Chapter 1
If audio player doesn't work, press Stop then Play button again
A/N:""Psst..u got a bit of violence ahead of you.""
***
<▪▪Purpose▪▪>
I loved silence. The silence that followed the noise. That deafening silence. The silence after a scream. The silence after a gunshot. The silence after a car crash. That silence that lasted for just a few seconds before the world came crashing down on you, before a body thudded on the ground, dead.
The silence of the garage I was standing in was screaming with my insanity as I bit my lower lip in focus. It was dim-lit and smelled strongly of gasoline and burnt rubber. I took a deep breath, looked at the cigarette butt of a cigarette I just smoked on the ground, looked at my polished, black boots, then shifted my gaze to the crumpled being moaning on the floor beneath my feet. I smiled.
It was nice to get someone to beg you every once in a while. Especially if it were for their lives.
Very appealing indeed.
I tilted my head to the side and rubbed my chin with my gun's tip. Cold and hard. The way I liked it.
"Please- pleas-" the man of my father's age whimpered breaking my chain of thoughts.
"Shhh. Can't you see me busy?" I said examining my gun.
The firm handle. The smooth trigger. My initials at the hilt. Orgasmic.
"I can-can't tell you where they are-" the old man dared to say as he lifted his head by an inch to look at me.
I clenched my teeth, worked my jaw, then stopped examining my gun to look down at him. His almost bald head, his bloodied lips, his blackened eyes and the cigarette marks on his arms.
Oh, yes, I gave him those.
But there was a problem. A major one. He wasn't submitting yet. He wasn't telling me where the stolen documents were. Those documents. Father's company's documents. Trouble-screaming documents.
Having no time to waste, I knelt down next to him and forcefully grabbed his head with the hair he had left. He let out a shriek and I pulled harder.
I liked the sound of his scream. Sounded like a pussy to me. But the following silence would be much more pleasurable, punctuated by -I hope- a trail of his stale, warm blood when I put a bullet in his skull. If he didn't answer.
"Look, old man," I said tugging harder. "I've spent an hour trying to get that BLOODY answer out of your filthy mouth! If you don't tell me-" I said feeling the anger course in my body. "I'll kill you. I'll make sure that nothing of you remains on this earth. I'll diminish your existence. I'll kill your daughter-"
"No-ot Sam-" he spluttered as his eyes sparkled with renewed fear and his light eyebrows furrowed pleadingly.
Fear. People's fuel to get them to do what they're asked.
I grinned.
"I k-know you're not bad-- It's y-your fath--You don't understand, let me explain--plea-"
"SHUT UP!" I said slamming the gun into the side of his head with as much force as I could muster.
I had no tolerance for talkative people, talkative dying people.
"You dare! You dare bring up my father in this! YOU DARE AFTER STEALING THOSE DOCUMENTS YOU BLOODY KNOB!" I shoved the gun again to the side of his head and heard a satisfying crack this time.
The son of a whore angered me! I was calm I swear. I was fucking calm! Because now, he unleashed something very dark and monstrous. Something unharnessable.
His head lolled to the side as a stream of blood slithered across the side of his face. I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Fun just couldn't end yet.
"Well, aren't you going to answer me?!" I demanded impatiently but got no reply.
I pulled his hair, but he didn't even utter a scream. "I'LL KILL YOUR DAUGHTER OLD MAN! GODDAMMIT, ANSWER ME!" I said losing my patience and slamming his head to the floor. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and I frowned staring at him.
Oops. I killed him.
I calmed my haphazard breathing and placed two shaky fingers on his bloodied neck.
No pulse. See?
I got up, glanced down at his lifeless body with the blood trickling down the side of his face, kicked him to the other side, removed my leather gloves and shoved them in my pants' pockets.
I looked at the empty garage which would soon be filled with the sound of sirens. I'd be gone by that time.
I walked out, whistled, closed my leather jacket and headed to my black Mustang. I was thinking about the consequences of having killed the man -Ricardo- fruitlessly and clicked my tongue as I opened the door to my car.
My baby.
Father was going to be furious.
I got in, started the engine and sped to Father's haven.
---
The gates were open welcoming me into my Father's mansion.
