BL Novels

Once more, Jaesung found himself in a predicament he doubted he could escape from. The scent of gunpowder overwhelmed his senses, polluting his lungs. The sheer effort required to breathe consumed him, leaving no capacity for other actions or feelings, the wall in his mind too high to climb.

Again, he had watched someone die. Even though he didn’t pull the trigger himself, he might as well have—they wanted him to. Luis would have lived another day if he hadn’t shown up. The watch on his wrist seared like hot iron, yet he couldn’t bring himself to look at it.

He had no right to.

The scent of blood was overpowering, saturating the air and devastating all his senses, rendering him unable to think clearly. As he gazed at the ground, a trail of blood encircled his shoes. His mouth watered, and he had to avert his gaze promptly to ease the nausea rising in his stomach.

All he could think was Luis. Luis. Luis.

“Jaesung.”

Calloused hands found their way on both sides of his face, forcing him to stare straight at Luca. The jerk of his head made his neck crack.

“Hate me. Loathe me. Think of ways to kill me like I did Luis, imagine doing them to me. Do what you have to do to stay sane, but don’t lose yourself to the darkness.” Luca let his hands fall. “This world isn’t for the weak.”

A lot of words were trying to find their way out of his mouth. The fuck you and why and why and why were the loudest. But none of them made it out, neither could find their voice.

It was fucked up, but Jaesung found comfort in those words.

“I sent some men to kill the rest and take in Benito.” Luca twirled the gun around in his hand effortlessly. “I’ll get your statements later.”

“What I sent you was sufficient enough to move forward, I assume?” Giovanni asked.

“Perfect.” He paused, halting his movements. “However, I need to hear the rest directly from Jaesung.”

Jaesung raised his head. He understood the need to meet Luca’s gaze, to show his strength beyond this moment, to validate something. Even if the nature of that ‘something’ was unclear to him. Yet, the pain blooming in his chest seemed to intensify as he looked upon the young leader’s face.

“As soon as we get out of here.”

“I’ll go ready the car,” said Giovanni.

“Don’t forget to turn on the air. I’m breaking into a sweat over here.”

There was a moment of silence when the door shut. For a brief second, there was emptiness, devoid of feelings, thoughts, or emotions. But it was fleeting, as Jaesung soon felt the surge of anger, regret, and pain rising within him. It consumed him suddenly, akin to a car crash, bringing with it suffering, denial, remorse, and an all-encompassing sense of grief.

He felt a devastating urge to scream at the top of his lungs.

He yearned to lash out, to smash his fist into glass, to experience the sting and slashes and burn on his skin, just to feel something, anything at all.

His hands were shaking.

Once again, his eyes met Luca’s, whose gaze he had felt on him the whole time. It was then the emotions poured; the anger gushing out like ocean water hitting the sand during a storm. His legs propelled him forward to confront the one who was responsible for all of it.

Jaesung was prepared to abandon everything: his life, the money his grandparents relied on, the friends who had become like family, and his position in the mafia.

“Jaesung.”

Luca held fast and put his hands on Jaesung’s shoulders, gripping them tightly, giving him the pain he needed to wake himself from the anger that wanted to explode.

“Giovanni is my right-hand man, and you are now the left.”

And it was at that moment that Jaesung broke.

“Hate me, use me, but don’t forget who we are. We are the mafia; the Maniaco.”