The Predator

There was a little bird here. With fluttering wings and quivering eyes. Hypocritical and desperate. Weak and transparent.

I had never been the one to be fleeted by small creatures. Not only useless, but they're often hard to tame.

"You scared her." While smirking, Kyle poured two glasses of Beluga and directed his gaze towards the useless contract. "You're cruel."

So I had been told. The qualities I got from my dear father. No complains. I love the power control gave me. The feeling of being the one controlling rather than a powerless freak was intoxicating. In control, I felt alive. I set the pace. It was not a mere rush, but a necessity.

Power was a necessity. Without it, I was just like that little bird—vulnerable, at the mercy of the winds. It was my armour, my shield against the chaos. It granted me control, and the ability to shape my world rather than be shaped by it. I couldn't afford to be weak, to let the small and fleeting dictate my fate. No. I needed to command, to dominate. And it wasn't just about survival, it was about thriving, about imposing my will and marking my territory.

Without it, I was nothing but a feather in the storm, blown wherever the currents took me. But with it, I was the storm.

The world bent to my will; everyone in it was merely a piece on my board. The fear I see in other's eyes- it's exhilarating. Thriving.

They would never realise how easily I could dismantle their little worlds and turn their lives upside down with a mere flick of my wrist. Or my gun. Depends.

I am a force of nature-unstoppable and durable. Like I said, I am a storm.

"You want me to burn this thing or what?" He asked in Russian and handed me the glass. I eyed the contract, sipping on the Beluga. Naïve. Dumb American. The contract was fake, if she had read it carefully, there was no word in this damn contract regarding the job she'd signed for. But it was necessary. A step I must take cautiously if I want her to be useful.

There was barely any patience and time I could give to traitors when I was this close to slaughtering Lucius Morozov. One mistake and everything would collide. 

Like a king surrounded by enemies, I had to be vigilant, calculating, and always three steps ahead. In this game, power was my queen, the piece that could turn the tide. Sacrifice the weak, outmanoeuvre the pawns, and protect the core. There was no room for error, no forgiveness for betrayal. To lose focus was to invite defeat. And Judas Romanovski never loses.

"Burn it," Kyle nodded at my command. The only person I trust beside my family.

My eyes wavered to the gold brick on the table, the one she waved in front of my fucking face. She was clever. I'd give her that. If she had tried to steal it, I would have snapped her neck right then and there. That tempting, slender neck was so delicate that one of my hands would be enough to crush it.

But she tried her best until the very end. In her eyes, I saw the reflection of my power, and it was glorious. Addicting. I could still taste it on my tongue. However, I was not some idiot to let the power control me. And I certainly was not allowing mere emotions to reign my control.

Kyle opened the window letting the smoke that filled the room escape clearing my vision and thoughts in one breath.

"Schedule a press conference. Judas Romanovski is ready to take over his father's throne."

"So soon?"

"Media is the wildfire, Molotov. It spreads whispers faster than the wind," the bitter taste of Beluga burned my tongue and I relished in it. Kyle gave me a curt nod, and my eyes wandered to the couch where that little bird was sitting. Something shiny and small caught my eye. What the fuck was that? I leaned forward my fingers brushing against the small glass bottle. She must have dropped it. Curious, I opened it and the sweet intoxicating smell assaulted my nostrils. A fucking lip gloss. 

I know it, cause Anya was fucking obsessed with one of these. Note: Buy some for her before returning to Italy.

"And have that girl tailed," I smiled maliciously. "Lucius would find her soon."

What was her name again?

There was only one reason for choosing someone as small, soft, and mentally weak as her. To use her as bait.

I needed bait that was intelligent, but frail enough that she'd be easy to kill. Once I had no more use for her, I didn't really care what happened to her. While she was too beautiful to simply throw away after using, the fact that she was as important as dirt under my shoe didn't change anything.

Even if she died, no one would bat an eye. But, when I remembered the look in her eyes, I started to feel strange.

"Will you just sit by and watch her be endangered?"

I had been staring out the window but turned towards Kyle and gave him a cold gaze upon hearing his question. His smirk faltered.

I stood up after tapping the ash from the cigarette into the ashtray.

"Aren't you interested in who will try to approach her first? Well, it doesn't matter who it is. They won't be able to kill her. After all, she agreed to become my pawn. So, whether she lives or not, that is something I will decide. Don't you agree?" Violence shimmered in my eyes. "My bets are on younger one."

