Chapter 3 - The Execution
We didn't hide. We stepped out of the closet like the absolute kings of the underworld.
The second guard was standing by my bed, ripping through my nightstand. He barely had time to turn his head before I raised the Glock and put a single, deafening bullet right between his eyes.
The gunshot echoed through the massive estate like a cannon blast.
Marcus, standing near the bedroom doors, physically jumped. He spun around, his arrogant smirk instantly evaporating into absolute, suffocating terror. He looked at the dead man on the floor, then at me, and finally, at the maid standing by my side with a smoking, suppressed pistol.
“Uncle Vincent,” Marcus stammered, his gun shaking in his hand as he backed into the hallway. “Wait, let me explain—"
“You brought armed men into my home,” I said, my voice echoing off the marble walls as I stalked toward him. “You broke my absolute rule twelve years ago. You spilled innocent blood in my name to feed your own ego.”
“She’s lying!” Marcus screamed, his eyes darting frantically to Elena. “She’s a Vargas! She’s a rat! I came here to protect you!”
“I didn't say a word, Marcus,” Elena replied softly.
Marcus froze. He had just convicted himself.
I didn't raise my voice. I didn't need to. The sheer, overwhelming weight of my authority pressed down on him until his knees finally buckled. He dropped his weapon, falling to the floor, exactly where he belonged.
“I gave you everything,” I told him, stepping over his discarded gun. “I gave you money, power, and a seat at the highest table in this city. And you repaid me by turning my legacy into a slaughterhouse.”
“Please,” Marcus sobbed, clutching at the fabric of my trousers. “I’m your blood! I’m family!”
I looked down at the boy I had raised. Then, I stepped back and looked at the woman who had protected my life despite having every reason to take it.
May you like
“Family is earned, Marcus,” I said coldly. “Not inherited.”
I turned my back to him and nodded at Elena.
