"Cyrus, Maggie." Crest walked us through the door, letting both Maggie and I pass first. "We've already moved everything in, and added to it as needed. That includes wardrobe, furniture, and other utilities."
It hadn't been an apartment, it was just a very, very large house. If anything, it was too big for just the both of us. Glaring out of the corner of my eye, I'd been entirely suspicious of Crest. If he had wanted me to work for him, why put me in the most suspicious place possible - a house that most teenagers and young adults couldn't ever afford in their lifetime.
If someone did their research, they would've known that I hadn't come from money in the most literal sense. While Maggie had come from money, she nor her family had been quite this rich. It had been ridiculous to have something this big for us, for just the two of us. All we needed was an apartment that existed outside of that shithole, not a fucking mansion.
"Cyrus, turn around." Crest nearly ordered. "This is your team. Tech, finances, driver, and so forth. They will be listening to you, and are being paid nicely for it."
In front of me had stood a group of adults, varying from what was likely eighteen to thirty or so, possibly. All of them were older than me, and yet they would be willingly listening to me? Of course, in the sense of the job title I was the boss, but that hadn't meant they were going to listen to some punk like me. They must've been paid nicely, honestly. Otherwise they could have found better jobs elsewhere, not working for a kid.
"Cyrus, let's speak outside. Privately." Crest pointed to the door.
Dressed to the nines, Crest's pinstripe suit looked like something you'd see on a actor walking the red carpet - he had looked elite, just as powerful as he had likely been in the underworld. Following him through the doors had revealed a huge pool and backyard that was likely just as big as the house itself. The view had made itself known, with a beach that was likely only a 20 minute walk away along with an almost straight view of the sunset.
"We've tracked down and found the person who hit and killed Kylie Kelso." Crest lit a cigarette. "He's already been taken and is on his way to one of our warehouses. Should be here tomorrow afternoon or so. I kinda want to ask how you're going to kill him; fast and painless, or slow and painful? From a revenge aspect, both have their bonuses. I kinda prefer the latter, though, if I'm being honest."
"I'll make him beg for forgiveness." I grinned as the light breeze had blown my hair over my face. "Then I'll cut him limb by fucking limb - alive."
It had been obvious why Below Zero was at the top of the criminal world. Crest hadn't flinched or stuttered at all when he spoke of torture versus mercy killings, but had actually spoken of his preferences. He'd killed before, and killed plenty at that. Yet, that hadn't appeared to be his final mission. What was his end game, his final result? Where did he want to go with Below Zero?
"I figured I was going to have to teach you some lessons, guess not." Crest looked into distance. "I'm going to tell you something that nobody knows, and nobody will know until it happens, clear?"
I nodded.
"The police are after me and Below Zero. They want to take our empire down, only to further feed the rich money. However, I've been placing money in various industries and in the growth of them. These smaller companies like Bitcoin and such are starting to bloom and spread their wings, just like you. I plan to drop the criminal side of Below Zero, and creating a fully clean empire for us." Crest turned around, taking a drag of the cigarette. "Unfortunately, they have a very minimal amount of evidence on me within the drug world. So, I have a plan set in place - once word drops that I've been arrested everyone but the financial side of Below Zero will be paid a lump sum and will disperse. I want to pass Below Zero down onto you, Cyrus. You'll be the face of the new, clean Below Zero."
I almost laughed out of surprise, unbelieving of what he was saying at every angle I put it. Why me? What reason did he have for passing such a large investment down onto me, a punk kid with no future and a brain for drugs? If it had been me, I was only going to fuck things up. That much was obvious to anyone who had known me. Crest stood straight, firm while looking at me as he had quite clearly indicated his seriousness.
"Why me? You have to have someone better." I questioned his motives.
"Below Zero's beginnings were created by your father, Eric Jacobson. Before the police had come after him, he gave me a general plan to fulfill for Below Zero. He is currently part of the reason why Below Zero is as successful as it is now." Crest answered. "The plan your father set for Below Zero ends around here. Much like your father had chosen me, I want to choose a worthy heir, and you Cyrus are one that I see myself in. Myself aside, who better to run Below Zero than the son of it's founder?"
"Don't compare me to my dad." I shot a glare at him. "That shit pisses me off."
How much of that had actually been true? Hadn't my dad worked for Goliath, another criminal organization? Actually, could that have been a temporary fake name for him to ditch when he got caught and had to run? Why had he done all of that when he knew he had a family to take care of, why had he done that when he knew he wold leave his family broke? Had Crest been full of shit, or had been telling the full truth?
Even if I hadn't trusted him as far as I could throw him, I hadn't smelt bullshit coming off of him at all. Either he had confidence behind his lies, or the truth had been all there right in front of me. I had been the child of a former criminal syndicate leader. While my dad hadn't been anything scary in the looks department, a 4.0 GPA at an Ivy League school had said more than needed about his intelligence. He was playing chess while most were playing checkers.
