Battlefield

"Picking up your calls is way more important than traveling three hours to see me!" Mrs. Gabriel yelled while serving the variety of foods she had just prepared.

"Mum, aren't you happy I'm home already? Besides, you have three grown men here at your service!" Nikolai grumbled, slumping into his chair at the dining table.

"Oh, so you suddenly think you're much older than me? Papi, come see what your son is saying!" She snapped, and Nikolai rubbed his forehead in frustration.

"You know, Ma, I'm thirty-five. I'm not a kid you can always keep around. I have a life, I have businesses to run!" he hissed, his tone sharp.

"Oh, really? When I got pregnant with you, I didn't realize I was lifeless and jobless! All I'm saying is that you should make time for family; there's no replacement for that," Mrs. Gabriel continued, ruffling his hair affectionately.

"Hey, is that my grumpy brother?" Lorenzo, his immediate younger brother, called out as he descended the stairs. Beside him was Vincenzo, his twin.

Lorenzo and Vincenzo were opposites; while the former was lively, the latter was cold and indifferent, much like Nikolai.

"Vee, you've been around. I made your favorite burrito!" Mrs. Gabriel said, her voice tinged with hope. Vincenzo, however, just sat at the table, putting on his black headset without a word.

"What's wrong with him? Did you suddenly lose respect?" Nikolai muttered, giving Vincenzo a light punch on the arm. Vincenzo neither reacted nor spoke.

"Oh my goodness... I'm here, guys! No one is even asking about me? What am I, a spoon?" Lorenzo rolled his eyes, prompting a chuckle from Mrs. Gabriel.

"You're always shining, Lorenzo. We should be worried about Vee, not you. You can take care of yourself, I trust you!" she said with a smile.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Get the job done already!" A tall, dark-haired man with a tobacco pipe snapped as he entered the sitting room.

"Roberto! No work today. Give me your phone," Mrs. Gabriel said, snatching the phone from Mr. Roberto and slipping it into her pocket.

"Nikolai, what about business? It's Monday morning, and you're here to eat?" Mr. Roberto retorted, causing Nikolai to facepalm.

"Dad, your wife made me come back!" Nikolai responded. When his phone buzzed, he checked it, cleared his throat, and looked at Mrs. Gabriel. "Mum, I'm sorry, I have to go. See you later." He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and rushed off.

"You've chased my son away. Are you happy now, Papi?" Mrs. Gabriel sat down and began eating.

"He needs to work hard!" Mr. Roberto responded, and she scoffed.

"And why exactly are we billionaires? So our child can work himself into brain trauma?"

"That's not how brain tumors work, Ma," Vincenzo finally spoke while eating, though he was wearing a headset and listening to music.

"And what do you know? You're not a doctor!" Mrs. Gabriel snapped.

"About that…" Lorenzo looked at Vincenzo, knowing that no one else in the family was aware that Vincenzo had pursued medical studies instead of business.

"What do you know about me?" Vincenzo asked, drawing everyone's attention.

"I gave birth to you, of course, I know you," Mrs. Gabriel said, searching his eyes for emotion.

"Then do you know how much burritos, lasagna, and cheese make me want to throw up?" he yelled, slamming his hands on the table and making everyone flinch.

"Hey! Have you gone mad?" Lorenzo yelled, but Vincenzo just gave a dry smile, pushed his plate away, and left the dining table.

"Dad, he's finally crazy!" Lorenzo exclaimed, watching Vincenzo walk away.

"Give him time," Mrs. Gabriel said, and Mr. Roberto scoffed.

"I think it's time I deal with his madness."

*

*

"Boss!" Fiona called out, stepping back as Nikaloi approached the man tied to the chair. "His name is Johnny. He was involved in the crash of our business in London," she explained.

"How did you know I was shipping goods to London?" Nikaloi asked, settling onto a nearby couch.

"I'm a fucking policeman. Of course I know," Johnny grunted.

Nikaloi nodded and lit a cigarette, taking a long drag. "Tell me what you know about me," he said, exhaling a cloud of smoke.

"It doesn't matter. You're a criminal and deserve nothing but death," Johnny spat.

Fiona slapped him hard, knocking out one of his teeth. "Fuck," Johnny muttered, spitting out blood.

Nikolai's smirk widened into something more sinister. "I think it's time to add a little more to your summer bucket list," he announced as the door swung open, revealing a visibly pregnant woman being shoved into the room.

"No! Please, let her go!" The man's plea fell on deaf ears as Nikolai advanced toward the trembling woman. "You're beautiful," he said, his voice dripping with mock sincerity. "I like your curls."

"Don't…kill me instead!" The man's voice cracked, straining against the bonds that held him to the chair.

Ignoring him, Nikolai glanced at the gun on the table. With a slight nod, Fiona handed it to him. He then placed it in the woman's shaking hands. "Your choice: kill him or kill yourself."

"What? No!" the man screamed, but the woman, sobbing, raised the gun.

"I'm sorry, babe… I have to do it for the baby," she whispered, pulling the trigger. The gunshot echoed, and the man shut his eyes, a scream tearing from his throat. When he dared to open them again, he realized the gun had fired a blank.

Nikolai's expression darkened as he turned back to the woman. "You would kill him to save yourself?" She nodded, then shook her head, tears streaming down her face.

"It…it was for the baby," she stammered, collapsing to her knees.

"The baby? The one that's not even his? Pathetic," Nikolai sneered. He yanked the man's head back by his hair, eliciting a cry of pain. "You're not some hero. Your girlfriend is a spy, a puppet in this twisted game, and you took the fall. Why?"

"Because I love her," the man spat through clenched teeth. "Something you'll never understand."

Nikolai laughed coldly. "Love. What a pitiful excuse. Do me a favor—shoot her."