I lived here. Occasionally.
I drove all the way around the fountains and long strips of vegetation until I parked in front of the mansion's doors.
I got out and headed toward the already open doors. I stepped into the huge hall I'm used to and looked around for my father.
My father was sitting -like I expected- in the living room on his favourite couch with a cigar between his index and middle fingers that were clad with two huge rings with jewels. One had a big sapphire jewel and the other had a big black jewel.
It was a family thing.
My thumb brushed the jade jewel on the ring on my middle finger absentmindedly before I approached Father.
He wouldn't be happy with the news. I told you.
I stood in front of him and clenched my jaws, readying myself for his bullshit.
"He arrives." He said to no one in particular in his strong, arrogant voice as he put out his cigar and clasped his hands.
Age didn't seem to have any effect on my father. The sharpness in his dark, observing eyes, the strength in his jaws and the tone of his voice all demanded fear and respect.
"What did you do this time? Did you finally prove me wrong?" He was mocking me about our previous fight. That fight when I swore I wasn't a reckless person. I am not reckless. Except when angered.
"I-" I tried to interject but of course he had to block me off.
"Ah, wait... America!" He called one of our maids with a snap of his fingers. She was next to him in a matter of seconds. "Put on some music, please. Anything," he said casually and I clenched my fists.
He then looked at me with his piercing, dark brown eyes and smiled. Sometimes I envied him of his composure.
"You were saying?" He waved his hand in my direction and I pursed my lips.
"I killed him," I said, shrugging.
My father just kept staring at me while my blood boiled from anger as music filled my ears.
I hated music. It was more than hate. I loathed it. My father knew how to get to me. Every. Single. Time.
"Of course you did!" He said all of a sudden with a joyful voice while I narrowed my eyes. He was pretending that everything was all daisies, when in fact, he knew that everything was messed up. "Did you know where he kept the documents though?"
I closed my eyes and remembered the man I killed for them. A man my father's age. I killed a man of my father's age and gained nothing. I enjoyed killing, yes. But I hated it if it were of no use. It'd make me guilty.
"He wouldn't tell me," I said reluctantly cocking an eyebrow.
My father stared more and I fidgeted with the ring on my middle finger more.
"WELL DID YOU EXPECT HIM TO TELL YOU?! WHAT DID I SEND YOU FOR?!"
"I-" I wanted to explain how he triggered me. How he triggered by telling me something that caught me off guard. He told me that I wasn't 'bad'. That it was all my father. He shouldn't have said such things. Such things that got him killed so barbarically.
"WE MIGHT AS WELL HAVE LOST THOSE FOREVER! I should've never trusted you on this. You never proved to be anything but a BLOODY mistake carrying my BLOODY NAME!" He said angrily and I didn't wince. "NOW WHOM IN HEAVEN'S NAME ARE WE GOING TO ASK?! HIS RESTING SOUL?!"
He was lying. I was his right hand. I did all his dirty work concerning his company- Gorj. I did it all for him. He was being unfair too. This was my first time I flopped. He was angering me.
I tapped my feet and looked at him still fidgeting with my ring.
Compose yourself for God's sake.
Relax.
Deep breaths.
Control your anger.
Think.
Think- I told myself.
"I know who to ask," I found myself saying as a memory blossomed at the back of my head.
My father looked at me testily then laughed a short, hard, humourless laugh. A haunting laugh that echoed mercilessly in the vacancy of my mind.
"Would you stop laughing?" I blurted angrily causing my father to actually stop and glare at me.
"Is that a command, Julius? " He raised an eyebrow as his eyes twinkled eerily under the bright lights. "Was that a bloody command? You dare to command me in my house?!"
The music was blaring from the speakers disrupting my thoughts and teasing my anger to unleash.
"No," I whispered despite the hatred that almost burnt my tongue to say the truth. He heard. He always did.
"No, what?" He snapped, clenching his jaws.
"No. Sir," I added meeting his gaze in anger.
His son calling him 'Sir' shouldn't satisfy him so much. But it did. I watched him lean back on the couch and exhale, smiling.
"What were you saying again?" He tilted his head a bit as I blinked at him.
