Chapter 2 02

Michael McIntosh

It was early in the morning, and instead of drinking or smoking as I usually did, I was down in my club's basement, interrogating the bastard who had betrayed our pack. It was exactly seven in the morning.

What the hell, right? That son of a bitch.

I ran my fingers through my hair and took a deep breath, controlling myself as much as I could so I wouldn't kill this asshole. He had always been cold and arrogant, the kind who usually handled the dirty work.

And now he'd done this. Ruined everything, that piece of trash.

I straightened my blood-stained suit, unbuttoning my blazer as I wrapped my tie around my fist. I stepped closer to him, letting a smile, tinged with anger, spread across my lips.

Of course, I didn't want to dirty my hands with this bastard's blood, so I wrapped my tie tightly around my hand to keep punching him without hurting myself. My expression was stern, but my fangs were showing. I wanted to end him, but first, I needed information. As I got closer, the idiot looked at me, his face all battered.

My eyes were dilated with rage, my lips dry; I was holding back from growling and tearing the place apart. I needed information, and for that, I had to keep the traitor alive to make him spill everything he knew.

"You son of a bitch..." I shouted, landing a solid punch to his face, making his head snap to the side. He spat blood on the floor, then turned his face back to me, smirking.

This idiot thinks it's a joke? Why is this fool smiling?

I bit my lip, trying to keep my composure, but it was no use; it was stronger than me. I grabbed his arms tightly and spoke in a harsh voice.

"Who did you tell about the temple's location? ANSWER NOW," I demanded, my voice clear and threatening.

The temple was a sacred place where we gathered annually to discuss important pack matters. And now this idiot had done this-betrayed us, this piece of garbage.

He only tilted his head back to look at me better and kept that disgusting smile on his face, which I loathed.

"Well, you'll never find out, Michael. You can beat me up if you want," he said, starting to cough and spit blood again. His face was bruised and bloody, his mouth, cheek, and clothes stained.

Does this idiot want more of a beating? He won't tell me anything... Oh, he'll regret this, that's for sure.

He kept resisting, and my patience was wearing thin. I landed several more punches to his face, with enough force to feel the impact reverberate through my fists. His head snapped back violently, making him cough and spit even more blood on the floor.

I took a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline pumping, my blood boiling. I wanted to kill this bastard with my claws, my fangs. But I held back, closing my eyes.

I felt the sweat trickle down from my neck to my chest. Damn it, I'm this worked up because of this idiot. I opened my eyes, ready to continue the interrogation and punishments, when I heard a sound.

It was my cell phone.

I rolled my eyes and pulled my phone from my pocket. I looked at the screen, frowning, confused, and irritated. I hesitated to answer, but I figured it might be something important.

"Damn... Now?" I signaled to my subordinates to take the traitor out.

"Yes, sir," one of them said, dragging the idiot away.

I took a deep breath, tossing my blood-stained tie to the ground. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and sat down in a chair, crossing my legs as I did.

I lit a cigarette, took a drag, and answered the call.

"Hello, Mickey!" said a familiar voice on the other end.

So it was him calling... He must be calling from another device, that's gotta be it.

I took another drag from my cigarette, blowing the smoke into the air, and raised my voice with a half-smile.

"Corvo, what do you have for me?" I replied, keeping the conversation coded, as always.

"I found the key to the door you want to open. After all this time, she just appeared, my friend, like magic. Miss Amy Singh," Corvo said.

I uncrossed my legs and sat up straighter, narrowing my eyes in disbelief at his last sentence, but I remained silent, just thoughtful.

He found her? This is simply perfect-some good news, after all.

"I'm listening. How did you find her?" I asked, setting my cigarette aside, focused on his voice.

"Well, she's going through a tough time, desperate for money. Sick mother, late-stage cancer. She's willing to do anything. Got it?" A smile formed on my lips.

This is beyond perfect.

When he said her full name, my eyes widened. I kept smiling and took another drag from my cigarette. I couldn't believe he'd found her after all this time. If it was really her, this woman had been my enemy for years. And the fact that she appeared like this was perfect for me.

The pack has wanted her family out of the game for years. If I can take her family down, I'll be the alpha, I'll have the power I've always craved.

I let the smoke slip from my mouth and replied.

"I'll be her solution-she won't have any options, thanks to her desperation. I'll draft the contract right now. She'll be mine, she'll suffer at my hands. I want to see this woman with my own eyes. She won't refuse what I have to offer her. She'll have more than enough money to help her mother, though she won't have a clue what awaits her. And I... I'll get what I desire most. I'll take down her mother, her, and the rest of her family."

"Alright, Mickey, let me know when everything's ready so I can inform the lady," my friend said.

"Got it. I'll prepare everything. Thanks, Corvo. Later." I hung up, still a bit taken aback by the unexpected conversation.

I still couldn't believe it.

I flicked my cigarette away and stood up from the chair, calling my subordinates.

"What do you need, sir?" my loyal subordinate Alex asked.

"I want you to investigate the Anderson Singh family. I want to know where she and her mother live-everything, got it?" I looked at him seriously, and he just nodded and walked away.

I left the basement and headed up the stairs to the club floor, ready for a drink while I thought things over.