Dante

I felt the heat of the bullet as it passed by my head, shattering the glass of the window behind me. Some shards fell on me as I rolled for cover, still holding the gun in my hand. I looked the other way and searched for Ivan with my eyes.

He was crouched behind a huge barrel of fuel. I looked at him and frowned—what the hell was he doing? He stood up quickly to come to my side, then fired several shots into the dangerous contents and lunged with me as it caused a huge explosion. In the meantime, we took cover behind some large metal containers.

The Russians had ambushed us early that morning. I did not understand why, since I had dealings with the head of their organization. Of course, after this event, I was going to investigate this matter very thoroughly and get to the bottom of what caused all this trouble.

I had several allies in the mafia, almost everywhere in the world. It didn’t help them or me that we were enemies, since I delivered shipments of weapons and drugs to them just as they delivered other kinds of merchandise to me. We also handled money laundering.

“You see that?” I pointed to a metal ladder a few meters away. “Climb up,” I ordered, “I’ll cover you.”

He looked at the ladder and then at me.

“I think it’s a stupid idea. You go ahead, and I’ll cover you.”

“Go! That’s a fucking order!” I shouted in annoyance. This idiot always went against me, especially when something like this happened.

Ivan grunted, but he moved and looked at me to wait for my signal. I nodded my head. As soon as he came out from behind the container, I stood up to shoot. I distracted them and took them by surprise. That’s how I was able to hit two of them, making them fall to the ground. In the meantime, another one managed to shoot at me. I crouched down and took a look at Ivan, who was almost finished climbing the stairs. They noticed my friend and started shooting at him. I took advantage of the fact that they were focused on him and aimed at one of them, quickly taking him down. They turned back towards me to attack again. I hit one in the leg and another in the side. When they fell, I jumped out from behind the container, ran as fast as I could, and climbed the stairs. When I got to the top, I heard more gunshots. Ivan was fighting two guys. As I crept closer, I saw my friend fall to his knees.

“Ivan!” I shouted, not caring if they heard me.

As I approached him, I noticed the blood spreading down his shirt. At that moment, I heard footsteps. I turned quickly to shoot until they fell. I took off my shirt and put pressure on Ivan’s wound.

The sound of a helicopter made me raise my head. It was ours. They were late arriving. At that moment, I saw out of the corner of my eye that another guy was coming up the stairs. I grabbed my friend with my other arm to help him stand up and leaned him against me so we could walk together toward the rope that was thrown to us. The helicopter couldn’t go any lower because of where we were. For that reason, we had to hang on to the rope. The problem was that Ivan didn’t have much strength, as the wound was bleeding profusely, and he looked pale. I was able to lift him so that he could hang on. I didn’t know how long he could hold on.

As soon as we were hanging from the rope, the helicopter ascended and flew away from the site. The men who had climbed up to the roof shot at us, but their poor aim showed, as none of them hit us. They lifted the rope to help us up. I passed them my friend’s arm, which they helped pull up first. Once up, the first thing I did was check his wound. He was getting paler and paler and was in a cold sweat. He had lost a lot of blood—I could see it on the shirt I had pressed against his wound, which was still dripping.

“Brother, talk to me,” I asked him. I didn’t want him to fall asleep, so I needed to distract him. “Look at me. We made it, as usual. We’ll be home soon,” I told him as his eyes started to close. “Hurry up!” I shouted to those in charge of taking us.

Minutes later, we arrived at the location where we had one of our clandestine clinics. We couldn't go to any hospital or anything like that, especially not in this country. We were outside Italy.

Here in Russia, we had an illegal medical service, but given the situation, we couldn't stay any longer, so I rushed the doctors to treat him as quickly as possible.

The doctors informed me that it was just a bullet graze and that the serious issue was that he had lost a lot of blood. That was what weakened him. They gave him a transfusion. Since he was still unconscious, I would take him to the plane on one of the stretchers while they continued to give him blood, as much as he needed. We had to leave immediately.

There was no other way; we had to do it if we didn’t want another shootout. I asked one of the doctors to lend me one of his nursing staff and assured him that I would bring them back safe and sound once my friend was stable.

Once on the plane, as we ascended, I began to relax a bit. I sat down in one of the seats near Ivan's stretcher. It had always been like this. When one of us was between life and death, we took care of him. That, and much more, was what made our friendship unique and faithful after all these years of knowing each other.

He was my childhood friend. His father had worked for many years for my father, and now he worked for me while his father continued to work. The difference between Edgardo and his son was that Edgardo was no longer able to go through the motions like we did. He mostly took care of the business, the finances, and all that shit, while we handled the dirtier and more dangerous work.

I wasn't afraid of death. I always said that if it was my turn, it was because it was my turn. I was aware of the world I was in and what I was doing. I knew that sooner or later, I would die from a fucking bullet.

This is my origin, the legacy left by my father. I was born for this. It wasn't something I could give up as if it were just a job. Besides, it was what I loved to do most. I loved to watch the blood of my enemies spill, to feel it running through my hands as they begged for their lives.

That's why they called me the Devil. I feared nothing. I wasn't afraid of losing anything because I had nothing—only this shitty world. I knew that after I died, nothing would follow me, and whatever I had today would be taken by others.

I only enjoyed the adrenaline rush when a bullet shot out and hit my adversary. I always took advantage of every moment of my life with what I liked the most and in my own way. Women, alcohol, and fights were the best for me. I loved to fight, so I participated in bare-knuckle boxing matches.

There was a place I would go to on Saturday nights. I would go there to drink and fight. I had plenty of women. Every day I had a different one in my lap, and we would have wild sex wherever the lust would allow. I was a man who enjoyed rough, unceremonious sex; fucking was one of my favorite activities. I didn't like to repeat it with the same woman. It was rare for that to happen. I didn’t like them getting infatuated and then wanting those fucking things called commitments.

I wasn't the kind of guy who would sweet-talk them to win them over and make them fall in love. My only goal was to get them into bed and have sex for just one night, if it was good. If not, it was their loss. I didn’t like begging, much less a one-night stand. I never forced them.

If they were willing, I would make sure they enjoyed the whole night until they were completely satisfied, but only by fucking them. The girls brought to me for service were for my men. They were women who chose to be there. Their only task was to carry out orders and do their job. Even if their labor was coerced, I would never force them to be with me.

It wasn’t something I needed to do, as they came to me on their own. And speaking of women, the flight attendant had already been offering herself to me for some time. I won't deny that she's attractive. She's in for a treat, that gorgeous blonde.

But I wasn’t in the habit of messing with the staff that worked for me, especially if they were good at their jobs. If I did, I’d have to fire them. I ignored her, but I figured my weakness for women would bring me down one of these days. I dreaded the thought that I would soon lose a good employee. Well, no one was indispensable in this rotten world.