Bloodbound: The Alliance
Chapter 108 - 110

Chapter 108: Chapter 110

Botan POV

"You like that?" I ask, pushing it in deeper. "Be a good boy, and open wider."

He bellows his protest, but the barrel of my gun muffles his swallowed scream.

"Enough of this, Botan," says the leader of Yad Zmei, a harsh hiss, his voice propelled by the plea that underlines his tone like a riptide, pulling him under the weight of his desperation. "I will tell you what you wish to know."

"I knew you would."

I pull the trigger and blood bursts from his skull as brain matter splatter on the earthen wall behind him. He drops like a stone, slumping against the surface with a gaping hole that ripped open his mouth. I straighten away from him—he whose corpse joins the carnage of a dozen men strewn at my feet, littered around the chamber liked a bed of bodies. Their leader dangles in his own torture chamber with his arms splayed like Christ on the cross.

"Gianni," he confesses.

An interval of silence. A long strain of silence that sends a twitch of tension in his elongated limbs, bracing for a lash of outrage, as if anticipating my anger.

"He came to me first," he prompts. "I tell you this not out of fear, but pity. All these lengths for an enemy hidden behind another. Gianni gave me a dossier with intimate intelligence about her—pictures of you and Avara Du Pont. My favourite was your stroll through the French market. I saw what Gianni saw. The wolf’s weakness."

His outline hardens with readiness, almost welcoming something fatal, something final.

Laughter splits the air, loud and unhinged as I throw my head back, receding as I walk away, stepping on and over the remnants of his security team. I exit the chamber and Akio finds his place at my side.

"I didn’t know the fucker had it in him," I say as my laugh fades.

"That was not the reaction I was expecting," he comments slowly.

"And yet, the outcome is the same. For the first time in over a decade, Haru and Alden are united. Alden called a truce, petitioning that we find and kill whoever harmed his daughter. An objective he and I share."

"You think Yad Zmei will forget this?" Akio points out, ever the pragmatist.

"I left their leader alive," I say dismissively.

"They have so many more, all of whom run their own organisations. Gianni we could crush without a second thought. Yad Zmei can match us with equal force. Is she really worth starting a war over?"

I yank his collar to bring him to a jarring halt. "She is worth every river that fills with the blood of those who dared to place danger even near her."

Akio holds onto my gaze with a steel edge. "No matter what you do in her name. Vengeance... retribution. She will never forgive you. Not because of what you did, but who you are—that was what is unchangeable. Everything I admire about you is what she abhors most. I don’t understand how you pine for the love of someone who doesn’t appreciate you for what you are—no matter how dark. Or ugly. True love is to know the best and worst side and love still. She doesn’t."

I shove him out of his grasp. "You still don’t get it. It doesn’t matter if she doesn’t matter iff she claims to not love me—refuses me. Wants no part of me. I cannot take back what I have long since lost ownership over. Each rejection will feed the fire, each refusal will sharpen the ache like a double-bladed sword that will piece us both. If she hates me, I will love her more, if she denies me, I’ll desire her more until her hatred is eclipsed by the truth we both share. She can deny me—not that."

***

The soccer field is teeming with adolescent boys, the ball darting between scrawny legs. The sun beating down fiercely, but that doesn’t deter communal support from fellow pupils and locals alike. The bulk of the bleachers on either side of the stands are brimming with supporters. A cacophony of cheers and zealous shouts meant to spur players on.

I clock the Gianni family with their guard—five men. What fascinates me is only one guard is detailed to him, standing on the flank of the stands by the front lines where he is seated. But the four other security guards are strategically positioned to orbit his wife, a full-bodied woman whose distinct voice rises above the clamour, piercing through the noise like a warhorn.

I move to the stands where Gianni occupies a prime seat with a perfect view of the field. I settle down on the open space beside him. Akio occupies the opposite side, legs spread obnoxiously wide. His guard takes an instinctive step, but Gianni tosses a halting hand as he recedes to his post. He then activates his earpiece, likely informing his comrades of our arrival.

"I suppose you can guess why we’re here?" Akio prompts.

"A few things come to mind," he replies sarcastically.

With my eyes still watching Gianni’s second youngest son, I say, "Jimmy is doing so well," I say with quiet awe. "Good grades and scouted—endorsements lined up all to poach him. I even heard about the two scholarships he was offered. My advice—go with the endorsements. Fast track his career in going pro, get him set up with a decent club. At least that’s what I would do if I had such a son, his talents shouldn’t be wasted behind a desk."

