1

Harry johnson was feeling bored.

He was negligently sitting on his chair like a King, enjoying his expensive red wine, tasting the sweet, spicy and rich texture of the drink. His throat worked for a gulp as he hummed under his breath in sheer satisfaction when the liquid hit his tastebuds. Softly, his index tapping the cognac glass. The groans and painful grunts swirled in the toxic air yet it seemed like that it didn't affect his serene mood. The mob boss was avoiding the male figure who was kneeling infront of him, moaning in pain, crying and trembling in sheer terror.

The male tried to wriggle his hands to break free, but the shining handcuffs prevented him. He was defenseless, tears streamed down his cheeks, pricking his fresh wounds. His face that was once was handsome and young was now filled with ugly bruises, his left eye was swollen with the injury that Harry's men had caused, he couldn't look anything clearly, yet he could glimpse at the boots gleaming the dripping chandelier.

"Oh man, you look so horrible."A taunting sneer from the mafia boss shrank the male on his place in sheer panic, his heart tumbled in his stomach.

Harry placed his glass on the side table and sat up. The black suit gracefully clasped around his imperial body, the fabric tightened around his triceps and taut chest as he bottomed up his suit in a swift way. The clicking sound of his boots was as dominant as his personality as he walked toward the busted man.

"Horrible and useless and a fucking disposal, how unfortunate." A crude chuckle escaped through his ruddy, lush mouth as he narrowed his eyes, scanning the trembling male through the thick slits. His inky, deep eyes soldered at him, a deviant glint in his iris as if a hungry predator was ready to consume his prey most ominously.

"P-please L-let me go" The man pleaded in his low and shaky voice, his jaw throbbed. A yelp left his mouth when Harry harshly grabbed his hair and pulled it back, his face arched up to greet a wide grin, the mere expression of Harry's downright eminence and enormity.

The male eyes broadened, a termor shot through the length of his spine. He wasn't stupid, he was aware that he shouldn't trust Harry's smile. Because maybe his smile looked charming but in reality, it wasn't.

Harry johnson is a monster, made of blood and flesh.

"I must say your fresh blood looks good on you."Harry sneered, voice raspy as a grimace settled between his brows." But I dont want to make my carpet dirty, it's expensive."With a harsh jerk, he let go of his hair. Again, that man's gazejoins the floor.

Harry gazed at him, enjoying his suffering and agony. Those inky pair of eyes were detached from any emotion, there was no regret, no remorse, no mercy, nothing just hatred. Sometimes, he considered himslef empty. The suffering man appeared so pathetic and weak in his eyes--weak people didn't interest him.

Harry had never trusted the word mercy as he didn't have this shit running in his veins too. In fact, for him mercy was the main root of the drew back of any human, mercy was useless for him. Weak, oh how much he loathed this word, it physically sickened him.

Harry would never tolerate himself getting-vulnerable or weak under any circumstances, he would never let that day come. He was meant to hold his head high, he wasn't meant to bow. Harry was not an ordinary man who was running after power. He was a mafia leader, heading the illegal business, controlling the underground and dominating over his sorded kingdom, his name hold power and respect.

He wad the only heir of the Johnson's family. After his parents death, he was the person who takes his father's place amd position. He proved every person wrong who had doubted him and taunted his potential. He was a man who was just 23 years old, they said he was too young. They said he would easily crumble beneath the enormous responsibilities. They said he was just a lad, a spoiled, young brat. Sure, leading a mafia wasn't an easy game, but noe the entire mafia organization leads his mind and trembled by his name.

Those people who had dishonored him now buried ten feet under ground amd some who were smart enough to take his side were now grazing in sheer admiration and fear.

He was born to rule the world and able to make the world shake at his fingertips. Destruction was the correct word for him.

"I have a wife and a daughter, I have a family, please." The male pleaded, the blood oozing out his splitting lips as he swallowed in urgency. Harry rasped a low laugh, shoving his hand in his pocket, he jutted his chin out and gazed at the male through the pointed slipe of his nose, those inky eyes twinkling in resentment.

"They are waiting for me."He managed to complete his word without tremor. He cried out, hoping that maybe Harry would grant him a little ounce of pity. The helpless man wishes that maybe his word could affect Harry, his expectations were too high. Unfortunately he was completely, utterly and devastatingly wrong. Pity, the word was not in Harry johnson's dictionary, the mob boss resisted an urge to bark a laugh at the male.

"You betrayed me first and now you are expecting sympathy from me?" Harry rolled his eyes, his ruddy lips pulling for a wolfish smirk as he bent down to lean at the male's face.

"Young man, dont worry about them."Harry whispered oh-so-lowly, a wicked hint un his husky voice.

" I will take care of your little, cute family, especially your wife when she will be alone in her bed, missing you with her lone tears. Dont worry I'll be with her to wipe her tears. Trust me, I'll get rid of her sadness and not gonna lie but she will love every second of my company.... Beneath me. Women easily get charmed by me." Harry's smirk grew wider, he let out a mocking whistle when the man tried attacking him but got controlled when a bulky gaurd yanked him and shoved him om the ground.

" You fucker!" Gathering a tiny bit of energy, he spat in welled up rage." Dont you dare touch my wife!" The man's blood boiled, he grunted when his face smashed the ground, his eyes darting to glare at Harry who carelessly placed his boot on the side of his temple.