Chapter 37: No More Talk?

Chapter 37 - No More Talk?As Charlotte slowly walked away with the guard, James laughter grew more intense, the kind of laugh that told you, without a doubt, that you had just fucked up. Bella and Hector knew this laugh all too well. It was the laugh of the Angel of Death. But the men standing before him? They knew nothing. "Are you fucking stupid?" The man snapped, his face twisted with anger. "I want the damn fifty grand right now!" He shouted as if his words actually meant something. James continued laughing, stepping closer and closer, his eyes locked onto the man's. Then, his gaze shifted to the others standing behind him. "You want fifty grand?" He asked, his voice calm, too calm. "Yes." "Or?" James asked back, staring at him, smiling, like he was waiting for the answer, dying to hear it. "I kill you and that little girl..." The man whispered. James laughed again, turning back to look at Hector and Bella, but their faces were anything but amused. They avoided his gaze because what lurked in James eyes was something otherworldly. "Did everyone hear that?" James asked, his voice disturbingly casual. "You came bitching about fifty grand?" He turned back to the man, his smile gone. "For fifty grand, you came here to threaten me and my daughter?" His voice dropped lower. The laughter stopped. The man stepped even closer, their faces almost touching. His breath reeked of arrogance, of someone who thought he had the upper hand. "Yes." He said, his voice firm. And he had no idea he had just sealed his fate. Beacuse James may not have been born a murderer or a maniac, but one thing mattered more than anything else, his family. And for them, he would burn the whole city to the ground. For a second, silence. Then James smiled. And suddenly a right hook landed on the man's jaw, sending him to the ground. His men reached for their guns, until they realized something. They were completely fucked. Not a single one of James men moved for their weapons. They just stood there, watching. Waiting. James stepped over him, grabbed his hair, and yanked him up . The man groaned, dazed, his eyes unfocused. Before he could even process what was happening. CRACK! James slammed his face into the side mirror of a nearby car. The glass exploded into shards and blood smeared across the fractured surface as the man slumped against the car. But James wasn't done. He leaned down, picked up the broken mirror and started slamming it to the man's head. "I make hundreds of millions." Another blow. The man's nose burst open, blood gushing out. "And you—" SLAM "—came here—" SLAM "—bitching about fifty—" SLAM "—fucking—" SLAM "—thousand?!" The mirror finally broke to pieces as it impacted the man's head. "And then—" James' voice dropped to a whisper, his fingers tightening around the man's throat, suffocating him. "You threatened my daughter?" He stared at his broken face, his eye rolling back as he fought for his life and reached for his gun, but then a voice cut through the silence. "Stop!" He barely looked up, and the man who shouted was none other than Takoi Mario, the Mayor candidate, holding a phone in his hand. James released his grip on the unconscious man, letting him slump to the ground. His entire body was covered in blood, his face, his hands. Slowly, he looked at Takoi, who was walking toward him. To Takoi, James was just another piece of trash, nothing more than a lowly thug born from a woman who should have never given him life. "Look at you!" Takoi sneered, waving his phone slightly, as if he was debating whether to make a call. "Nothing more than another piece of shit carried out by a whore." He made his first big mistake, James emotions were already through the roof adn he just added to it calling his mother that word. He smirked, lifting his phone. "See, I could make one call right now, and you'd be nothing but a tragic story. Another arrogant thug!" Slowly, james he wiped the blood from his hands onto his suit, completely unfazed. His expression was unreadable, but something about his presence shifted. Even Bella and Hector took a step back. Then, he spoke. "Is that so?" His voice was calm. Takoi smirked. "Yeah, that's so. You're just another dog. And dogs don't rule this city." He smirk barely had time to fade before James lunged forward, slamming his forehead straight into Takoi's nose with a sickening crack. The so-called future Mayor stumbled backward, his perfectly styled hair now a mess, his hands flying up to his face as blood poured from his nose. His phone slipped from his grasp, clattering uselessly onto the pavement. James didn't hesitate. He stepped over Takoi like he was nothing, grabbing the man's fallen glasses in one hand before gripping his collar with the other. Without a