At the lobby, a man walked up to Daniel and bowed. He wore a manager's tag on his chest, identifying him as the hotel manager.
"Sir," the manager said. "I have erased it like you asked."
Daniel did not respond immediately. He stood still, his dark eyes fixed somewhere beyond the manager's shoulder. The silence stretched, thin and fragile.
Then he nodded once. A small, dismissive movement.
He turned and walked away.
The manager remained bowed until Daniel had disappeared through the revolving doors. Only then did he straighten his back and exhale. He knew he had been acknowledged. A wave of satisfaction washed over him. Daniel Viggo had asked him personally to erase the hotel's surveillance footage of him carrying Lina back to her room. The manager did not know why. He did not care. He had just earned Mr. Viggo's approval. That was all that mattered.
Daniel sat in the backseat of his car, resting his head against the leather. The city lights of Merra flickered past the tinted windows, casting brief shadows across his face. A deep frown carved lines into his forehead.
He was pissed.
Liam, who sat in the driver's seat, kept the car moving steadily through the evening traffic. He knew Daniel was angry. He could feel it radiating from the backseat like heat from an engine. Liam was afraid to breathe too loudly. He knew a single mistake could cost him his life.
He glanced at Daniel's face from the rearview mirror. He thought about the fact that Daniel was supposed to be at his own engagement today but was not. Daniel had texted him at midnight, telling him to book a flight to Merra. They were leaving early this morning. His engagement day.
He had been trying to report to Daniel, to tell him what his absence had caused back at home. But he could not. Not with Daniel looking like this. He would be throwing away his own life if he said anything about the engagement right now.
Liam brought the car to a smooth stop outside the Bar. They were back at the bar. He got out, walked around, and opened the door for Daniel.
Daniel got out without a word. He walked straight into the bar, moving through a secret passageway that led to a quiet area, far away from the loud noise of the main floor. The space was large, and dimly lit. The walls were soundproofed, swallowing any noise that might try to escape. With only a throne-like chair, upholstered in dark leather at the head of the room. It looked like a throne.
Three men were lying on the floor, tied up. They were the men from the meeting.
Daniel walked past them without looking down. He moved to the chair and sat down. The leather creaked under his weight.
A man stepped out of the shadows. Tino.
Tino Marchetti was Daniel's head of security. A man of few words and precise movements. He had been with Daniel for over a decade. He was tall, silent, and completely without mercy. In certain circles, his name was spoken in whispers. He was what the underworld called a cleaner—a man who made problems disappear.
He moved silently across the room, his footsteps making no sound on the concrete floor. He knelt beside the nearest bound man and cut the cloth binding his ankles. Then he pulled him to his feet by his collar.
The man was the bearded one. The one who had attacked Lina.
He looked almost unrecognizable. His face was swollen, his left eye nearly closed. His clothes were torn. Dried blood caked the side of his head. His only open eye was wild with fear.
Tino grabbed him by the back of the neck and shoved him forward to Daniel's feet. The bearded man landed hard on the floor. He quickly scrambled to his knees. His bound hands pressed together as if in prayer. His voice was high with terror, cracking at the edges.
"I'm sorry," he begged. "Please forgive me, sir. Mr. Viggo. Please spare me."
Daniel said nothing. He sat in the chair, completely still. His face was cold. Unreadable.
Liam moved closer to Daniel, he reached into his jacket and withdrew a dagger. The blade was curved, honed to a razor edge, polished, and deadly. He handed it to Daniel.
Daniel took it and spun it slowly around his finger, watching the light catch the steel. He played with it like it was a toy.
The man kept begging. Words tumbled out of him in a desperate flood. Promises. Apologies. Pleas for mercy.
Daniel said nothing. For a long moment, he acted as if the man did not exist. As if he did not hear. He continued spinning the dagger, his expression unreadable.
Then he spoke.
"What was your offense?"
His voice was calm. Almost conversational. As if he were asking about the weather. That made it even more terrifying.
The bearded man froze. He was not even sure what his offense was. His mouth opened and closed. He thought it had to be because of his dirty work at the company. His mind raced through every crime, every betrayal, every dirty deal. He had been skimming from the company accounts. He had taken bribes from competitors. He had sold information to people who should not have had it. He assumed this was about the company. It had to be. What else could it be?
He was sure Daniel had found out he had been stealing from the company.
If he had known they would catch him, he would never have done it. He would have been honest. He would have kept his hands clean.
"I stole from the company," he said, his voice shaking. "I took money. I am sorry. I will pay it back. Every cent. Please. Just let me live."
Daniel tilted his head slightly. His eyes finally moved to the man's face.
"You stole," he repeated.
"Yes. Yes. I stole. I am sorry. I am so sorry."
Daniel was quiet for a moment. Then he stood up.
The man flinched.
Daniel took one long stride and kicked him in the chest.
The impact was brutal. The man flew backward, his body arching through the air before slamming onto the concrete floor, landing a few feet away, leaving a smear of blood behind him. His back hit the hard ground. Blood spilled from his mouth.
He gasped for air, but Daniel did not give him time to recover.
Daniel walked toward him. His steps were unhurried. Deliberate. The heels of his leather boots clicked against the floor.
He stopped when he stood over the man. He looked down at him. Then he raised his foot and brought his boot down on the man's chest, pressing down.
The man cried out.
"Which finger goes first?" Daniel asked.
He did not wait for an answer.
He crouched down, grabbed the man's left hand, and placed the dagger at the base of his thumb and sliced off the man's thumb with the dagger.
The man screamed.
The sound was raw. Animal. It echoed off the soundproofed walls, trapped in the room with nowhere to go.
Daniel did not stop.
He worked methodically, without hurry, without mercy. One finger at a time. The man's screams filled the room, but Daniel's face never changed.
The man's hand was a ruin now. Blood pooled on the concrete. The severed fingers lay scattered like fallen petals.
Daniel did not stop until all Ten fingers on the man's hand were severed.
The man's screams grew weaker. His voice was hoarse, worn down to a ragged whisper. He was losing blood. His body was starting to shut down.
The other two bound men watched from the floor. Their eyes were wide. Their bodies trembled. They could not look away. They watched as their friend was being taken apart piece by piece. They feared their own fate.
Liam watched from the corner. Mr. Viggo was annoyed. He was taking things into his own hands, which was unusual. The Daniel Liam knew would have watched from the throne. He would have told instructed them of what to do. He would have sat back and just watched, his expression bored, as always.
But not tonight.
Tonight, Daniel was doing it himself.
And all of this was because the man had touched Lina. Not because he stole from the company. The branch these men operated was so small, so insignificant, that the Viggo family had turned a blind eye to it. They had ignored it. It was probably forgotten that it even existed. What the man had been stealing was not even worth noticing. He could have taken money for years, and no one would have cared.
But here he was. Having Daniel Viggo personally remove his fingers.
Liam nodded to himself, a small movement that no one noticed as if he had just discovered something important. This meant Lina was important to Daniel. Very important.
Daniel finally stood up. He looked down at the man on the floor. His expression was still unreadable.
The bearded man was barely conscious, his hands reduced to bloody stumps.
Daniel still was not satisfied.
He crouched again and cut off both wrists. The man did not even scream anymore. He had nothing left to give.
He stood up and stepped back.
Tino walked to Daniel and handed him a clean handkerchief. Daniel wiped the blood from his hands, his movements slow and deliberate. The white cloth turned red.
He threw the handkerchief down on the floor beside the man.
He looked at the man coldly. His eyes held no emotion. No pity. No regret.
"Clean this up," he said.
He said without looking back as he walked out.
He got into his car and went back to the hotel.