"I know who might help us-" I tried, but he interrupted.
"No." He shook his head scornfully. "You got that wrong son. Who might help you with this. Son, you do understand that if you don't return me those documents I'll enjail you? You know that right?"
I looked up surprised. No, I didn't.
"Well, now you know. You may continue." He said waving his right hand randomly towards me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
"His daughter. Sam. That was her name." I said slowly as I watched him process this new information.
My father looked at me, his eyes calculating something I'd never get hold off.
"Hmm...A daughter?"
I looked at him in disgust but made sure none of it showed on my face. I didn't want him to know that he'd got to me. Would never give him this pleasure. And it was easy. Masking my emotions was very easy for me to do.
"Find everything about her. Every little detail. Give me feedback. I want everything within forty-eight hours."
Forty-eight hours? I raised my eyebrows. He was being unreasonable.
"Now, piss off."
I smirked, turned and headed back up in my room. It was spacious with a huge king-sized bed, walk-in closet, shelves heaved down by books of different sizes and shapes and a table pushed to a corner. The walls were a pastel green and the lights were dim.
I didn't like bright light. It sounded very exposing to me.
I took out my gun from the back of my pants remembering how hard I slammed it in the man's head to kill him.
I sat on the bed looking at the gun in my hands and felt the anger flood from within. This anger directed at nobody, but myself.
Not only have I destroyed a man's life. I've also destroyed the lives of anyone who loved him. For nothing. I was stupid, reckless and angry.
And that was me being guilty. Being human- a rare occurrence.
I took a deep breath and rubbed my finger across my initials on my gun.
Now I think you deserve a proper introduction to the person you'll be reading about. Because it'll be a long story. Not very long. But long enough to tell you how my life took this sharp turn. How things got so unbelievably good at times and how they got overbearingly bad.
So now, is the right time, I think.
I am Julius Caesar Alexander Black. I take risks. I hurt people. I kill people a lot of times too. I inflict pain on them. I want to see them crumble. I am Julius Caesar who believes that no soul is worth living except for his soul and his father's. I hate everyone. And everyone hates me too. I don't make connections with people. Cause I tend to always hurt them. For I'm not a kind of human people would want to associate with.
And I don't blame them.
***
A/N: Hmm... *whispers* What do you think?
What's below was in the introduction, but for those who skipped it, I believe that it is important for you to know about. It's about the writing style. So I'll just paste it here :)
Writing Style
Now this might seem unusual, but I want you to imagine Julius Caesar telling you the story. It is in the past tense and will include the present Julius commenting on certain actions or thoughts of the past Julius. The present tense signifies present Julius. Okay? I just really wish it wouldn't be confusing or i will have to opt for bold text.
Character aesthetics will be added later in the book, but after you get to know all the story's characters ;)- I'd hate to spoil it for you.
Anyway, thank you so much whoever is reading this. You've no idea how your support means to me. ♥
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
A/N:""Psst..u got a bit of violence ahead of you.""
***
<▪▪Purpose▪▪>
I loved silence. The silence that followed the noise. That deafening silence. The silence after a scream. The silence after a gunshot. The silence after a car crash. That silence that lasted for just a few seconds before the world came crashing down on you, before a body thudded on the ground, dead.
The silence of the garage I was standing in was screaming with my insanity as I bit my lower lip in focus. It was dim-lit and smelled strongly of gasoline and burnt rubber. I took a deep breath, looked at the cigarette butt of a cigarette I just smoked on the ground, looked at my polished, black boots, then shifted my gaze to the crumpled being moaning on the floor beneath my feet. I smiled.
It was nice to get someone to beg you every once in a while. Especially if it were for their lives.
Very appealing indeed.
I tilted my head to the side and rubbed my chin with my gun's tip. Cold and hard. The way I liked it.
"Please- pleas-" the man of my father's age whimpered breaking my chain of thoughts.
"Shhh. Can't you see me busy?" I said examining my gun.
The firm handle. The smooth trigger. My initials at the hilt. Orgasmic.
"I can-can't tell you where they are-" the old man dared to say as he lifted his head by an inch to look at me.
