Chapter CHAPTER LXVIII
"It's not in my dictionary, Mirza. Too bad," Chase stared at another guard. "You- get me ropes from wherever you keep them. Get diesel and a lighter. My lighter is too precious to be used on cowards,"
The guard didn't move. Doing what Chase asked of him would lead to his death. Not doing it would also lead to his death.
"Are you deaf?" Chase snarled at the guard. "Go get what I asked of you or get ready to join your friends,"
The man scurried away as well.
Soon, he was back with ropes, a gallon of diesel and lighter in his hands, shaking like a chicken beaten by the rain.
"Tie the five of them up," He motioned towards the five men who assaulted Saige. "Tie them up!"
The guard tied them up, ignoring their cries and pleadings.
"Open the gallon and empty the diesel on them," Chase ordered. When the man did so, Chase pointed at the lighter on the ground. "Pick it up. Switch it on and set them ablaze. They should be grateful I'm offering them a peaceful death. If I had the fucking time, I'd torture them so much they would prefer to be set on fire. Now do it. No complaints,"
In five minutes, those five men were on fire, screaming for their lives as the smell of burnt flesh consumed the whole room.
Chase tapped on the hearing device on his ear. "Entra e prendi gli uomini rimasti. Dovrebbero morire tutti a causa di un'esplosione all'interno del loro camion più grande di fronte all'edificio,"
{"Come in and take the remaining men. They should all die from an explosion inside their largest truck in front of the building."}
"Don't do this, please, Romano," Mirza pleaded. "Don't do what you're planning on doing, please,"
Chase ignored him.
Not up to ten minutes later, Lucas and Luciano were barging into the building with their armed men, dragging all of Mirza's men. They were all loaded inside their largest truck as Chase ordered. Before a minute passed, there was an explosion. All of Mirza's men were dead.
Chase leaned in to whisper in Mirza's ear. "You hear that? The bomb went off. Your men are gone. Your empire has been destroyed because of one silly mistake you made," Chase chuckled, dragging the old man with him. Outside his mansion, there was an empty private jet.
"Please spare my life, Romano," Mirza pleaded. "Please don't do this to me,"
Chase motioned for his men to take Mirza. As instructed, they tied his hands and legs to his back and pushed him inside the jet.
Chase stared at Luciano. "È stato tutto impostato?"
{"Has everything been set?"}
Luciano nodded. "Sì, Don. Il jet è stato impostato in modalità automatica e si schianterà direttamente nell'oceano che hai richiesto. Una volta che si schianterà lì, il corpo di Mirza non verrà nemmeno trovato."
{"Yes, Don. The jet has been set to automatic, and directly to crash in the ocean you asked for. Once it crashes there, Mirza's body won't even be found."}
Mirza didn't understand Italian. The grin on the three Romano men's faces had dread settling in his stomach. He didn't know where he was being taken to. He didn't know how he would end up.
Before he could open his mouth to beg, a duct tape was used to seal his lips so he wouldn't be able to speak for the time being.
Chase took slow, predatory steps towards the jet, staring into Mirza's scared eyes. That was the type of look he lived for. The look of fear in people's eyes made him feel proud. A proud smirk appeared on his lips the minute he remembered how he had taken away his uncle's life. His uncle made life hell for him. He tormented him and his ways of training have affected his mental health, Chase knew that.
It was nice seeing his uncle's friends who encouraged that he be trained that way be killed with his own hands. It brought a different type of joy and comfortable feeling to his heart. His uncle and friends made him the monster he was. That same monster was the one that had destroyed them all, starting from his uncle, then his other friends.
Mirza was the second to the last on the list.
Chase had been patiently waiting for an opportunity to end Mirza and his empire. He had to thank the heavens and his lucky stars for making Mirza do what he did the previous night. If Mirza hadn't made that move, Chase wasn't sure of when he'd have found a chance to bring him to his downfall.
Chase stared into Mirza's eyes, not blinking his eyes for once. "I want to send you to someone dear to me," Chase said, his voice dead. "Tell him he should be proud of his nephew. Tell your friend that I'm doing a good job at keeping the empire running and destroying those who want it ruined. Tell him I still see him in my sleep every night because he hasn't ever left my head. Tell him he evades every second of my thoughts and I still have his words reversing their selves like gold on my palm whenever I make decisions. Tell him I've never forgotten him for a second and that I hope he reciprocates how I feel. Tell him I love him but I don't regret cutting him off from life because that was the only way to stop him from fucking up his three children as he did to me and my sanity," Chase always recited these particular verses to all his uncle's friends that he made sure he murdered. It was Mirza's time. Chase leaned in and pulled off the tape from Mirza's lips with a harsh tug, making the man wince.
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"Cha-,"
"No matter how you scream, Mirza, no one will hear you. Send my regards to my uncle and don't forget to tell him I really expect him to be proud of me. If my messages aren't delivered, I'll hunt you down even in death. We'll continue from where we stopped in hell," Chase pressed a button and the doors of the jet closed slowly. Just before it could close completely, Chase mouthed to Mirza. "Bye,"
Once the jet was locked completely, Luciano pressed a button on a remote and the jet took off, leaving them all there, staring at the jet flying off.
He then nodded his head to Lucas. "Wipe off anyone related to Mirza from the face of earth,"
The cracking sounds of things burning and the smell of fire reached Chase's ears and nose.
Mirza's house had been set up in flames.
Nine people down; Chase's Uncle-Antonio Romano- and his eight friends. One more person left.
Just one person left and everything will be over.
Pietro Romano. His coward of a father.