Chapter 4 Suck my.....

Vincent's wide grey eyes gleamed with childlike curiosity as his tiny hands gently rested on his mother's swollen belly. "She is going to be big like me when she is born?" he inquired in a gentle and upbeat tone.

His mother smiled, gently brushing her hand through his hair. "No, darling... she'll be very small at first."

Vincent frowned, his young mind struggling to grasp the concept. "So how would I play with her then?" The corners of his mouth turned down in frustration, and his scowl deepened.

His mother laughed and caressed his hair, her voice warm and comforting. "She'll grow, baby. Just like you did."

Vincent's eyes shifted to his mother's protruding belly, and his tiny fingers followed its curve in fascination. His mother had told him that babies were sent from heaven, but he had always wondered where they came from. But his curiosity was unquenchable now that he was expecting a new sibling.

"How is she going to come out from your stomach?" he asked, his big questioning eyes meeting hers.

His mother paused for a moment before offering a gentle explanation. "Alright, I will head to the hospital, where the medical professionals will assist in bringing her out."

Shock spread across Vincent's eyes. "Is it going to hurt?" he asked in a worried tone.

"Up to a point," his mother reassuringly acknowledged. "But I'll bear it, just like I did when you were born."

Vincent smiled, admiration shining in his eyes. "You're like Superman then," he murmured, causing his mother to burst out laughing, her laughter filling the room with warmth.

"Time to sleep, baby," she said softly, the laughter fading into a tender command.

"Alright, Mother," Vincent answered, laying his head on her breast in search of the safety and comfort he consistently discovered there. He was a mama's boy at heart, content to listen to the steady beat of her heart.

"Sleep, baby," she whispered as she continued to stroke his hair. Sinking deeper into her embrace, he took a closer look at her.

"I love you," she murmured, her voice full of motherly affection.

"I love you too, Mom," Vincent said, sounding satisfied and sleepy as he eventually fell asleep and dreamed of his mother's safety and warmth.

~~

Startled, Vincent felt a jolt in his little chest upon waking. A loud bang echoed through the house, shattering the quiet stillness of the night. His young mind racing with fear and confusion, he sat up quickly. "Mom?" he cried, his voice wavering in the darkness. But nobody answered.

Panic shot through him as he scampered out of bed, his feet barely touching the floor as he hurried to the door. His own heart hammered itself to silence in the dark hallway. "Mom?" he cried out once more, his voice hardly audible above a whisper. There was still no response.

Vincent crept down the stairs, the darkness closing in on him. His breath caught as he approached the bottom. There, in the living room's low light, he saw them: five black-clad men, each with a gun in his hand.

His body trembling with terror, he quickly ducked behind the dining table as fear took hold of him. His eyes, wide with fear, darted all over the room until they settled on his mother. She was on the ground, her hand clutching her stomach as blood began to pool around her. With a gasp, Vincent covered his mouth with his small hands to contain the cry that was about to burst out.

Who were these men? Why was his mother on the ground? Though his limited understanding prevented him from fully understanding what was happening, he knew it was terrible-very bad. His eyes strayed to his father, who was also lying on the ground, his body limp and lifeless. Sitting next to him, with her eyes closed as though she was sleeping, Vincent's older sister was not actually sleeping but dead.

"You kept me waiting even after I gave you two years to pay your debt," one of the men, who was standing over Vincent's father, said in a harsh and cold tone. The words caused Vincent to shiver down his spine. He could not understand the debt the man was talking about, but he could feel the threat in his voice.

Vincent looked out from behind the table, making an effort to say nothing. It hurt to feel his little heart pounding so hard. One of the men shifted abruptly, revealing his face through the slipping mask. Fear gripping him, Vincent stared, wide eyes fixed on the man's features, committing them to memory. Vincent had already noticed the man as he quickly adjusted his mask.

After what seemed like an eternity, the men finally left, their heavy footsteps echoing through the night. With a shiver running down his spine, Vincent waited until he was positive they had disappeared. He then fled from his hiding place to his mother, tears running down his cheeks.

"Mom!" he exclaimed, falling to his knees at her feet. He reached out and touched her face with trembling hands. "Please wake up, mom!"

His mother's eyes fluttered open and she shot him a sad, hurtful look. "Vincent," she said in a voice that was hardly audible. Her hand trembled as she reached out and touched his face.

Vincent cried and gripped her hand, pleading, "Mom, please do not leave me." "Please, don't leave."

Her breathing was labored, and Vincent could see the life leaving her. "Listen to me, baby," she said, her voice barely registering a breath. "You need to call... your uncle. Tell him... to come and get you."