second thought, he slammed his fist straight into Takoi's face. And then he did it again. And again. Takoi's expensive suit was now stained with his own blood as James delivered another blow. His head snapped back, eyes rolling slightly before refocusing, just in time to see James raising his fist once more. "You talk too much." He hit his face agaiin blood splattering across the road. Takoi, who had been so sure of his power, was now barely conscious, his face unrecognizable. James finally stopped. Then, crouching down, he grabbed Takoi's bloodied face, forcing him to look him in the eyes. "Dogs don't rule this city?" James repeated, his voice low, almost mocking. He smirked. "Then why is it that every time I show up... men like you start barking?" Takoi didn't respond. He couldn't. His once-proud, arrogant face was now just a swollen, bloodied mess a mere remnant of what it had been just seconds ago. He patted Takoi's bruised cheek almost mockingly. "What? No more speeches?" His voice was low, dripping with amusement. "No more lectures about men like me?" He barely managed a gurgled sound. James sighed. "That's what I thought." Then, he noticed a crowd had formed around them, and in the midst of it stood Silas Ricci He stood frozen, his grip tightening around his walking stick. The weight of James Bellini's gaze felt suffocating, as if he were staring into the abyss itself. James exhaled sharply, his bloodied hands flexing as he slowly turned his head, scanning the silent crowd. "Anybody else?" His voice was calm, almost casual. "Because my daughter is waiting for me." Silence. No one spoke. Silas, felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation creeping into his chest. Fear. Without another glance, he turned his back to them, walking toward the car where Charlotte waited. Hector and Bella followed, but not before giving one last look at the frozen men, silently daring them to move. They didn't. As James sat into the car, his body covered in blood, Charlotte sat stiffly in her seat, her small hands gripping the edge of her dress so tightly her knuckles turned white. The metallic scent of blood filled the space, overwhelming her senses. She wanted to speak, to say something, but the words were trapped in her throat. Instead, she stared at his face, at his hands, at the deep red stains soaking through his clothes. James didn't say a word. He leaned back against the seat, his breathing heavy, his gaze distant. Charlotte swallowed hard. Her tiny fingers twitched before she hesitantly reached into her pocket and pulled out a small pack of tissues. Slowly, she held it out, her arm trembling. seaʀᴄh thё Nôvel(F)ire.ηet website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality. James glanced at her. For a moment, he just stared at the tissues in her hand, then at her face. She wasn't crying. But her lips were pressed together, and her eyes those wide, innocent eyes were filled with something he couldn't quite place. Was it fear? Worry? Or was she simply trying to understand the monster sitting beside her? James took a deep breath, then reached out, taking the tissues from her with his bloodstained fingers. "Thanks, kid." She didn't respond. She just turned her head toward the window, her reflection staring back at her. Charlotte didn't know what scared her more, the blood covering James... or the fact that a part of her wasn't afraid of him at all. What have I done? His breath was slow, controlled, too controlled. He wasn't panicking. No, panic would mean regret. Would mean guilt. But all he felt was... nothing. The man had deserved it. That much he knew. The moment James laid his hands on him, it wasn't a fight, it was a sentence being carried out. A punishment written in blood. But then he remembered her. Charlotte had seen it. James clenched his jaw. Damn it. She had seen him. Not the man who took her hand when she was scared. Not the one who lifted her up so she could reach the cookies on the top shelf. She had seen this. He tried to tell himself it didn't matter. That she was just a kid, that she didn't understand what she saw. But he knew better. Charlotte wasn't stupid. And she wasn't blind. He had done it. He had snapped. The second they spoke Charlotte's name, the second they dared to bring his mother into it, they had sealed their own fate. But deep down, that wasn't the whole truth, was it? Would he have stopped even if they had begged? Even if they had taken it back? Would he have been able to pull himself back from that edge, or had he already decided the moment he walked in there? The worst part wasn't the blood. It was the fact that, for a split second....he had enjoyed it. And this was just the beginning, something that would bring more blood and shake the city to its core.