I clenched my teeth, worked my jaw, then stopped examining my gun to look down at him. His almost bald head, his bloodied lips, his blackened eyes and the cigarette marks on his arms.
Oh, yes, I gave him those.
But there was a problem. A major one. He wasn't submitting yet. He wasn't telling me where the stolen documents were. Those documents. Father's company's documents. Trouble-screaming documents.
Having no time to waste, I knelt down next to him and forcefully grabbed his head with the hair he had left. He let out a shriek and I pulled harder.
I liked the sound of his scream. Sounded like a pussy to me. But the following silence would be much more pleasurable, punctuated by -I hope- a trail of his stale, warm blood when I put a bullet in his skull. If he didn't answer.
"Look, old man," I said tugging harder. "I've spent an hour trying to get that BLOODY answer out of your filthy mouth! If you don't tell me-" I said feeling the anger course in my body. "I'll kill you. I'll make sure that nothing of you remains on this earth. I'll diminish your existence. I'll kill your daughter-"
"No-ot Sam-" he spluttered as his eyes sparkled with renewed fear and his light eyebrows furrowed pleadingly.
Fear. People's fuel to get them to do what they're asked.
I grinned.
"I k-know you're not bad-- It's y-your fath--You don't understand, let me explain--plea-"
"SHUT UP!" I said slamming the gun into the side of his head with as much force as I could muster.
I had no tolerance for talkative people, talkative dying people.
"You dare! You dare bring up my father in this! YOU DARE AFTER STEALING THOSE DOCUMENTS YOU BLOODY KNOB!" I shoved the gun again to the side of his head and heard a satisfying crack this time.
The son of a whore angered me! I was calm I swear. I was fucking calm! Because now, he unleashed something very dark and monstrous. Something unharnessable.
His head lolled to the side as a stream of blood slithered across the side of his face. I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Fun just couldn't end yet.
"Well, aren't you going to answer me?!" I demanded impatiently but got no reply.
I pulled his hair, but he didn't even utter a scream. "I'LL KILL YOUR DAUGHTER OLD MAN! GODDAMMIT, ANSWER ME!" I said losing my patience and slamming his head to the floor. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and I frowned staring at him.
Oops. I killed him.
I calmed my haphazard breathing and placed two shaky fingers on his bloodied neck.
No pulse. See?
I got up, glanced down at his lifeless body with the blood trickling down the side of his face, kicked him to the other side, removed my leather gloves and shoved them in my pants' pockets.
I looked at the empty garage which would soon be filled with the sound of sirens. I'd be gone by that time.
I walked out, whistled, closed my leather jacket and headed to my black Mustang. I was thinking about the consequences of having killed the man -Ricardo- fruitlessly and clicked my tongue as I opened the door to my car.
My baby.
Father was going to be furious.
I got in, started the engine and sped to Father's haven.
---
The gates were open welcoming me into my Father's mansion.
I lived here. Occasionally.
I drove all the way around the fountains and long strips of vegetation until I parked in front of the mansion's doors.
I got out and headed toward the already open doors. I stepped into the huge hall I'm used to and looked around for my father.
My father was sitting -like I expected- in the living room on his favourite couch with a cigar between his index and middle fingers that were clad with two huge rings with jewels. One had a big sapphire jewel and the other had a big black jewel.
It was a family thing.
My thumb brushed the jade jewel on the ring on my middle finger absentmindedly before I approached Father.
He wouldn't be happy with the news. I told you.
I stood in front of him and clenched my jaws, readying myself for his bullshit.
"He arrives." He said to no one in particular in his strong, arrogant voice as he put out his cigar and clasped his hands.
Age didn't seem to have any effect on my father. The sharpness in his dark, observing eyes, the strength in his jaws and the tone of his voice all demanded fear and respect.
"What did you do this time? Did you finally prove me wrong?" He was mocking me about our previous fight. That fight when I swore I wasn't a reckless person. I am not reckless. Except when angered.
"I-" I tried to interject but of course he had to block me off.
"Ah, wait... America!" He called one of our maids with a snap of his fingers. She was next to him in a matter of seconds. "Put on some music, please. Anything," he said casually and I clenched my fists.
