Chapter 14: Chapter 14

Ding!

The oven’s sharp chime cut through the tense silence, the rich aroma of melted cheese and spiced beef wafting from the kitchen. Jason opened the oven door, the heat washing over his face as he pulled out the sizzling pizza, its crust golden and crisp. “Pizza’s ready,” He said, his voice calm but edged with menace. “While I eat, go say goodbye to Lisa and the kids. And put on that Armani suit.”

Paul’s head snapped up, his tear-streaked face etched with surprise. In his six years under Jason’s command, he’d never known the man to show mercy or sentiment. ’Is this a trick?’ he wondered, his heart pounding. Jason slid on a pair of heat-resistant gloves, setting the tray on the counter with a faint clatter. “You’ve been with me for six years. I want you to go out with some dignity.”

Paul’s throat tightened, a mix of gratitude and dread. “Thank you,” He whispered, wiping his eyes and shuffling toward the bedroom, his steps heavy with the weight of his fate.

Jason watched him go, a cold smirk curling his lips as he tore into a slice of pizza, the tangy sauce and molten cheese a fleeting comfort. ’Go on, Paul. Your family will give you the courage to face what’s coming.’ The thought was laced with mockery, his heart hardened against the man who’d sold him out.

—

In the bedroom, the air was warm and soft, scented with baby powder and lavender. Lisa leaned over the crib, humming a gentle lullaby, her voice a soothing contrast to the storm outside. The twins slept soundly, their tiny mouths smacking contentedly. Paul sank onto the bed, his eyes tracing their delicate features—their button noses, the faint curls of hair. Regret and sorrow twisted in his chest, a bitter ache for the life he was about to lose.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Lisa’s voice was soft, her brow furrowing as she caught the anguish in his eyes.

Paul forced a smile, his large hand gently brushing one of the twins’ heads, the warmth of their skin grounding him. “Nothing. I’ve got to step out with the boss for a job.”

“Is it dangerous?” Lisa’s voice sharpened, maternal instinct kicking in.

“I can handle it,” Paul said, his tone steady but hollow. “Just… take care of the kids while I’m gone.”

The words carried a finality that made Lisa’s frown deepen. She opened her mouth to press him, but before she could, Paul pulled her into a fierce embrace, burying his face in her neck, inhaling deeply to memorize her scent—soap, warmth, home. He held her for a long moment, his heart breaking with every second.

Finally, he pulled back, his voice soft. “Can you grab that suit for me, love?”

Lisa blinked, confused but compliant, and retrieved the Armani suit from the closet, its dark fabric pristine and tailored. Paul slipped it on, the silk lining cool against his skin. He caught his reflection in the mirror, the sharp lines of the suit a stark contrast to the man he’d become. “Do I really look like a monkey?” He asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Lisa started to tease but stopped, her eyes softening. She stepped forward, adjusting his tie with care. “No, you look handsome,” She said, her voice catching.

Paul’s smile widened, and he leaned down, kissing her deeply, their lips lingering as if he could hold onto this moment forever. When they parted, he walked to the door, pausing to look back. Words of farewell churned in his mind, but none felt right. “Goodbye,” He said simply, his eyes locked on hers, heavy with unspoken love.

—

In the living room, Jason lounged on the couch, a half-eaten slice of pizza in hand, the grease staining his fingers. “Back already? Didn’t want to linger?”

Paul’s face was resolute, his jaw set. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”

They left the apartment, the door clicking shut behind them, and climbed into Paul’s Ford sedan, its engine rumbling to life in the quiet night. “You know that Chinese restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen?” Jason asked, settling into the passenger seat, the leather creaking under his weight.

“Yeah, you took me there once,” Paul said, his voice tight. “Good food, but too damn spicy.”

“You’ve got no taste,” Jason scoffed. “No place in New York does Sichuan better. Drive to the alley behind it.”

Paul nodded, his hands gripping the wheel. “It’s closed this late, isn’t it?”

“We’re not eating,” Jason said, his tone clipped. “Just park in the alley.”

As the car pulled away, Jason fished out his burner phone, dialing a number from memory. The call connected to Morgan, a black-market kingpin whose reach spanned guns, drugs, women, real estate, and secrets—anything you could buy, he sold. Jason was a regular, his apartment’s arsenal of military-grade weapons and grenades sourced from Morgan’s shadowy empire.