"No! I'd rather die!"

"Please, let me live! I'll destroy any evidence I have against you!" the woman pleaded, while Fiona rolled her eyes in contempt.

Nikolai sighed theatrically. "Fine. You can both die together. Maybe in your next life, you'll choose someone who won't cheat on you with your best friend and your brothers." He poured whiskey onto the floor, watching the liquid spread.

Nikolai emerged from the basement, a bone-chilling scream echoing behind him. If there was one thing he appreciated about Fiona, it was her unmatched talent for killing.

He vividly remembered the day he found her in that slave mobster's den. Buying her was one of his best decisions, not just because of her loyalty but because of her insatiable bloodlust.

"Boss, here's what you wanted," his assistant stammered, opening the car door.

Nikolai slid into the car, loosened his tie, and began leafing through the documents. He shot a withering glare at his assistant, who visibly trembled and looked away.

"The car won't start itself, will it? Why the hell are you standing there like an idiot? Move!" he barked. The assistant scrambled into the driver's seat, hands shaking.

After an hour of driving, Nikolai noticed a car tailing them persistently. He exhaled sharply, shrugging off his suit jacket to reveal his white long-sleeved shirt underneath. He pulled a gun from his waistband, readying it.

"Keep circling. Some fuckers are following us," he commanded. His driver, tense but obedient, immediately changed course, veering onto a series of lonely roads.

As they sped through the desolate streets, the pursuing car matched their pace. Glancing in the side mirror, Nikolai spotted two bikers closing in on them as well.

"Step on it!" Nikolai barked. The driver complied, pushing the car to its limits. The cat-and-mouse chase continued, each turn more nerve-wracking than the last. Nikolai's eyes never left the rearview mirror, tracking the relentless pursuers.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of evasive maneuvers, the driver pulled into a deserted area, the car skidding to a halt. The following vehicles stopped at a distance, engines idling ominously.

Nikolai stepped out, gun in hand, his demeanor cold and menacing. He took a few steps forward, his voice dripping with contempt as he called out, "Alright, you bastards. Let's settle this. Who sent you?"

"Take a guess, motherfucker!" someone shouted, dismounting his bike.

Nikolai smirked, raising an eyebrow. "Delrico, perhaps?"

As the man removed his helmet, Nikolai's guess was confirmed. Delrico stood there, his men aiming their weapons at Nikolai, ready to strike.

"You didn't think it would end like this, did you?" Delrico sneered, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Nikolai laughed, a mocking grin spreading across his face. "Delrico, I was expecting a real threat, not a circus. Did you bring the clowns to entertain me?" He laughed louder, the sound dripping with scorn and derision.

In the cold room, Cassandra knelt, eyes blurred with tears and body bruised. Blood trickled from her nose.

"Cassandra!" Andrew burst through the door, falling to his knees, tears streaming down his face. This wasn't the first time he'd seen her like this, and the sight of her nakedness only heightened his anguish.

"An..." She barely managed before collapsing into his arms.

Andrew held her close, tears mingling with the blood on her body. "You don't deserve this, Cassandra. No one does."

"Please, Cassandra, open your eyes… baby, please." He laid her gently on the bed and grabbed the first aid kit, his hands trembling as he treated her wounds.

"Oh my God!" he gasped, seeing the whip marks and scars marring her skin.

Anger bubbled inside him as he carefully attended to her injuries. Hours later, he finished cleaning her up, and she slowly opened her eyes, tears still pooling.

"Andrew," she whispered.

"Hey, love, I'm here," he said, cupping her cheek. She managed a weak smile.

"You must be tired of treating my wounds," she said, tears spilling over.

"Yes, but we can leave, Cassandra. You and me, together. I swear I'll protect you. Just say yes, my love!"

"No... this is where I belong. This is my home," she replied, her voice filled with resignation.

"But do they treat you like family?" he yelled. "No father in his right mind would do this to his daughter, his only daughter!"

"That's my life, and I accept it," she said, getting out of bed with a grunt of pain. She dressed slowly, aware of Andrew's silent gaze.

"Father doesn't like it when you're around," she said, her voice strained.

Andrew nodded, understanding, but determination etched in his features. He left the room, heading for his step-brother's office.

"Don!" Andrew stormed in, fists clenched with rage.

"What is it, Andrew? I'm busy. If this is about Cassandra, leave," Don Frederico snapped, barely looking up.

"Why have you chosen to be a monster instead of a father?" Andrew demanded, his voice shaking the room.

Don Frederico leaned back, removing his tobacco pipe, regarding Andrew coolly. "You didn't tell me you had feelings for my daughter."

Andrew sat across from him, trying to steady himself. "Let her go. I'll marry her. He said and Don Frederico slammed his hands on the table.

"Andrew! Don't you dare!" he growled, his eyes darkening as he glared daggers at Andrew.

"How much?"

"How much!?" He repeated, eyebrows narrowing. "Does it look like I'm selling my daughter? And even if I were, you think I'd let my step-brother buy her?"

He stood up, opened his drawer, and pulled out a pistol, aiming it at Andrew. "Killing you right now wouldn't look like murder. I have ways to make it seem like you were depressed and killed yourself. I'd cry with Father at your funeral, become the family's most beloved son, and within a year, you'd be nothing but a photograph." As he spoke, Andrew felt the weight of his words. It struck him deeply, but he was ready to sacrifice himself to set Cassandra free.

"I'm coming back, Frederico. And when I do, you'll pay for your sins, especially for what you've done to Cassandra. I thought you loved Marissa!her mother!" Andrew spat, leaving the office.

Don Frederico rolled his eyes and poured himself a glass of whiskey. "Marissa? Love? You think I don't fucking love her? Come on, i do love Marissa to the point I killed her so she can see the devil!!"