Pretending to Be an Untouchable Crime Boss-Chapter 82 : Dramatic Effect.

Both of them had their own reasons for not speaking.

Ferucci was scared because James didn't say anything, he just stared at him. Meanwhile, James was speechless because of how Ferucci looked.

This psychopath motherfucker looks better than me…

"James?" Ferucci said his name, his gaze fixed on the ground as he stepped closer.

"Uh… sit down." James pointed at the chair.

As Ferucci sat down, James became even more flabbergasted. Ferucci looked at him with a faint smile, his white teeth gleaming slightly. It was kind of embarrassing.

"...So where were you…?" He shifted uncomfortably as Ferucci continued to stare at him with the same expression.

"I am terribly sorry for my actions, James…" His smile faded as he looked down. "I abandoned you when you needed me the most. I was nowhere near you when you were at your lowest…"

Then after saying it he immediately pulled out a knife and placed his left hand on the desk.

"Please forgive me."

He pressed the knife down on his pinky finger, but—

"Fuck are you doing?!" James shouted, moving fast. He grabbed Ferucci's right hand and knocked the knife.

"I failed you, James…" His voice was quiet. "I wasn't there when you needed me. I left you alone when I should have stood by your side. And now… what am I, really?" His fingers trembled slightly. "A useless man trying to return as if nothing happened."

"And you think cutting off your damn finger fixes that?"

Ferucci let out a chuckle, shaking his head. "No… but at least it would have been something." He looked up at James. "I trust you, James. I respect you more than anything. But what's the point if I can't even prove that to you?"

"You're a real idiot, you know that?" He leaned forward. "If you really respect me, then stop this bullshit. I don't need you to prove anything by hurting yourself. I need you to be here. To stand with me."

Ferucci stared at him"…You'd still have me?".

"You were always here, idiot. You just took the long way back."

Ferucci looked down at his hands.

"Fuck… to be honest, I almost pissed myself, cutting down my own finger…kinda scary."

"Then why the fuck did you try it in the first place?"

Ferucci leaned back in his chair, stretching his fingers as if confirming they were all still there. "Dramatic effect? I mean, if I walked in here and just said 'Sorry, James,' would that have been enough?"

"Yeah. It would've been."

"Oh… then forget about it. Sorry, James." He said it as if, just moments ago, he hadn't been ready to cut off his own finger.

This guy is more than a maniac…

As he thought that, he picked up the knife from the table. The weight was perfect, balanced.

It was a knife James had never seen before.

"It's a Damascus knife." Ferucci said, as he pulled out another one. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

James ran his thumb along the flat of the blade. "Yeah…it's pretty.'

The craftsmanship was undeniable. "But why do you need two?"

Ferucci spun the second knife between his fingers. "When I was a butcher, I always carried two. One for precise cuts…and one for the organs, heart, lungs, kidneys, things like that."

James froze mid motion, his fingers going still against the blade. He slowly placed the knife back on the desk.

For a brief moment, he looked at his own hands.

He almost wanted to vomit.

"Are you okay?"

James exhaled, shaking off the feeling. "Yeah…anyway, tell me what happened with Takoi."

Ferucci's expression shifted instantly. His smile stretched wide. He even blushed slightly as he carefully placed the knife back in its sheath.

"Should I tell you all the details?"

Why am I even asking? There's already a report…

"Just the necessary ones." He said, already regretting this conversation.

For Ferucci, "necessary" meant every detail of his work on Takoi.

He straightened himself, adjusted his suit, and began speaking.

"I spied on him for a while and noticed his only security detail was two guys and a car. So, one night, when he was leaving a restaurant, I just walked up, shot the two guys, and pulled him out of the car." He gestured how he did it. "Of course, he fought back, but I knocked him out, dragged his ass to my car, and stuffed him in the trunk."

"And nobody saw it?"

"Oh, some people saw, but what could they do? Nothing."

James sighed. "Alright, continue."

Ferucci nodded. "Then I went and had a hamburger at—"

"Only the important parts."