He then looked at me with his piercing, dark brown eyes and smiled. Sometimes I envied him of his composure.
"You were saying?" He waved his hand in my direction and I pursed my lips.
"I killed him," I said, shrugging.
My father just kept staring at me while my blood boiled from anger as music filled my ears.
I hated music. It was more than hate. I loathed it. My father knew how to get to me. Every. Single. Time.
"Of course you did!" He said all of a sudden with a joyful voice while I narrowed my eyes. He was pretending that everything was all daisies, when in fact, he knew that everything was messed up. "Did you know where he kept the documents though?"
I closed my eyes and remembered the man I killed for them. A man my father's age. I killed a man of my father's age and gained nothing. I enjoyed killing, yes. But I hated it if it were of no use. It'd make me guilty.
"He wouldn't tell me," I said reluctantly cocking an eyebrow.
My father stared more and I fidgeted with the ring on my middle finger more.
"WELL DID YOU EXPECT HIM TO TELL YOU?! WHAT DID I SEND YOU FOR?!"
"I-" I wanted to explain how he triggered me. How he triggered by telling me something that caught me off guard. He told me that I wasn't 'bad'. That it was all my father. He shouldn't have said such things. Such things that got him killed so barbarically.
"WE MIGHT AS WELL HAVE LOST THOSE FOREVER! I should've never trusted you on this. You never proved to be anything but a BLOODY mistake carrying my BLOODY NAME!" He said angrily and I didn't wince. "NOW WHOM IN HEAVEN'S NAME ARE WE GOING TO ASK?! HIS RESTING SOUL?!"
He was lying. I was his right hand. I did all his dirty work concerning his company- Gorj. I did it all for him. He was being unfair too. This was my first time I flopped. He was angering me.
I tapped my feet and looked at him still fidgeting with my ring.
Compose yourself for God's sake.
Relax.
Deep breaths.
Control your anger.
Think.
Think- I told myself.
"I know who to ask," I found myself saying as a memory blossomed at the back of my head.
My father looked at me testily then laughed a short, hard, humourless laugh. A haunting laugh that echoed mercilessly in the vacancy of my mind.
"Would you stop laughing?" I blurted angrily causing my father to actually stop and glare at me.
"Is that a command, Julius? " He raised an eyebrow as his eyes twinkled eerily under the bright lights. "Was that a bloody command? You dare to command me in my house?!"
The music was blaring from the speakers disrupting my thoughts and teasing my anger to unleash.
"No," I whispered despite the hatred that almost burnt my tongue to say the truth. He heard. He always did.
"No, what?" He snapped, clenching his jaws.
"No. Sir," I added meeting his gaze in anger.
His son calling him 'Sir' shouldn't satisfy him so much. But it did. I watched him lean back on the couch and exhale, smiling.
"What were you saying again?" He tilted his head a bit as I blinked at him.
"I know who might help us-" I tried, but he interrupted.
"No." He shook his head scornfully. "You got that wrong son. Who might help you with this. Son, you do understand that if you don't return me those documents I'll enjail you? You know that right?"
I looked up surprised. No, I didn't.
"Well, now you know. You may continue." He said waving his right hand randomly towards me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
"His daughter. Sam. That was her name." I said slowly as I watched him process this new information.
My father looked at me, his eyes calculating something I'd never get hold off.
"Hmm...A daughter?"
I looked at him in disgust but made sure none of it showed on my face. I didn't want him to know that he'd got to me. Would never give him this pleasure. And it was easy. Masking my emotions was very easy for me to do.
"Find everything about her. Every little detail. Give me feedback. I want everything within forty-eight hours."
Forty-eight hours? I raised my eyebrows. He was being unreasonable.
"Now, piss off."
I smirked, turned and headed back up in my room. It was spacious with a huge king-sized bed, walk-in closet, shelves heaved down by books of different sizes and shapes and a table pushed to a corner. The walls were a pastel green and the lights were dim.
I didn't like bright light. It sounded very exposing to me.
I took out my gun from the back of my pants remembering how hard I slammed it in the man's head to kill him.
