CHAPTER 4: Burning In Hell - 1

FIEND POV

THREE WEEKS LATER

My temper has only gotten worse in these damned weeks that have passed with unbearable slowness.

Fucking problems seem to be raining down on us lately, and to top it off, I can't have a minute of peace like before.

I haven't even been able to fuck the bitches like usual, because the worries don't stop for a moment.

We have to reinforce the security of the club and we will sleep with one eye open and the other closed, just in case.

Someone is screwing us over big time in business, and the fact that we haven't been able to find out who the bastards are,that are behind all this makes my blood boil to the boiling point.

We need to find the people responsible for the last two distribution deals we had with our Mexican friends and the Russians.

And when we do, I'll make sure to rip their hearts out with my own hands.

The losses made all the brothers nervous.

We are used to pocketing millions of dollars from the purchase and sale of illegal weapons that the cartel bought, then take care of transporting them directly to the border crossing in Texas.

Top quality material that is made up of an arsenal that ranges from the army's assault submachine guns and semi-automatic weapons to the high-caliber pistols that the Russians supply us monthly.

But this month, we found that everything went to hell because of a mysterious and anonymous third-party supplier who seemed to have come out of nowhere to offer these greedy bastards a much juicier counter-offer, stealing a deal that was already closed right under our noses.

I feel like cutting someone.

I hate not being in control of the situation.

As soon as Dereck and Zack informed me of what had happened, I almost lost my fucking mind.

I wanted to start a war with the damn Russians but of course, after calming down and thinking things over with a cool head, I realized that this time, things are not going to be so simple that a little brutal force will suffice to fix them.

No, this mess looks like it's going to be a pain in the ass if we don't act in anticipation of whoever is screwing us over on our fucking business.

Needless to say, we can not sit back and do nothing.

We have been doing some searching with the help of our brothers from other neighboring branches.

We have even asked the nomads – who usually take care of the more clandestine part of the business in the shadows because the ATF is not so on top of them as they do not have a fixed place of residence – to be on the alert.

But no, it seems that our new and mysterious enemies know very well how to go unnoticed.

This has me climbing the fucking walls with the desire to start a fucking massacre, which grows with each passing day.

We've been keeping an eye on that traitor's styles because even though during our visit to his sister's house he proved to be nothing more than a puppet whose life I spared only because the brunette with the big tits promised to pay us back every penny.

Years in this life of blood, death, and betrayal have taught me not to trust even my own fucking shadow.

Parry told me that he hardly ever leaves the apartment, and on the few occasions he has done so, it has been to go out partying with his sister and his roommate.

A jerk.

Which reminds me that this brunette has a score to settle with me.

There's only one day left until the deadline I gave her to pay us expires, and she better keep her word if she wants to stay alive because no one is going to fool me and see a new dawn.

Not even if she's a bitch as hot and explosive as her.

My word is law and whoever has a problem with that can suck my dick.

On the other hand, this afternoon I have a meeting with Los Salvador, one of the clubs that we have as allies here in the city.

I doubt that they are the ones who are screwing us over, too many years of loyalty and peaceful coexistence, but I want to make sure we part ways without screwing each other over.

The founding members made it their business to make peace with them many years ago, after a bloody war in which there were too many casualties, including innocent victims... in that battle, my VP's father was killed, giving his life to ensure the safety of the club.

My brother is proud of him to the core.

Instead, our long-time rivals, the Lone Hawks, may be the ones behind it all.

And if we can get even the tiniest bit of evidence, I'm not going to hesitate to unleash another war in which I will spare no resources.

I don't care how many heads roll, I'm not going to deprive myself of the pleasure of slitting Hawk's fucking throat, their fucking president.

I've had a grudge against that son of a bitch for years.

It's no secret that he and his people are involved in the trafficking of prostitutes.

He may be an unscrupulous and heartless guy, but I've never crossed that line, nor do I intend to. It's a matter of principle.

We wild Fiend,

are not going to collaborate in a business that is dedicated to snatching poor innocent girls from the arms of their families to be raped and degraded for years by selling bitches until they end their days in a hole or working in some brothel exposed to all kinds of misery.

I know what I'm talking about, And it disgusts me to the point that I would gladly cut off any of those bastards' dicks.

A knock on my bedroom door brings me out of my gloomy thoughts of slaughtering abusive pigs until not even their last name remains.

Immediately, my already foul mood worsens to the point that, if it's another bad piece of news, I doubt I'll be able to contain myself from exploding like a fucking gas.

I need a proper fuck to vent the thousand-devilish temper I've had lately or I'm going to end up killing someone.

Come in here, whoever you are! — I bellow, my fists clenched.

I don't hesitate to grab the bottle of bourbon on the shelf in my room and put it down halfway in one gulp.

I need to calm down.

I don't know what's happening to me lately, I get out of control too quickly.

A blonde hair reveals that the person who comes to piss me off is my good old vice president.

I give him a look that could have instantly struck down even the bravest of men (I have a shitty temper in the mornings, you should know that by now), but the idiot just laughs.

Only he could provoke me like that after the week we've had, what the fuck do you want now? — I snapped, huffing.

I take another sip of the drink, beginning to relax as I feel the embers of alcohol running down my throat like wildfire.

Dereck dares take advantage of my brief lapse of calm to snatch the bottle from me and take a long swig.

I stand up from the desk, shooting him a death glare, to snatch it back.

Damn... I see you've woken up as charming as ever — he mocks, fixing his hair with his hands.

That's nothing new, get to the point, damm it.