Stephano

1. Whelve

Whelve (whel-ve) 

v. To bury something deep; to hide.

♡

It all seemed so fake- so unreal. Confusion could be heard from a distance and fear could be smelt from miles away. Riley sat there in a corner with her legs bent up to her chest, her head rests buried in between her knees as she held in her sobs.

The room was dark, no windows, no light. All that came to view was the simple white bed that sprawled across the center floor and the door which led to a bathroom. It seemed more of a room that held a needed prisoner than a room that was meant for a long stay—not that she wanted to stay, but there was no choice—she knew that.

Where is Amara? What did they do to her? was all that circled the thoughts of Riley. It was all she could focus on. She was selfless in the manner. Most 'wise' people would've looked for a way out, or would've been questioning their wrongdoings. Riley only worried about her friend. Everything else didn't hold any matter, it was the person who stuck by her side like glue that truly mattered to her. That is what made her so different.

She'd try anything to keep from crying her eyes out and pouring out her aching soul just to end the brutal battle of her mind from her anxiety. What if...

"What if they did something to her? What if they took her like they had done to me? I can't let that happen to her. I need to know where she is."

"Don't cry. Don't cry."

Before she could stop it, a tear fell from her eye but she instantly wiped it away with an indelicate touch. You have to remember what mother said, "Crying is for bi*ches and it shows weakness. If a tear falls from your eye, the title of my daughter doesn't belong to you, even though I am so shameful to call you one now." No. More. Tears. And no more weaknesses.

• S •

On the other hand, a few hours ago, Stephano, sat back in a chair of a man who still is needed to supply him his goods that he paid awfully a lot of money for. "My drugs, where is it?" Stephano asked the supplier. His face remained serious and not even twitching with any insight of emotion just his eyes, nose, and mouth. No shine of happiness, sadness, or even anger in his eyes. No scrunch in the nose to show distaste. No smile, smirk, or frown showed anywhere near him, ever.

"Mr. Christino, I have your drugs but I am in need something," the leader of the mob Stephano decided to get a little extra 'help' from, dared to say such a thing to a man like Stephano. He'd kill you from the inside and through each blood vessel until he makes his way outside where he tears you apart limb from limb. Stephano remained emotionless staring at the bastard who wouldn't supply him his coke because he wants something for exchange when he had already given him the price he said he wanted.

Stephano lifted his right arm up and put his two together and with a small movement of pushing them forward, three bodyguards grabbed the man who was idiotic to believe of such a negotiation.

The guards put him in a restraint that only needed the order from their boss for his head to be disconnected from his neck. "No! No! Mr. Christiano, I'll give you the drugs!" The Mexican mob leader shouted out in such fear that it almost hurt to hear it, to Stephano, it was music that he had on repeat playing over and over again because it was his favorite song. It was the song he once sang.

"Where the f**k are my drugs, Carlos?" Stephano asked, his voice remained calm and although it hadn't posed as a threat it still had that tormenting ring, and it could scare to the core.

"I have it! I swear I do, just please let me go!" He begged. The man—who is supposed to be the leader of this big mob—is actually begging to have his life. He should be fighting, but he isn't. Suspiciously, Stephano narrows his eyes at Carlos. Something is wrong, he feels it.

"You do know what I do to little boys who cross me. I kill them, and with that, I kill everything they love and let them watch. I will take you apart piece by piece, emotionally to the point where instead of begging me to let you keep your life, you will be begging me to end it," Stephano says tauntingly, just letting his threat linger in the air.

The man, Carlos visibly trembles in fear and a loud gulp echoed through the intense air. Stephano looks deeply into the man's eyes searching for something—unloyalty, "Is there something you want to tell me, little boy?"

"Now!" He shouts and before you know it, a gun shoots through the glass of the office leaving it to be shattered and the man is fighting the guards that were once holding him down.

Stephano immediately ran behind the desk and reached for his watch where he screamed into it, "send in everyone, this is about to get really f*****g messy."

He got up not caring about the bullets that were still blasting through the air like words. One of Stephano's guards were taken down with blood pooling by his head and the mob leader was currently fighting the other guard. Stephano wasted no time in grabbing the man by his throat and yanking him to the desk where he hit his head and bled to death from the impact causing his skull to shatter.

The man lifelessly fell to the floor, dead. Stephano tilted his head to the side to send a message to his guard which he understood and bent down to wipe him clean of weapons and checked his pulse to find nothing. Rest peacefully in hell motherf*cker, I'll see you there soon.

They strode out the room where the sounds of the guns stopped and down the hallway to meet the rest of his best fighters. They walked down the stairs and into a room where naked women walked around, danced on poles, or were publicly having s*x with the Mexican mob who were laughing and enjoying the entertainment, until Stephano came in. This is their poor excuse of women entertainment?