I sat on the bed looking at the gun in my hands and felt the anger flood from within. This anger directed at nobody, but myself.
Not only have I destroyed a man's life. I've also destroyed the lives of anyone who loved him. For nothing. I was stupid, reckless and angry.
And that was me being guilty. Being human- a rare occurrence.
I took a deep breath and rubbed my finger across my initials on my gun.
Now I think you deserve a proper introduction to the person you'll be reading about. Because it'll be a long story. Not very long. But long enough to tell you how my life took this sharp turn. How things got so unbelievably good at times and how they got overbearingly bad.
So now, is the right time, I think.
I am Julius Caesar Alexander Black. I take risks. I hurt people. I kill people a lot of times too. I inflict pain on them. I want to see them crumble. I am Julius Caesar who believes that no soul is worth living except for his soul and his father's. I hate everyone. And everyone hates me too. I don't make connections with people. Cause I tend to always hurt them. For I'm not a kind of human people would want to associate with.
And I don't blame them.
***
A/N: Hmm... *whispers* What do you think?
What's below was in the introduction, but for those who skipped it, I believe that it is important for you to know about. It's about the writing style. So I'll just paste it here :)
Writing Style
Now this might seem unusual, but I want you to imagine Julius Caesar telling you the story. It is in the past tense and will include the present Julius commenting on certain actions or thoughts of the past Julius. The present tense signifies present Julius. Okay? I just really wish it wouldn't be confusing or i will have to opt for bold text.
Character aesthetics will be added later in the book, but after you get to know all the story's characters ;)- I'd hate to spoil it for you.
Anyway, thank you so much whoever is reading this. You've no idea how your support means to me. ♥
A/N:""Psst..u got a bit of violence ahead of you."" *** Purpose I loved silence. The silence that followed the noise. That deafening silence. The silence after a scream. The silence after a gunshot. The silence after a car crash. That silence that lasted for just a few seconds before the world came crashing down on you, before a body thudded on the ground, dead. The silence of the garage I was standing in was screaming with my insanity as I bit my lower lip in focus. It was dim-lit and smelled strongly of gasoline and burnt rubber. I took a deep breath, looked at the cigarette butt of a cigarette I just smoked on the ground, looked at my polished, black boots, then shifted my gaze to the crumpled being moaning on the floor beneath my feet. I smiled. It was nice to get someone to beg you every once in a while. Especially if it were for their lives. Very appealing indeed. I tilted my head to the side and rubbed my chin with my gun's tip. Cold and hard. The way I liked it. "Please- pleas-" the man of my father's age whimpered breaking my chain of thoughts. "Shhh. Can't you see me busy?" I said examining my gun. The firm handle. The smooth trigger. My initials at the hilt. Orgasmic. "I can-can't tell you where they are-" the old man dared to say as he lifted his head by an inch to look at me. I clenched my teeth, worked my jaw, then stopped examining my gun to look down at him. His almost bald head, his bloodied lips, his blackened eyes and the cigarette marks on his arms. Oh, yes, I gave him those. But there was a problem. A major one. He wasn't submitting yet. He wasn't telling me where the stolen documents were. Those documents. Father's company's documents. Trouble-screaming documents. Having no time to waste, I knelt down next to him and forcefully grabbed his head with the hair he had left. He let out a shriek and I pulled harder. I liked the sound of his scream. Sounded like a pussy to me. But the following silence would be much more pleasurable, punctuated by -I hope- a trail of his stale, warm blood when I put a bullet in his skull. If he didn't answer. "Look, old man," I said tugging harder. "I've spent an hour trying to get that BLOODY answer out of your filthy mouth! If you don't tell me-" I said feeling the anger course in my body. "I'll kill you. I'll make sure that nothing of you remains on this earth. I'll diminish your existence. I'll kill your daughter-" "No-ot Sam-" he spluttered as his eyes sparkled with renewed fear and his light eyebrows furrowed pleadingly. Fear. People's fuel to get them to do what they're asked. I grinned. "I k-know you're not bad-- It's y-your fath--You don't understand, let me explain--plea-" "SHUT UP!" I said slamming the gun into the side of his head with as much force as I could muster. I had no tolerance for talkative people, talkative