The Devil Who Claimed Me

Chapter 17: Fight for the throne

After Mila left, Dominic’s phone vibrated. Lucas’ name flashed on the screen.

"We can’t keep him," Lucas said as soon as the call was logged in. "Marco is searching for him everywhere. If he finds out the man was taken from the bar, he will suspect something. And we can’t afford that."

Dominic’s jaw clenched and unclenched.

"We can’t delay long," added Lucas worriedly. "We need to kill him."

"I want to interrogate him first."

"But..." Lucas hesitated, wanting to stop him.

"I’m coming," said Dominic, silencing Lucas.

"Alright. Be careful."

The line disconnected.

Dominic put on a hooded jacket, covered the lower half of his face with a mask, and stepped out of the apartment.

Several minutes later...

The warehouse was cold and silent.

The man was tied to a metal chair in the middle of a room, sweat soaking his shirt. The poison Dominic had administered was already working through his veins. It wasn’t killing him, but it was weakening him. The pain was enough to make him wish die quickly.

When he saw Dominic entering, he smirked despite the pain. "You came to see me if I’m still alive," he taunted. "Look at me. I am not dead yet. I’m not afraid either. The pain is only giving me strength to keep protesting you."

"This protest won’t last long if you don’t speak up," Dominic said coldly, standing in front of him. "You need the antidote if you want to live. And I need answers."

The smirk on his face vanished. "I told you everything I know. What else do you want?"

Dominic sat down in a chair across from him. "Who else is with Marco in the syndicate? I want the names."

The man didn’t open his mouth. He only gave him a cold, challenging stare. It was as if he was saying, ’Go to hell.’

That look was enough to make Dominic lose his cool. He shot up to his legs and delivered a sharp punch to his ribs. A sickening crack of bones echoed in the air.

The man doubled over in pain. But when he raised his eyes at Dominic, he started laughing, blood mingling with saliva falling from his mouth.

"You will not leave me alive," he rasped. "Why would I tell you? The moment I talk, I’m dead."

"You are already dead anyway."

The man’s expression changed. The poison was already spreading. He knew he wouldn’t survive. But there was a chance to live if he spoke up. Maybe Dominic would give him the antidote before it was too late.

A hint of hope ignited in his eyes. But a voice from within warned him that a merciless man like Dominic wouldn’t let him survive.

Seeing that he was still silent, Dominic determined to increase the torture. He nodded at Lucas, signaling something.

Lucas understood. He stepped forward silently and adjusted a small device placed near the man’s arm.

"No, don’t," the man cried. He was terrified that the current would pass through him, increasing the intensity of the pain.

Before he could even say another word, a scream escaped his throat. His whole body jolted violently, his teeth colliding, his eyes rolling back to his head.

Dominic raised a hand, and Lucas turned off the device.

The man breathed a deep sigh, his body leaning forward from exhaustion. Sweat dripped down his chin. His body was still trembling from the impact.

Dominic didn’t rush. He casually sat back in the chair and watched the man. It was as if everything was entertaining him.

Minutes passed. When he noticed the man’s breathing evened, he started again, "Who else is involved?"

He was so much in pain that he could barely keep his eyes open. But his determination remained unyielding. He wouldn’t say a word.

His stubborn defiance made Dominic want to break him. He’d like to see how far this guy could tolerate the pain.

Dominic grabbed his hair and forced his head up. "You think Marco will care that you disappeared suddenly. He won’t even remember you. To him, you are nothing but disposable."

A crack appeared in his resolve. He wondered if he should switch his side.

"Answer me, and you will live," Dominic pressed.

The man coughed violently. His endurance eventually shattered. "Marco knew everything," he croaked.

"Knew what?" Dominic growled as he tugged at his hair firmly.

He groaned. "Alejandro’s plan to make you his successor."

Dominic froze, his grip on his hair loosening unconsciously.

"Marco believed he was the rightful heir since he was Alejandro’s nephew, his only blood relative." The words spilled out of his mouth between his labored breaths. He trusted him, devoted him. He thought he would be the next king."

He spat the blood. "But when he found out Alejandro had already chosen you, he couldn’t accept it."

Dominic’s pulse roared in his ears. Marco might have something to do with Alejandro’s death. This thought unsettled him.

And just like that, the man revealed the disturbing fact. "He wanted to eliminate both of you. He joined hands with Victor."

The air suddenly felt colder.

"Last year," the man continued, "the faulty shipment report was fake. It was a trap to lure out Alejandro."

Dominic’s mind went back to the past. One year ago, he had been in Italy when he received the news of Alejadro’s sudden death.

The mafia king had been killed in an unexpected ambush.

Dominic’s fists clenched tightly, his knuckles turning pale. Investigation had revealed Victor’s gang had planned that ambush, but Dominic had always known someone inside had betrayed them and tipped the enemies about Alejandro’s movement. Otherwise, such a precise operation wouldn’t have happened.

Unfortunately, he had not been able to find the traitor. Now, he understood everything.

It had always been Marco.

Dominic’s blood boiled. He was with himself for not finding out the mole sooner. The traitor had been so close, right under his nose. Yet he had not gotten a clue.

Frustrated, he struck the man across his face.

The man laughed through the blood in his mouth. "You were his next target. Marco knew you would never go out without the guards, except when you visit your mother’s grave."

Dominic’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous chillness settling on his face.

"The accident was planned. He tampered with your brake. You are lucky that you survived."

Dominic remembered that night clearly. It was his mother’s death anniversary. Every year, he would visit her without fail.

He had told Marco to oversee things while he was away. He had trusted him.

"Do you think you will live peacefully just because you managed to escape that accident?" the man sneered. "This calm won’t last long. Marco will eventually find out you faked your death. And then you will be gone for good."

His eyes gleamed with madness. "Marco has Victor behind him. Most allies are on his side. The rest won’t dare oppose him."

Dominic’s patience was eroding rapidly, his fists trembling at his sides. At any minute, he could explode.

"He will be the king. And you?" The man grinned, showing his blood-stained teeth. "You will be eliminated sooner or later. You will have a chance to meet your Godfather in hell."

He started laughing like a maniac.

Something inside Dominic snapped. He started punching him mercilessly.

Fury replaced his control. The image of Alejandro’s corpse flashed before him - bloodstained, his body shredded by a storm of thirty-five bullets.

He didn’t stop hitting him even when the man wasn’t moving.

Lucas stepped forward and grabbed his arm. "He is dead."