Vincent nodded, eyes clouded by tears. Feeling his mother's light slowly go out, he sobbed, his heart breaking. "But I do not want to leave you."

"You have to... be strong, Vincent," she whispered, removing her hand from his cheek. "I love you... so much."

"Mom, please," Vincent begged, his voice shaking. But it was too late. Her gaze was fixed on the darkness as her hand went limp. She was gone.

Vincent collapsed on top of her, his small body filled with sobs. He cried until his throat ached, his heart broken by the loss of his family. He would seen too much, too quickly, and he knew his life would never be the same.

~~

Vincent grinned more broadly as he studied the collection of firearms in front of him. His eyes gleamed with a dangerous excitement that sent a shiver through the room.

"This one runs faster, boss," Lipari said, handing Vincent a sleek, polished gun.

Vincent took it, running his fingers along the cool metal with an appreciative nod. "I like the texture," he said, taking a deep breath and bringing the gun closer to his nose. A low chuckle escaped his chest. "Surprisingly smells good too."

His men exchanged glances, chuckling along with him, but there was a nervous edge to their laughter. They knew better than to misread Vincent's mood.

"I like it," Vincent repeated, his grin growing more menacing by the second. The room fell silent, waiting for his next move.

"Boss," Bellamy said as he entered the room, his tone cautious but laced with urgency.

Vincent's smile widened even more. He loved it when Bellamy entered the room-it meant news, and Vincent had a particular fondness for news, whether good or bad.

"What's the news, Bellamy?" Vincent asked, his eyes not leaving the gun in his hand.

Bellamy hesitated for a fraction of a second. "Your uncle is pissed," he began, but Vincent held up a hand to stop him.

"I'll correct you for the last time, Bellamy," Vincent said, his voice dangerously soft.

Bellamy's head bowed slightly in submission. "I'm sorry, boss," he murmured.

"Adone is pissed, and he said he's going to come for you," Bellamy corrected himself, his voice firmer now.

Vincent burst out laughing, the sound echoing off the walls. It was a laugh devoid of any real humor, chilling in its intensity. "He should come," Vincent said, still laughing. "I'm going to teach him a lesson."

He sighed contentedly as if the thought of dealing with Adone brought him a deep sense of pleasure. His eyes drifted back to Lipari.

"Lipari," he called.

"Yes, boss?" Lipari responded immediately, his posture straightening.

"Give me Miss Escobar's location," Vincent said, his smirk widening into something darker, more dangerous. "I would love to see my pet."

~~

Vincent sat in the VIP section of the club, his mood darkening with every passing second. The low lighting and pounding music did nothing to stop the irritation that was growing inside of him. Women flocked to him, attempting to get his attention, but he hardly gave them a sidelong glance. One particularly brave girl reached out to grab hold of him, and his smile cooled.

"Touch me, and I'll shoot you," he said, his voice laced with a dangerous calm. The girl recoiled instantly, backing away with wide eyes.

Vincent waved a hand dismissively, signaling one of his men. "Send for Miss Escobar," he ordered, his gaze narrowing as he watched his man approach Eloise across the room. He could see the resistance in her body language, the way she stiffened and tried to argue, but eventually, she relented.

When she finally appeared before him, Vincent's smile widened at her obvious discomfort, a thrill of amusement coursing through him as she glared at him with fiery defiance.

"Can you leave me alone?" Eloise demanded, her voice sharp with irritation.

Vincent chuckled, enjoying her frustration. "You're bipolar," she shot at him, clearly hoping to provoke some sort of reaction. But her words only made him laugh harder, the sound rich with condescension.

"Come sit here, Miss Escobar," he said, gesturing to the seat beside him. Her frown deepened in response.

"It's Eloise," she corrected him, her tone dripping with annoyance.

His laughter stopped abruptly, his eyes darkening. "Do not make me repeat myself, Miss Escobar," he said, his smile remaining but with a menacing edge that made her hesitate. Hesitantly, she took a seat next to him, her tense posture showing.

"I am so going to tell my Daddy about all this," she whispered, her voice full of rage and frustration at the same time.

Vincent chuckled again, shaking his head. "You always seem to amuse me, Princessa," he said, his tone mocking.

"Don't call me that," she snapped, her eyes blazing with indignation.

Vincent leaned closer, his smile widening into a smirk. "Hm... So what are you going to offer, now that you're privileged to be my pet?" he asked, his voice silky smooth.

"Nothing," she replied, her defiance unwavering despite the unease flickering in her eyes.

His laugh was slow, calculated, as he held her gaze. "What if..." he began, his voice dropping to a low, almost predatory tone, "What if you suck my dick now?"

TBC