I gazed over the snow-covered lawn, my eyes on the statue. "I'm curious, Kyle, how would he react?" My jaw clenched, and I felt the fire within me burning that had been lit since two years ago. And nothing would satiate the flames except for his blood. He started this game of betrayal, I'd end it with his blood. He'd pay, and bleed, but not now, I'd give him time, and I'd be the one standing over him, watching as the life drained from his eyes.

I didn't realise my palms dug into the sill until I felt the pain.

Soon, Lucius. Soon. We'd meet, and you'd wish for death instead of me.

❁

The screams of anguish bouncing around the cement walls were annoying. I enjoy pain, only when I was in the mood, but tonight I didn't either have the patience or time for this pussy. And I was the most patient man ever to exist.

Normally, I know how to wait for what I want. Abnormally, my fingers twitched to end this motherfucker's life who was too busy shitting his pants and crying like a fucking rat, "You better start talking, or I'll shove this damn knife all the way through your eyeball."

Of course, he didn't answer but I smelled more urine. Fuck, I should've stuffed his asshole with a plug and dismembered him before interrogation.

He whimpered, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Come on, Evans, I dedicate my Sundays to fucking, and I'd rather hear moans than your cries."

Alright, picture this: I was standing there, trying to channel my inner Zen master while Mr Snivels was unleashing a sonata of tears and snot. It looked like a bad rendition of 'Cry Me a River,' except I was not feeling particularly sympathetic. My patience was wearing thin. I had a fucking conference to attend for fuck's sake.

"You got five seconds before I turn you into a human sushi," I warned pressing the knife under his chin and he whimpered again.

I tried to keep a straight face, but it was a struggle. When I realised he wasn't going to talk, I stood up and threw the knife over my shoulder. It clattered and I motioned Kyle beckoning him over. "What's his name?"

"Hunter," Laughable. Sweat dripped down his nose mixing with snot and blood on his face. His overgrown greasy hair matted to his forehead. "Hunter Evans." Kyle completed. Now I remember.

I couldn't have him killed, at least not now, I needed some information, and the dickhead was not talking. I opted for a less evil way removed my blazer and handed it to Kyle before rolling the sleeves of my dark shirt.

Hunter's eyes followed me with fear. He must have thought of me as an unhinged and bipolar man. He thought right though.

His whimpers worsened and my ears twisted as I grabbed the thumb screws. I recently bought it and haven't tried it. Guess Hunter would be the first. "Um, Sir..."

"Not now, Kyle, I'm fucking busy," I retorted advancing towards Hunter with calculative steps and crouched.

My voice was low, and my head tilted as I studied him. "So, tell me, Hunter, do you like to hunt?"

The motherfucker still remained silent and swallowed. If he was scared, he should've known better than to make me provoke me. I smiled, and he shivered more. I must resemble a stray dog that's about to jump on passersby. "Oh, don't be flustered, I know you have some weird taste." I caressed his fingers and my eyes bored into him. "How does it feel? Exhilarating, right?"

He didn't reply. Expected. "Tell me, Hunter, while hunting... do you ever feel hunted?" He sniffled, snot leaking down his chapped lips. I rolled my neck, groaning as the muscles popped. It had been a long fucking day.

"Fucking talk!" I ground out impatiently through my clenched jaw.

"Sir," Kyle's annoying voice was not helping and I snapped. "What?!"

"You cut off his tongue yesterday."

Oh....

"Then what is this fucker doing here? You want to take his place, Kyle?" My second-in-command shook his head.

Hunter looked up at me with hopeful eyes, his breathing calmed when I put the thumb screws back on the table and picked up the knife and inspected it. Papa gave it to me when I turned eighteen. A serpent was embroidered on it. Hunter grunted and I turned my head at him.

His eyes widened when I advanced towards him and plunged the knife into his neck. He gargled and died instantly. His body fell on the ground with a thud and I tilted my head staring at his open eyes. Hope was still there, yet. It was comical to the point I chuckled. Now that's what I was missing. Top of Form

I fucking feel the adrenaline rushing through my veins, so intense I couldn't help but chuckle at his state. So fucking pathetic. He thought he could sneak into my house and try to threaten me. The fucking audacity. Like I said, I was the storm-turbulent and destructive. And I'd sweep everything in my path-including that little bird.