dying people. "You dare! You dare bring up my father in this! YOU DARE AFTER STEALING THOSE DOCUMENTS YOU BLOODY KNOB!" I shoved the gun again to the side of his head and heard a satisfying crack this time. The son of a whore angered me! I was calm I swear. I was fucking calm! Because now, he unleashed something very dark and monstrous. Something unharnessable. His head lolled to the side as a stream of blood slithered across the side of his face. I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Fun just couldn't end yet. "Well, aren't you going to answer me?!" I demanded impatiently but got no reply. I pulled his hair, but he didn't even utter a scream."I'LL KILL YOUR DAUGHTER OLD MAN! GODDAMMIT, ANSWER ME!" I said losing my patience and slamming his head to the floor. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and I frowned staring at him. Oops. I killed him. I calmed my haphazard breathing and placed two shaky fingers on his bloodied neck. No pulse. See? I got up, glanced down at his lifeless body with the blood trickling down the side of his face, kicked him to the other side, removed my leather gloves and shoved them in my pants' pockets. I looked at the empty garage which would soon be filled with the sound of sirens. I'd be gone by that time. I walked out, whistled, closed my leather jacket and headed to my black Mustang. I was thinking about the consequences of having killed the man -Ricardo- fruitlessly and clicked my tongue as I opened the door to my car. My baby. Father was going to be furious. I got in, started the engine and sped to Father's haven. --- The gates were open welcoming me into my Father's mansion. I lived here. Occasionally. I drove all the way around the fountains and long strips of vegetation until I parked in front of the mansion's doors. I got out and headed toward the already open doors. I stepped into the huge hall I'm used to and looked around for my father. My father was sitting -like I expected- in the living room on his favourite couch with a cigar between his index and middle fingers that were clad with two huge rings with jewels. One had a big sapphire jewel and the other had a big black jewel. It was a family thing. My thumb brushed the jade jewel on the ring on my middle finger absentmindedly before I approached Father. He wouldn't be happy with the news. I told you. I stood in front of him and clenched my jaws, readying myself for his bullshit. "He arrives." He said to no one in particular in his strong, arrogant voice as he put out his cigar and clasped his hands. Age didn't seem to have any effect on my father. The sharpness in his dark, observing eyes, the strength in his jaws and the tone of his voice all demanded fear and respect. "What did you do this time? Did you finally prove me wrong?" He was mocking me about our previous fight. That fight when I swore I wasn't a reckless person. I am not reckless. Except when angered. "I-" I tried to interject but of course he had to block me off. "Ah, wait... America!" He called one of our maids with a snap of his fingers. She was next to him in a matter of seconds. "Put on some music, please. Anything," he said casually and I clenched my fists. He then looked at me with his piercing, dark brown eyes and smiled. Sometimes I envied him of his composure. "You were saying?" He waved his hand in my direction and I pursed my lips. "I killed him," I said, shrugging. My father just kept staring at me while my blood boiled from anger as music filled my ears. I hated music. It was more than hate. I loathed it. My father knew how to get to me. Every. Single. Time. "Of course you did!" He said all of a sudden with a joyful voice while I narrowed my eyes. He was pretending that everything was all daisies, when in fact, he knew that everything was messed up. "Did you know where he kept the documents though?" I closed my eyes and remembered the man I killed for them. A man my father's age. I killed a man of my father's age and gained nothing. I enjoyed killing, yes. But I hated it if it were of no use. It'd make me guilty. "He wouldn't tell me," I said reluctantly cocking an eyebrow. My father stared more and I fidgeted with the ring on my middle finger more. "WELL DID YOU EXPECT HIM TO TELL YOU?! WHAT DID I SEND YOU FOR?!" "I-" I wanted to explain how he triggered me. How he triggered by telling me something that caught me off guard. He told me that I wasn't 'bad'. That it was all my father. He shouldn't have said such things. Such things that got him killed so barbarically. "WE MIGHT AS WELL HAVE LOST THOSE FOREVER! I should've never trusted you on this. You never proved to be anything but a BLOODY mistake carrying my BLOODY NAME!" He said angrily and I didn't wince. "NOW WHOM IN HEAVEN'S NAME ARE WE GOING TO ASK?! HIS RESTING SOUL?!" He