After five rings, a gruff, elderly voice answered. “Hey, Morgan, hope I’m not interrupting you and some dame.”

A dry chuckle crackled through the line. “Heh, Jason, you bastard. Knew you weren’t dead.”

“Gotta outlive a greedy old Jew like you,” Jason shot back, grinning. “You’d have to sew my mouth shut first.”

“Goddamn, Kingpin should’ve done that ages ago,” Morgan said. “What do you want this late?”

“C4. How much you got?”

Paul’s hands tightened on the wheel, his knuckles paling.

“C4?” Morgan’s voice rose, incredulous. “You’ve lost it, kid.”

“Cut the crap. Name your price.”

A pause. “Got five blocks in the warehouse. Take ’em all for 300 grand.”

“Deal,” Jason said. “Meet me at the alley behind the Hell’s Kitchen Chinese restaurant. And Morgan? I need you there in person. Things are… complicated.”

“What? You want me to leave a warm bed for this?” Morgan growled.

“I’ve got a three-million-dollar bounty on my head,” Jason said. “Can’t trust anyone else.”

“You’re a pain in my ass,” Morgan muttered. “Fine, one time only. Signal?”

“Three long knocks, one short.”

“Got it. One hour.”

“Oh, and how’s Miss Morgan doing?” Jason added, smirking.

“FUCK YOU!” Morgan hung up.

Jason pocketed the phone, his grin fading as he caught Paul’s uneasy glance. “What’s the plan? Why C4?” Paul asked, his voice trembling.

“Blood for blood,” Jason said, his eyes cold. “The Russian mafia’s my target.”

Paul’s face paled, realization dawning. “Human bomb,” He whispered, horror creeping into his voice.

“Scared?” Jason taunted, leaning back.

Paul didn’t answer, his silence heavy.

“Don’t be,” Jason said, his tone softening but firm. “Compared to being tortured to death, this is painless. Think of your family.”

Paul sighed, his shoulders slumping. “I’m not scared. Just tell me what to do.”

“Good,” Jason said. “Call Vladimir. Tell him you’ve got my location. Get him to rally every last man he’s got.”

“How do I get into their base?” Paul asked, his voice steadying.

“Tell him you’re worried about his leadership after yesterday’s fuck-up. Insist on leading the mission yourself.”

“Vladimir’s too arrogant for that,” Paul said, skeptical.

Jason’s smile was predatory. “He’ll agree if it means avenging his brother.”

—

Fifteen minutes later, the Ford pulled into the dark alley behind the Chinese restaurant, the air thick with the smell of dumpster grease and soy sauce. Paul killed the engine, the silence deafening. He’d rehearsed his pitch, his fingers trembling as he dialed Vladimir’s number.

Ring, ring, ring.

“Hello?” Vladimir’s voice was sharp, impatient.

“It’s Paul,” He said, steadying himself.

“Who? Oh, Jason’s lapdog,” Vladimir sneered.

Paul’s jaw tightened, but he pushed forward, his tone mocking. “Sounds like you’re in a foul mood, Vladimir. Can’t blame you—Jason wiped out twenty of your guys and blew your brother’s balls off. That’d ruin anyone’s day.”

“You little shit,” Vladimir growled. “I’m keeping score. Once Jason’s dead, you’re next.”

“Kill Jason?” Paul laughed. “You don’t even know where he is.”

Silence.

“What’s your point?” Vladimir demanded.

“I was Jason’s right hand,” Paul said. “I know where he’s hiding.”

“What!” Vladimir’s voice cracked with urgency. “Give me the address. Name your price.”

“I don’t want money,” Paul said. “If you want Jason, you and your crew follow my lead. Otherwise, he’ll slip through your fingers again.”

The line went quiet, Vladimir’s reluctance palpable. Jason gave Paul a nod, urging patience. After a tense moment, Vladimir spoke. “Fine. I’m in. What’s the plan?”

Paul exhaled, relief mixing with dread. “Round up every man you’ve got. Bring all your weapons—heavy gear too. When you’re ready, call me.”

“Why betray him?” Vladimir asked, suspicious.

Paul’s voice was cold. “Who do you think sold him out in the first place?”

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