RYAN
I caused this. The thought twisted in my mind as I stood before Ricardo, the man I had spent years hunting. Four months of watching him lose his mind over his own body’s betrayal. He had no idea that his impotence was my doing. To get close to him, I had conspired with his private doctor, slipping a drug into his system that slowly wrecked his ability to have sex. Every failed attempt, every frustrated outburst… it was all orchestrated by me. And now, standing here in front of him, I was about to undo it. Not out of mercy. Not out of guilt. I was going to fix him so that I could kill him. I’d kill him. Just like he killed my mother. Ricardo sat on the couch, legs spread, his fingers tapping against his knee. His dark eyes were locked onto mine. "You really think you can fix this?” I forced a neutral expression, keeping my posture relaxed. "I wouldn't be here if I couldn't." Reaching into my medical bag, I pulled out a syringe filled with the antidote. A mixture designed to counteract the drug I had been slipping into his system for months. His gaze shifted to the needle, then back to me. "And you're sure this will work?" I nodded. "Positive." This was it. The final step before I put an end to him. I pressed the needle against his skin and injected the antidote. Ricardo exhaled sharply, rolling his shoulders as if expecting to feel an immediate change. He flexed his fingers, then glanced at me with a smirk. "Now, how do we test if it worked?” I let out a slow breath, lifting my head. "You’ll feel the effects soon enough," I said smoothly. "Your body needs time to respond." “Bullshit," Ricardo chuckled. "If you're as good as you say, prove it. Make me hard… right now. Have sex with me.” What? My stomach dropped. My jaw locked, but I didn’t let my expression waver. Inside, my pulse was thrumming so fast I thought my ribs might crack under the pressure. Ricardo leaned back, his smirk deepening. "I want completely normal sex so that I can believe your treatment was successful," he muttered. "Right here. Right now.” Oh, shit. This wasn’t part of the plan. I hadn’t done this before. Never even thought about it. But if this was how it had to go, it would make my job easier. He had just handed me the perfect opportunity to kill him. My fingers brushed against the inside of my coat, where the second syringe lay hidden. The one that would end him. I swallowed, forcing my shoulders to stay relaxed as I glanced at the couch. “If we’re going to do this, I need you to sit back…” “Oh no, Doc. You don’t get to call the shots here.” Ricardo snapped. In a single movement, he reached behind his back and pulled out a black gun. “You’re gonna do this now or I’ll blow a hole through that pretty little head of yours.” I exhaled slowly, keeping my hands steady even as my stomach twisted. I could do this. I had to do this. I reached for my belt, my hands shaking so badly I could barely undo the buckle. But I couldn't stop now. I couldn't let him see how much this was tearing me apart inside. As I finally stepped out of my pants, I felt exposed in a way I never had before. Not just physically, but emotionally. This wasn't me. This wasn't who I was. But I had no choice. I had to keep going. Ricardo took a step closer, his gun still loosely pointed in my direction. "Now," he said with a low growl. "Let's see if you're the best." His smirk widened as I approached, reached for his belt and yanked his trousers down. He let out a low chuckle, clearly amused by my aggression. "Feisty, aren't we, Doc?" he taunted. I didn't respond. Instead, I grabbed him by the shoulders and shoved him back onto the couch. He landed with a grunt, his gun slipping from his hand and clattering to the floor. For a moment, l thought about going for it, but I knew I wouldn't be fast enough. He'd kill me before l even got close. So I did the only thing I could. I climbed on top of him, my hands gripping his hips as I positioned myself. My mind was screaming at me to stop, to run, to do anything but this. But I couldn't. I had to finish what I started. Ricardo’s lips curled into a smirk as he tossed a small bottle toward me. “You’re gonna need that.” I grabbed the bottle, my hands trembling slightly as I flipped it open and poured the lubricant over myself. I pushed inside him, and his breath hitched. His eyes widened in surprise, but then, to my horror, a low moan escaped his lips. His hands gripped the couch cushions, his body arching into mine as if he couldn't help himself. The sound sent a shiver down my spine, and I hated myself for the way it made my stomach twist. "Fuck," he muttered. "Didn't think you had it in you, Doc." I clenched my jaw, forcing myself to keep going. As I looked down at him, at the way his head fell back, his lips parted, his chest rising and falling with each breath, I felt something I hadn't expected. Something I didn't want to acknowledge. Ricardo's hands moved to my hips, his grip tightening as he pulled me closer, urging me to go faster. His eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw something in them that made my chest ache. I hated it. I hated him. But most of all, I hated myself for the way my body responded, for the way my heart raced, for the way I almost forgot why I was here. Almost. But not quite. I reached into the pocket of my discarded pants, my fingers closing around the small syringe I'd hidden there. My mission. My revenge. That was all that mattered. Not this. Not him. Just one push. That's all it would take. But then… Ricardo let out another deep groan, his fingers digging into my hips, his head falling back against the couch. For a split second, I was tempted to keep going. To lose myself in the moment. No. I clenched my teeth, forcing myself to focus. The syringe was in my grip, hidden against my palm. It would soon be over. Ricardo would finally pay for what he did to my mother. I adjusted my position slightly, bringing my hand closer… BANG! The door burst open. I froze. Ricardo's eyes snapped toward the door… then back to me. And then, slowly, his gaze lowered… to my hand. To the syringe. A deep, bone-chilling silence settled between