1 The Devil's Return

A penny for the troubles.

A hug for the pain.

Love for the broken heart.

Guns for friends.

And a bullet for the enemy.

That's the only way a Mafia should live.

Kneeling on the lonely London bridge, gray broken clouds covering the sky and raindrops trickling down like falling pins, pricking away at his soul, Thomas looked down the bridge.

The distance between him and the ground was enough to leave his bone completely crushed, and his head a messy bloodwork of the ground beneath if he as much as dropped from the spot, but none of that scared him like the folks holding a gun to his head.

He had been in this situation far too many times than he could remember, but for some reason today felt different, possibly because, he was the one having a gun pointed at his head. What a mockery of nature!

He rubbed his clammy hands together to ease the anxiety and tension he has about his fate.

"Calm down," he softly muttered under his breath as he peered down the bridge once more.

"Be fucking calm." He muttered again to himself, but this time a little more loudly than before, but that also didn't seem to work. The more he spoke, the more he felt the cold chill run down his spine.

"Shut the fuck up, you bitch!" An angry voice bellowed at him, and it stung to realize that it belonged to the lady pressing the barrel of the gun to his head. Her body was fully clad in black, just like the jet-black hair dancing behind her head.

Thomas winced and felt the sharp pain surge through his head when the lady hit him with her gun.

'Life was ironic. One day, one was in control, and the next day, fretfully standing at the brink of death.'

"Calm down, Roxie! Go easy on him." The other gang member Viper, quickly intervened, placing a lit cigarette in between Thomas's lips, and continued. "He left strict orders, he will handle him personally."

"When will he be coming?" Roxie inquired with a snarl.

"Anytime he wants Rox! Our job is to wait here until he comes."

'He?' Thomas mused, his brows slightly furrowed.

"Who?" Thomas asked confusedly, not sure who they were talking about.

But immediately he asked, Roxie's fist swung to his face. "I told you to shut the fuck up, you bitch!" She screamed at him, her coarse voice sending a ripple through Thomas's spine.

The situation still felt like a dream to Thomas. Here he was standing at the London bridge deck, begging for his life and being scared like he has never been before.

With every drag of the cigarette, he felt brief pain on his lips which was from the heavy blow he had received from Roxie. He had a feeling about what this was all about, and if his thoughts were true then he had no regrets.

'If given a chance I would do it again.' He reasoned to himself. In this world he belonged, there was no room for regrets.

"The beast deserved it!" He inaudibly muttered.

A car drove slowly down the bridge which was empty by this time of the day. Thanks to the likes of him.

Thomas keenly observed as a young man stepped out from the car, looking frightened like he has seen a ghost.

"The new Don is here," he whispered to Viper, and immediately, two men alighted the vehicle and strutted towards them.

They were both dressed in black, but there was something about the first man that terrified Thomas. His flowing black coat and hat did nothing to hide his handsomeness, but his dead grey looked nothing short of the devil's crawling from the bowels of hellfire.

There was something about this man, but Thomas could not place his fingers on as he approached them.

Thomas felt his heart beat faster as though the devil was coming for him, as the mad drew closer. Thomas didn't know what his fate holds, but from the chill and deathly aura he could feel, he knew his fate has been kissed by the banshees in the fantasy tales he has been told as a child.

'Will he be able to escape this situation unshattered?'

'Will he be able to go back home to his beautiful wife and kid today?' Thomas shivered at those thoughts in his head.

"Thomas Wesley!" A dreadful voice called his name, and Thomas snapped his head, knowing fully well that was the devil's call.

Cold sweat broke all around him, at the sound of that voice. Thomas instantly felt terrified to his bones as realization hit him.

'Fuck! What in the name of the devil!'

"R..Ra.." Thomas stuttered unable to speak his name through his lips.

He was standing face to face with the King of West London. Face to face with the new Wesley's Don. Thomas shivered in trepidation. He has never been more scared all his life. He felt hot fluid wet his pant, and in the face of the devil, he had no time to be embarrassed.

"Y...You are..alive". Thomas stuttered in shock and fear. His heart thumped so hard, he felt he'd die of a heart attack.

"You are supposed to be dead." His voice barely rose above a whisper as he muttered in disbelief.

He got a grip of himself and raised his head to the man that his life was now at his mercy. "Everyone thinks you are dead." He said. "So, You've been alive all this while? Why the hell are you showing up now?!" Thomas yelled, his boldness tilting a bit higher, but it quickly slipped away like sand when the new Don slowly stalked toward him.

Thomas gasped when the man suddenly grasped his neck tightly and said, "My time has only come. And now my watch has begun!" He drawled, his voice so dark and cold like he was speaking from an abyss.

Just as he said those words, he threw Thomas to the ground who hastily stood up despite the pain coursing through his limbs.

"I guess that is why you killed him. You fuckers thought I was dead and everything would then be yours?" The Don asked slowly and gave a bitter laugh.

The other man with the new Don whispered something to his ear as though to inform him of something. The Don kept an expressionless face and he kept his gaze unwavering from Thomas.

Thomas frighteningly looked into the eyes of the new Don. These were the eyes of a man who had seen the dippest part of hell. Just a look into The Don's eyes and he knew his fate already.

Thomas watched as he nodded briefly at the man who seemed to have given the devil some valuable information, before turning back to Thomas who stiffened at the sight of his eyes.

"Do you have any last wishes, my dear Cousin, Thomas?" Were the next words that slipped out of The Don's mouth.

Thomas stood speechless. He couldn't find any words. With shaking hands he reached for his pocket to take out a piece of folded paper before reaching for his cross pendant necklace and placing them into the outstretched hand of the new Don. He whispered, "keep it for my daughter Zara, protect her and her mother."

"Consider it done." The Don said as he tucked the necklace and the piece of folded paper into his suit. "The Wesleys no longer need you. Send my respect to Uncle Vadaly when you get to hell." Thomas heard the new Don say as he lifted his SW Model 29 handgun to his face.

He heard shots fired at him. Each shot shifted him to the edge of the bridge and the last shot sent him falling like a leaf.

As he fell over, he felt some sense of relief. He felt he finally escaped from this hellish world, he could now rest In peace in hell, because heaven was no place for a man like him, and neither was it for the man who had just given him his recompense. But then again one thought crossed his mind.

'What will become of London's underworld, now that the Devil has been brought from hell to the city?'

'No one will escape his return. No one could overturn or tame Ralph Wesley. For he was the devil himself.'