my eyes as I caught sight of him heading in the direction of my dad's office.

Five a.m.? What the fuck did they have to discuss at this time of day? Important information, I bet.

I followed him, careful not to let my heavy footsteps give him the idea that I was behind him. I took a deep drag from my cigar as I watched him pause in front of the closed door. The rise and fall of his shoulders told me he took a deep breath, and then he went in.

"What's got the idiot breathing deeply?" I muttered, contemplating going into the office, but Vinny's voice came through.

"Soren?"

I stared at the closed door some more before I answered, "Coming." I turned back, heading outside. It didn't matter anyway. I would just waste time arguing with the bastard. As soon as I got outside, I threw my cigar on the ground and stepped on it.

"What kept you?" Vinny asked. He was dressed properly for the mission, with two AKs resting on his shoulder.

"Nothing," I replied, getting inside the car. "Let's go."

Throughout the ride there, I couldn't stop thinking about my father and Rex. Even now, I still didn't understand why my father favoured or liked him so much. He wasn't the only boy my father had adopted into this system. But when it came to Rex, it was like it ran on a deeper level.

"Were you able to find out what the documents are about?" Vinny asked.

"Doesn't matter. Let's just get the work done. Father wants his head, and that's what I'll give him."

The cars had barely stopped outside the Spanish club when I shoved my door open, my jaw tight and my fingers right on the trigger, as I made my way inside.

Vinny fell into step behind me. "Snipers are in position," he said quietly.

"Tell them to start counting dead bodies," I said, and Vinny immediately relayed my orders. Gunshots erupted.

The first shot took the guard on the left in the throat, and the second took the one on the right in the face. They were still falling when I kicked the door open and walked in over them, the blood from the first one already soaking into my boot.

The music was still pounding, but the dancers were all screaming and crawling toward the exits as the Spanish men came out from the back. The whole room turned into noise and smoke.

A bullet tore through the shoulder of the man beside me and sprayed my cheek with his blood, so I dragged him behind the bar and left him there before coming back up firing. Vinny dropped beside me and shot a man in the stomach who was running at us with a knife, but the man kept coming anyway. He fell on top of Vinny, who shoved him off and put one more bullet in his head.

Glass was exploding all around us, and the smell of gunpowder and spilled liquor was thick in my throat. I was so angry that I didn't feel the bullet that grazed my arm until I saw the blood running down to my fingers.

"Balcony," I said, and a shot cracked from the rooftop, making a man fold over the railing and hang there, blood dripping onto the dance floor.

We pushed forward, table by table, and it was ugly because the Spanish men did not run. One of them caught me by the jacket and slammed me against a pillar until I drove my gun into his ribs and fired twice.

He slid down the pillar, leaving a long red streak, and I stepped over him without looking when another man came at me from the side. I smashed the butt of my gun into his teeth and then shot him where he lay.

Vinny covered my left, and I took the right as we kept moving until the floor was slick under our shoes and nobody was left standing between us and the hallway.

The red hallway was quiet except for the ringing in my ears. I frowned when I saw two of Pedro's last guards slumped against the wall with holes in their chests.

Who shot them?

One of them was still breathing in short, wet gasps, so I put a bullet in him as I passed, and Vinny reloaded behind me without a word.

I wiped the blood out of my eye with my sleeve, and I didn't stop at the heavy door at the end. Instead, I put my boot through it and walked into Don Pedro's private room.

I stopped in my tracks, the frown on my face morphing into something dark and ugly as I saw a bloody Pedro and Rex. Six guards were already dead in the room, while Pedro was tied to a chair, three of his fingers gone, with only the others remaining.

For a second, I just stared at his back. The bastard had somehow managed to get here before me, and judging by the bodies scattered around the room, he'd already done most of my job.

My fingers tightened around my gun.

“What the fuck—how did you get here?” I spat, walking into the room. The only sound was Don Pedro's groan floating around the room.

Rex turned to me, his face stained with blood, and said, “On the mission that was given to both of us.”

“Shut the fuck up. I told you not to interfere with my business. I made it clear that I don't want you on this assignment.” Then I turned to Vinny behind me. "Go check if the men are okay." He nodded before walking away. I turned back to Rex, who stood up as he cleaned the blood off a dagger. I caught sight of an eagle-shaped crest on it.

“You made it so clear by coming a day before the arranged day.”

“I can come on an assignment any time I want, Rex.” I walked up to him and tapped my gun against his head. “I'm the boss here. You're not. Get that into your fucking head.”

He pushed the gun away and walked past me. “Your dad wanted Pedro's fingerprints on these documents,” he said, holding up some papers. So that was what the documents were about. Don Pedro's groaning was getting on my nerves, so I shot him in the legs before turning back to Rex, who was almost at the door.

“How the fuck did you get here so fast? I saw you going into my father's office earlier.” Rex froze, his shoulders growing tense for a moment before relaxing again.

"I went to get the papers. He gave them to me this morning," he said, turning sideways to look back at me. "Plus, my motorbike is faster than your stupid car,” he said before walking out.

I stared at the ghostly presence of him, my mind registering that he had just lied to my fucking face. Vinny said he got the papers the day we were told about it. So why the hell would he lie?

“Your father betrayed me.” I turned toward the pain-filled voice of Don Pedro. “Sending that Bullet bastard to interrogate me for things I know nothing about?”

Interrogate? So that's why Rex cut off his fingers. But about what?

“And what's the deal with this fake currency? I didn't pay with fake currency!”

“Shut the hell up. Are you saying my dad is lying?”

“Yes, your dad is a lying, sneaky bastard—”

I forcefully opened his mouth and put three bullets through his throat before taking out my dagger.

«»«»«»«

The sky had turned bright by the time we arrived at the mansion. Don Pedro's head was in a black polythene bag as I made my way to my father's office. I couldn't stop thinking about Rex's lie. Had my father given him other papers that morning? Or was he now a lying bastard?

Only my dad could confirm the truth, and I could finally expose his lying ass.

But as I opened my dad's office door and walked in, the words died in my throat before I could ask him. My gaze fell on the desk, and for one stupid second, my mind refused to understand what I was seeing.

I stared at the familiar face, waiting for it to move, for my father to look up and ask what the hell I was doing standing there.

But he didn't move.

My father's head sat on the desk.

Like a present.