was lying. I was his right hand. I did all his dirty work concerning his company- Gorj. I did it all for him. He was being unfair too. This was my first time I flopped. He was angering me. I tapped my feet and looked at him still fidgeting with my ring. Compose yourself for God's sake. Relax. Deep breaths. Control your anger. Think. Think- I told myself. "I know who to ask," I found myself saying as a memory blossomed at the back of my head. My father looked at me testily then laughed a short, hard, humourless laugh. A haunting laugh that echoed mercilessly in the vacancy of my mind. "Would you stop laughing?" I blurted angrily causing my father to actually stop and glare at me. "Is that a command,Julius?" He raised an eyebrow as his eyes twinkled eerily under the bright lights. "Was that a bloody command? You dare to command me in my house?!" The music was blaring from the speakers disrupting my thoughts and teasing my anger to unleash. "No," I whispered despite the hatred that almost burnt my tongue to say the truth. He heard. He always did. "No,what?" He snapped, clenching his jaws. "No. Sir," I added meeting his gaze in anger. His son calling him 'Sir' shouldn't satisfy him so much. But it did. I watched him lean back on the couch and exhale, smiling. "What were you saying again?" He tilted his head a bit as I blinked at him. "I know who might help us-" I tried, but he interrupted. "No." He shook his head scornfully. "You got that wrong son. Who might help you with this. Son, you do understand that if you don't return me those documents I'll enjail you? You know that right?" I looked up surprised. No, I didn't. "Well, now you know. You may continue." He said waving his right hand randomly towards me. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "His daughter. Sam. That was her name." I said slowly as I watched him process this new information. My father looked at me, his eyes calculating something I'd never get hold off. "Hmm...A daughter?" I looked at him in disgust but made sure none of it showed on my face. I didn't want him to know that he'd got to me. Would never give him this pleasure. And it was easy. Masking my emotions was very easy for me to do. "Find everything about her. Every little detail. Give me feedback. I want everything within forty-eight hours." Forty-eight hours? I raised my eyebrows. He was being unreasonable. "Now, piss off." I smirked, turned and headed back up in my room. It was spacious with a huge king-sized bed, walk-in closet, shelves heaved down by books of different sizes and shapes and a table pushed to a corner. The walls were a pastel green and the lights were dim. I didn't like bright light. It sounded very exposing to me. I took out my gun from the back of my pants remembering how hard I slammed it in the man's head to kill him. I sat on the bed looking at the gun in my hands and felt the anger flood from within. This anger directed at nobody, but myself. Not only have I destroyed a man's life. I've also destroyed the lives of anyone who loved him. For nothing.I was stupid, reckless and angry. And that was me being guilty. Being human- a rare occurrence. I took a deep breath and rubbed my finger across my initials on my gun. Now I think you deserve a proper introduction to the person you'll be reading about. Because it'll be a long story. Not very long. But long enough to tell you how my life took this sharp turn. How things got so unbelievably good at times and how they got overbearingly bad. So now, is the right time, I think. I am Julius Caesar Alexander Black. I take risks. I hurt people. I kill people a lot of times too. I inflict pain on them. I want to see them crumble. I am Julius Caesar who believes that no soul is worth living except for his soul and his father's. I hate everyone. And everyone hates me too. I don't make connections with people. Cause I tend to always hurt them. For I'm not a kind of human people would want to associate with. And I don't blame them. *** A/N: Hmm... *whispers* What do you think? What's below was in the introduction, but for those who skipped it, I believe that it is important for you to know about. It's about the writing style. So I'll just paste it here : Writing Style Now this might seem unusual, but I want you to imagine Julius Caesar telling you the story. It is in the past tense and will include the present Julius commenting on certain actions or thoughts of the past Julius. The present tense signifies present Julius. Okay? I just really wish it wouldn't be confusing or i will have to opt for bold text. Character aesthetics will be added later in the book, but after you get to know all the story's characters ;- I'd hate to spoil it for you. Anyway, thank you so much whoever is reading this. You've no idea how your support means to me.