The fun stopped along with the music and then all the men got up out of their seats and walked up to the Stephano and his men as if they had a chance of possibly winning this blood-craving battle. "Who the hell are you?" One of the men spoke out who decided to become the leader of this little gathering.

"I'm afraid I should be asking you that," Stephano calmly stated. The man was angry because it seemed like Stephano was making this out to be his home. With gritted yellow teeth the man replied, "Alejandro."

As soon as the word escaped his lips the man and his people flung their guns out at Stephano and his men. Were they scared? No.

A dark and unhumorous chuckle escaped Stepahnos lips. "Stephano Christiano. Now listen, I want what is mine, and if I don't receive it, a call would be what is made- and trust me you little puppy, you don't want that," He told Alejandro whose eyes grew as wide as saucers. Immediately, he ran in the back as Stephano snapped his fingers to get guards to watch the boy.

As he waited, Stephano starred at the women who weren't even alarmed at what was going on. Still dancing on the pole, wearing nothing.

He reached over and simply grabbed one by the neck. She had fake blonde hair trailing down her back, tiny lips, and contacted blue eyes. He pushed her away from him, not liking fake crap and when he did Alejandro walked out with a bag of cocaine worth seven million.

With a tilt of his head, a man who was the genius of his team opened the bag to see all the big bars of drugs. He stuck a knife in one of them and pulled it out. A cup of some sort of clear substance was in his hands where he put the little amount of coke in it and shook it up. We all watched to see it turn blue, meaning it is exactly what he bought.

He closed the bag and walked behind Stephano with the drugs still secured in his hands. Stephano lips twisted in a fake smile, and he walked up to the Alejandro boy. "If only your idiota of a boss had just done this is the beginning, a mess would've been avoided. Correct?" He asked the boy and without an answer, he walked out the building and to his BMW.

[ translation : i***t ]

He lifted the trunk and grabbed an explosive launcher. "You planted the bombs?" He asked one of his fighters. With a nod of his head, he showed Stephano in the exact places where he had planted them.

"Adios, amigos," He mockingly spoke in Spanish as he lifted the launcher on his shoulder and blasted it through the air on the right wing where the first bomb was. Then, launched another bomb on the bottom of the big building. Women and men ran out screaming for their lives, and Stephano smiled as he handed the launcher to his men to finish blasting the bombs.

He grabbed his rifle, and he pulled the trigger to every head he saw. Blood plastered on his body as he shot each man and woman who now lies dead on the floor. When he finished, he smirked at his work. That's what the fu*ker gets for attempting to fu*k me over.

He picked up a phone and decided to call Reid who was a sheriff, his dirty cop. He brought him protection and was paid a lot of money to do so. "Stephano," he answered.

"In Red Valley, you will see hundreds of dead bodies- bombed and shot. It wasn't me, it was your mom who had done it. Make sure everyone knows that. Goodbye," Stephano explained and with that, he hung up the phone and walked away, into his car. The explosives were bombing behind him, destroying the home of the Mexican mob.

Stephano walked to the passenger side of the door and pulled it open. He had taken a seat on the comfortable leather seat. "Drive." He demanded to the rookie he recruited a few weeks ago. He didn't say anything but drove away.

Now that Stephano had gotten exactly what he came for and even had received a little bit of fun, He enjoyed watching the beautiful scenery of life twist into the home of the devil, hell. In which, he ruled. Stephano took lives, took homes, and took their everything. It was stupid to love a man like him, no one ever had and no one ever will, and he knew it.

His sister. The girl who left him to no one, just like his mother and his father. He was a man without love —heartless is what you may call it.

He pulled out his phone that was vibrating in his pocket. "Speak." He answered it.

"We found a location of your younger sister, Daniellina. She lives in 4321 Gardil Field, alone. She now goes by the name Amara but kept the last name of Christiano. She doesn't have a loved one, and it appears she takes care of herself due to your mother being deceased one year ago when Daniellina was the age of 20. I can tell you the rest of the information when you are back-"

"I'm here," Stephano's deep, husky voice remarked, cutting the man off from his sentence.

"Okay, sir. The rest of the information will be provided in a few minutes," He stated. Stephano hung up the phone up and climbed out the car when it pulled up to the driveway. Guards surrounded the home with guns strapped to their chest and when they saw Stephano they had nodded their head in respect.

"Let's go get that b***h!" He shouted as soon as he walked into his home. The man who he was on the phone with nodded his head, and he handed him a file before walking out the big home.

Stephano pulled it open to see his sister who had dyed her hair a black color, her eye color was changed by what seemed to be blue contacts, and what angered him most was her face. Memories washed over him, the ones where he used to play with his sister and laugh. The memories he held onto to when he wanted to let go.

"I need a team with me on an easy mission," He said into a watch he had on his wrist. "It's time to kill my sister."

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