It hadn't been until someone better than him challenged him to a game of metaphorical chess that he had been forced to run. He had been challenged and beat by someone on the police force, and someone smart - or lucky. Even as a kid, I could clearly see that my father had been thinking at a mile a minute with several different things going on in his head. It had impressed me to no end, I had been proud to say he was my father, and I was pleased to say that my father had been brilliant.
Then it had all come crashing down in a nightmarish fashion. One afternoon he had come home quickly to grab something, and then said goodbye to my mother and I as he left again. At the time, I hadn't equated his strong, long hug to a goodbye. Hours later, the door had been broken down and the FBI had been searching the apartment, which had soon been followed by the DEA and ATF.
A torrent of news outlets, media, and even neighbors had drilled into us. Things had been thrown at our house, people said we were horrible for selling drugs and weapons, and gave us judging looks constantly. We had never done anything wrong, and yet we had been paired with him, blamed with him. The only thing we hadn't done with him, or for him, was go to prison. We hadn't been involved and therefore couldn't have been charged for anything he did.
"Fine." I looked back into the house to see Maggie. "I'm only doing it to secure a future for myself, and her."
"You're young, Cyrus. So, if you ever just want to take a long break from this to grow up, I'll understand. As such, I've deposited a very large sum of money into your bank account through legitimate means for you to do with as you please." Crest spoke softly enough for only me to hear. "Below Zero is just as much mine as it is yours, I'm here to teach you and let you be. So, come and go as you please, but be ready to come when we need you."
"Got it."
**
Dressed in black as warned by Crest, I stepped into the warehouse where I had found the rest of my team sitting at a table playing poker or some other card came while a naked man had sat tied to a chair that rested directly in the middle of the warehouse, or so it had seemed. Heading over to the table, I tossed a few hundreds down and looked around at them as they waited for an answer.
I turned heading back to a half-naked man in the chair, covered by a black bag. "Disappear for a little bit."
Listening for their steps, it hadn't been long before they had all exited the warehouse - except for one. I could hear a light, feminine breath at the table, but had not taken the time to turn and see which one had stayed behind despite what I had ordered. What had been her reason for staying? My own safety, perhaps? As I finally approached the man, I ripped the black bag off of his head.
"Ewww!" I heard her laugh hysterically. "Is that the one who killed your girlfriend, Mr. Kingpin?"
"Did Crest tell you?"
"No. It's too easy to hack police stations and hospitals, you know? I found that out in like five minutes, if that." she grinned. "Crest told me to keep an eye on you, though. Anyway, go on. Let it all out and just pretend I'm not here."
She had been a bit of an oddball, it seemed. Who had laughed at an old man tied down to a chair? Someone who hadn't quite been all there in the mental department. That's who, I suppose. Clearly, however, she had been good enough to take on the job - and stable enough to know what she was supposed to be doing. She had been hired for good reason, and I suppose I had to trust Crest's opinion on this one.
Ripping off the tape on his mouth, I asked him a simple question to start. "Did you hit a teenage girl? If you lie, you feel pain. It's that simple."
"No." he wildly shook his head, as though it had been enough to convince me that he hadn't done it.
Within seconds of his lie, I had drilled my thumb into his eye and continued to drill deeper as he shrieked in what had clearly been the most pain he had ever felt - imagine Spongebob on helium for a good comparison. I pulled my thumb back out and waited for him to calm down once again, until he had become silent. Stepping back, I waited for him to look up. It had pretty obviously been him, but I had wanted to hear him say it. I was going to keep hurting him until I heard those words, and then I would hurt him more afterwards.
"Talk."
"No, I sw-"
I had done the same thing again, drilling my thumb into his left eye. This time, however, I had went much deeper - until I had felt something of a popping sensation. Had his eyeball just popped? Suddenly, blood had come pouring out around my finger and was emphasized by a healthy, ever so womanly screeching. He had sounded like hyena at that point, and the only other noise that could be heard was the hackers laughing. Had she been getting a kick out of this?
"Talk." I ordered. "Or it'll be your nostrils next."
"F-F-F...Fine. Yes, I hit a girl who ran into the middle of the road." he stuttered.
He had began convulsing like he was having a seizure - and for his sake, I had hoped he was actually having one. It would have meant less pain for him and less revenge for me. I hadn't wanted to do this, yet I had wanted to do this. I wanted to see him in just as much pain as he put Kylie through. I wanted to see him cry the same way I had, I wanted to see him suffer the same way I had. I wanted to see him drown in the darkness the same way I had.
I grinned.
"Thanks."
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