"Right, sorry." He cleared his throat. "So, when I was full, I headed to the warehouse. But he was in the trunk for a bit too long, so I had to waterboard him to wake him up. After that, I injected some good stuff into him and got to work." His grin widened. "I picked a song, turned up the volume, and started the boogie."

Boogie…this man…

"His skin was kinda dried out, so I put some lotion on him, you know, to make him look nice. Then I started skin—"

"Skip that part."

Ferucci sighed, looking genuinely disappointed, as if he had really wanted to share that part.

"Fine. Anyway, he died somewhere in the middle of it, but I was happy to know he felt it for at least ten minutes. He was awake long enough to scream, so loud that I actually took out my earbuds to enjoy it." He chuckled..

James remained silent, staring at him.

"So, after that." Ferucci continued, dragging out the words dramatically, "I chopped him up, starting with his head. And well… that's it. I shipped his remains to different companies that supported him."

"And his head?"

"Oh, the best part." Ferucci's grin widened. "I actually did my work very well on his head. I packaged it nicely and shipped it to Carter, along with a gift card to that hamburger place I went to. You know, as a little bonus." He leaned back, chuckling as he slapped his knee."

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"And his organs?"

Ferucci shrugged, as if it were nothing. "Tossed them to the street dogs."

He's telling it like a fairytale to kids… He has no morals, but at least he's on my side…

James exhaled, trying to process everything. "After that, what else did you do? Bella said you were butchering people."

Ferucci waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, just some fucking street thugs who thought they could play around in our territory. But nothing much."

James narrowed his eyes. "Define 'nothing much.'"

"Just a little lesson. A few missing fingers, some… redecorating of their bodies, you know…art." He chuckled. "But don't worry,I didn't waste too much time on them. Just enough to make sure no one else gets any bright ideas."

"Ferucci…"

"Yes?" he asked, almost too cheerfully.

James sighed. "Never mind. Just keep things from getting messy."

"Messy is a matter of perspective, James."

"Yeah… but tell me, do you have a girlfriend or something?"

Ferucci hesitated for a second. "Not really…"

The way he said it was kinda sus…

"Are you into men? I don't judge."

"Hell nah!" Ferucci laughed, shaking his head. "I like women, but, you know…I kinda find it hard to talk to them. It's scary. What if they say no?"

You fucking butcher people, and you're scared of rejection?

"What about prostitutes?" James asked.

"They're filthy." Then, he tilted his head. "Why are you asking me this?"

James exhaled. "If you have too much stress and pressure, you need to relieve it somehow."

"Killing relieves it just fine." He said it fast.

Of course it does to you..

"Then why do you look like this?" His tone wasn't mocking, he genuinely wanted to hear the answer.

"Like this?" Ferucci glanced down at himself, as if trying to figure out what James meant. "Do I look bad?"

"No, you actually look good." James admitted, leaning back. "It's just surprising because you literally glowed up."

Ferucci blinked. "James…are you saying I'm handsome?"

"I'm saying you don't look like a half dead psycho anymore."

"I'll take that as a compliment. But seriously, you're right…I guess I do feel different."

James raised a brow. "Different how?"

Ferucci hesitated for a moment, his fingers drumming against the desk. "Maybe it's because I've been… thinking more."

"Thinking?"

"Yeah. About life, about… shit. About what I'm doing, where I am." His voice dropped slightly. "I always thought I'd die young, you know? I just realized… how much you changed my life. So I thought… I needed to start looking like a real Bellini. Somebody who turns heads, just like you."

"Just be careful. You can't be more handsome than me."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He laughed "But can't lie, I've been getting some looks lately."

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't let it go to your head."

"Too late for that." Then, his expression turned a bit more serious. "But really, I mean it. You gave me purpose."

"Then don't waste it doing dumb shit like cutting your fingers off, but anyway, you'll have another important job soon. Silas fucked with us."

"Oh?" He leaned forward slightly, his fingers tapping against the desk. "That's bold of him. Did he forget whose city this is?"

"Apparently, he needs a reminder, but we wait until he responds."

"Interesting.I'll wait. But when the time comes, I'll make sure he begs to regret it."

But Silas was already regretting it.