us, and his smirk faded. "What the fuck," he muttered. "Why the fuck… are you holding a syringe, Doc?" I forced myself to stay still. I could feel his pulse against my skin, could hear my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.RYAN ONE WEEK LATER The stench hit first, then the smell of rotting flesh and disinfectant. I instinctively raised the collar of my shirt over my nose, but it didn’t help. Nothing could mask the decay. Ricardo stood beside me, his face pale but composed, one hand resting on the wall for balance. I told him he shouldn’t have come, not yet, but he insisted. Said he needed to see. So here we were. Staring down at the man who once made our lives hell. Rafael. If you could even call him that anymore. He looked like a shadow of what he once was. Bones jutting out beneath thin, papery skin. His face was gaunt, his cheeks sunken in. There were wounds on his arms, some stitched, some festering. Tubes ran in and out of his body, the machines beside him working overtime just to keep him breathing. He looked… dead. But he wasn’t. Not yet. “They’ve been passing fluids through him every day,” I muttered, unable to look away. “It’s the only reason he’s still alive. He hasn’t had solid food
RYAN“What…?” I whispered, stumbling back a step. “Oh God. Oh God.”I pressed my hand to my chest, like it could steady the riot inside. My heart was pounding, thundering so hard it felt like it was trying to escape.That wasn’t Ricardo.The body in the drawer… whoever it was, wasn't my Ricardo.He wasn’t dead.My knees almost buckled again.I staggered to the counter, bracing myself against it.The morgue attendant blinked at me, awkward now. “Sir? You okay?”Before I could speak, the door opened and a doctor in navy scrubs walked in, holding a clipboard.“What’s going on here?” he asked, eyes flicking from me to the drawer to the attendant.“I… I came to see Ricardo,” I choked out. “Ricardo Dantes. They said he died. But that’s not him. That’s not the man I came here for.”The doctor narrowed his eyes slightly, then stepped closer. “You were here yesterday, right?”I nodded quickly. “Yes. Yes, I was here to see Ricardo. But when I came back today… his room was empty. And they told m
RYANI watched him twitch in the chair.Still breathing.Good.This wasn’t supposed to be quick.Death was too kind for someone like Rafael. I wanted him to feel it. To live every second of it before the end came. He didn’t deserve a bullet. He didn’t deserve sleep. He deserved this… fire in his veins, bones cracking from strain, and the sound of my voice dancing in his ears like a lullaby to hell.But not yet.Not the end.That wasn’t mine to give.That would be Ricardo’s gift.The last torture. The final act. The moment Rafael would look into the eyes of the man he destroyed and realize he hadn’t even begun to pay for it yet.I wanted Ricardo to see him… raw, broken, stripped down to his last layer of pride. I wanted him to press the final switch. To look Rafael in the eye and return the favor.So, for now… I’d pause the performance.“Be right back,” I whispered near Rafael’s bloodied ear. “Don’t die on me yet.”He groaned faintly in reflex, and I gave him a pat on the cheek, then s
RAFAELI was pissed.Not scared, not confused.Just… pissed.I remembered the car slowing. Voices. Officers.A checkpoint.My heart had damn near leapt out of my chest when I heard them ask Ryan to open the trunk. For a moment… a sweet, breathless moment, I thought I was finally going to be saved.Freedom.That word danced in my head like a miracle.They were going to find me. Pull me out. Get me away from this psycho.But then…Nothing.No hands unzipping the sack.No flashlight blinding my eyes.No voice shouting, “We got a live one!”Just silence.And now I was here. Still here.With him.My mouth was dry, my limbs weak, and my body still recovering from the venom that had nearly stopped my heart.I didn’t know what he was going to do to me next. Didn’t know what twisted plan he had buried in that calm face and steady voice.But whatever it was...I was ready.Because I’d already been through hell.What more could he possibly do?He’d already broken my body. Already sliced me open
RYANI smiled as I slid back into the driver’s seat.The door shut with a satisfying thud, and I turned the key, the engine rumbling back to life beneath my feet.With one flick of my fingers, the music resumed, the lyrics pouring from the speaker.I cranked up the volume.Started singing along.Off-key. Loud and alive.“I hope you’re happy now,” I crooned over the lyrics, one hand on the wheel, the other drumming against the dash. “That I’m drowning you in everything you gave.”I couldn’t stop smiling.Fulfillment buzzed through my veins like static. That man in the trunk? That whimpering pile of ego and rot?He used to make people like me tremble.Now he was trembling. Because of me.He broke me.So this… this ride, this pain, that beautiful viper bite still simmering in his bloodstream… was justice. It was art.And I was the damn artist.I laughed under my breath, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. “You’re not even ready for what’s coming next, Rafael.”Then…Up ahead I saw red
RAFAELI was shaking.Profusely.Not from the cold… no, not from that.It was fear. Raw, primal fear that dug its claws into my spine and refused to let go.I never thought Ryan could be like this.Not him.Not the Ryan who used to flinch at the sight of blood… who once looked at me with something close to admiration.But this? This was a different man.I still didn’t understand how things had turned so quickly.How he’d survived. How Ricardo had found him… how they turned the tables.I remembered bits and pieces… flashes, maybe. The sound of my men screaming, something sharp sliding into my skin.Then nothing.It was like my memory had been shredded and thrown into the wind.Was I dreaming?Or had I gone mad?I was in a bag. Trapped. My body was burning, sore in ways I couldn’t describe. The venom from the first dose still made my limbs feel like molten iron, and my brain like mush.And then…I felt it. Something cold. Something alive.Slithering.A slow, coiling movement across my l