Death…Who would've thought that at the age of thirty I would be staring it at the face. I had so may dreams and aspirations. Fantasies I've yet to fulfill. Money to spend and women to fuck. I was just starting to enjoy the fruits of my hard earned, all be it illegal, wealth. But instead of lounging under the sun on the beach in the Bahamas, here I am hands tied behind my back, knees bent on a dirty floor, in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of fucking nowhere, with a gun being held on my forehead.
Sweating bullets and looking around my surroundings, hoping to find redemption….all I see are the other useless FBI and US Marshall agents who are also in the same predicament as I am. Agents who promised me my safety in exchange for my testimony against the biggest and most brutal Mafia Don in the country. And what do I get for my most generous contribution?...DEATH!
My name is James Flannigan and this is my story.
Standing in front of me, holding a Glock to my forehead is Isabella Swan. The so called other witness. A victim, a real innocent. That's my opinion at least. And behind him the man himself. His arms wrapped around Isabella, goading her and whispering in her ear whatever it is that monsters whispers in the ear of their slaves is Edward Masen. The green eyed monster. And I don't mean jealousy…I mean a real monster wrapped with good looks and the greenest set of eyeballs I've ever seen.
Edward Masen. I have to admit the man is one of a kind. A product of the marriage between an Italian mob princess and an Irish Don. It was the time when the Russians were trying to take over that the Italians and the Irish decided to combine forces and crush their one common enemy. I grew up with the man. I was older by a couple of years but that doesn't mean anything in my world. Edward is the chosen one by virtue of birth. Although I would be a fool to think that he had it easy. He was trained from a very young age to be ruthless. I've seen his own father torture him to test his worth. He made his first kill when he was 13. We were all made to witness the bloodbath that day. Children our age.
Being the son of an accountant with the Irish Mafia, I was never required to spill blood. Even if I am already a made man, my duties lie on keeping the numbers. Making sure that every income earned is safe and untraceable. Keeping the legal and not so legal income separated and itemized.
Shaun Flannigan, my father, was well respected by both Italians and the Irish. Not only because my father was a wizard with handling the Mafia's money but also of his loyalty and making the supreme sacrifice in the name of the family. About a decade ago, the FBI got a wind of my fathers activities and was about to be arrested. With warrants in hand and the cavalry in his doorsteps, he burned his office with all the incriminating evidence and shot himself in front of the arresting agents rather than be taken in. His last words were "My life for my own!" The agents may have been baffled by this declaration but not the Family. We all knew what he meant. That he was giving his life for his family…the MAFIA. After that moment, the Flannigans were set for life. And when they discovered that I have inherited my fathers talent for shuffling numbers, I was immediately absorbed into the fold.
And the pay was, how do I put it in words….totally awesome!
And life went on. The Russians were crushed. Like I said, Edward was ruthless. Looking into his eyes, sometimes I feel like looking through the devils' eyes himself. Edward is well educated and very cunning. It's rare that he acts in anger. Everything is well calculated with his actions. Anything from approving a simple drug transaction to choosing the women he fucks. And that is where Isabella Swan came into the picture.
Isabella is the girl that Edward own. Being as cautious and in effect as paranoid as he is, he has developed a liking for owning sex slaves. He wouldn't just screw any random girl. Not even girls of standing in the Family doesn't appeal to him. He hated the way these women throw themselves at him. He knew the reason behind this. As good looking and as powerful as he is, I really can't blame the man. Being articulate with a great sense of fashion doesn't hurt either. Hell, to be honest, I envy the man. That's probably the reason why I'm in this hell of a mess to begin with. The envy and jealousy for the man. But I digress.
Edward buys his women. No, not prostitutes, but women who were kidnapped and sold to the highest bidder. He always makes sure that these women are clean and safe. And then he trains them. It's more like breaking them, actually. He has his particular taste of copulating and he makes sure that his slaves gets everything right. Control is his main motivation for this. No woman lasted longer than two months. It's a vicious cycle really. He buys them, he breaks them and then throws them away. And he is very picky of his acquisitions. That's why all these years he's only had 10 slaves all in all. He started this pattern when he reached 21. And now that he is 28, I would say that's picky.
All these changed when a year ago Edward came home with a very naked, tied up and tear streaked face woman. Isabella.