Gianni bristles from the intimate knowledge I have of his son—all of his sons. I have a treasure trove of intelligence on my enemies, rivals and thorns alike. Gianni is a splinter that I need to see cut.

"Haven’t you taken enough sons for me?" he whispers with dread coils tight around his voice.

"Good thing you have five more," I respond with a rumbling laugh. To ease him up, I lift a hand to plant it on his back, but his spine snaps straight from further tension. "You know, seeing your wife and child watched by your men. I saw a glimpse of my own future. Avara and I attending our daughter’s ballet recital, piano performance... our son’s soccer games. Watched by men of my own... a life under a microscope but still a good life. A happy life. Is your family happily?"

He nods eagerly. "My young sons know nothing about what I really do. They think those men are for corporate security."

"Your wife?" I ask.

He pauses, then surrenders a nod. "There’s nothing I keep from her."

"She knows about what you do, and still stayed?" A bitter snort escapes me. "Lucky man."

"Please, don’t hurt my sons. You can do what you want with me—just leave my family out of it."

"Before I came here, I fantasised of all things I would do to you," I say with fatal flirtation, a smile splitting my face as I turn to fix my eyes on him. "Empty your entrails while your bound family can do nothing but watch."

His eyes are frozen on the field. I glance back to see Jimmy distracted by the mysterious men who flank his father. I throw up a friendly wave that he responds with an awkward one. His steps stuttering before he races after the ball again.

"As you seek to protect what’s yours. You came for what is mine," I say as I look back at him again. He evades my gaze like I’m a creature out of a horror film—that one look would have him consumed. "I’m at a loss. Because your actions are understandable. You tried to avenge your son as I would, too. The difference between you and me is that I would’ve done it with my bare hands. I wouldn’t have sent a third party to go do it for me. But that has always been your approach, even in business."

He still studiously averts my gaze. His attention darting desperately between his son and wife.

"I have intelligence agencies, NSA, DEA, FBI, all the big three-letter acronyms. They all have taskforces dedicated to monitor my movements. And even they can’t pin down my locations so precisely. So imagine my surprise, when I learn that not only did you have intel, but high resolution pictures. You would have thought I invited you to photograph us. That’s how pristine those photos were. So how did you, of all people, acquire them? Who did you send because I might need to hire them or kill them."

A thundering cheer erupts as people spurt to their feet. Jimmy’s school scored a goal but Gianni remains deadly still like a prey in nerve-wracking proximity to a predator. I nudge him with my elbow.

"Cheer for your son."

Gianni claps along with stiff hands.

"I didn’t hire anyone," he reveals. "I received that package from an anonymous source."

"Anonymous source?" I repeat with reproachful disbelief.

"We did the dead drop at one of my corporate offices. There are cameras out back—I can get that footage for you."

I lean back, gesturing to the end of the stands at my right. "After you."

"Can I say goodbye to my wife, first?"

"Get the fuck up."

***

The elevator dings open.

Gianni walks out, buttoning his blazer as he strides down with fraudulent composure. We reach the security room and Gianni barges in with Akio and I in tow. Two of them spurt to their feet on impulse but their shoulders slacken from the ease of surprise when they see it’s their boss’s boss’s boss’s—boss.

"Mr Gianni, sir."

"I need to review the security tape. We still have surveillance from six months ago?"

"Yes, sir."

"Run it back and I’ll give you the exact day and time."

The security guards return to their stations. One leans forward, fingers speeding over the console, summoning the surveillance footage. The images flicker and blur as he rewinds through months of recordings. Gianni’s eyes narrow, dissecting each frame with surgical precision. Suddenly, "There," he calls out, halting the playback. The screen freezes, capturing a shadowy figure slipping from an alleyway behind the building.

Akio exhales sharply. My pulse quickens, a cold dread seeping into my veins. The grainy image reveals the unmistakable silhouette of Yakamoto—the Yakuza’s most lethal assassin. His true name is shrouded in secrecy, known only to Haru. Yakamoto, the specter who had sculpted me into who I am under Haru. As a fledgling, I was a pup faced against the wolf who tore the weakness from my bones.

Two truths about Yakamoto: he is never so reckless as to be captured on any surveillance. And secondly, he answers solely to Haru.