The two men cowered in fear, no doubt knowing what awaited them. Still, they didn't beg for their lives, or seek to run away. They'd known what they were signing up for from the beginning.
Ronan could respect the fact that they'd decided to go to their death with dignity, and that thought kept him from going all out. After all, there was quite an impressive collection of weapons displayed on his wall.
He pictured himself taking one of the long swords, cutting them to pieces. It might be satisfying to assuage the thirst for blood that one picture awakened in him. It was, however, not what he needed to ensure that everyone realized he wasn't joking around when he assigned jobs.
He'd taken such care in selecting the perfect men to watch over his pet, yet it hadn't worked out. Alex strode in, a couple of men in black suits following behind him. Ronan gave him brief instructions, after which he stepped back, lighting a cigarette and watching the ensuing spectacle.
The men in black were already taking hold of the two men, dragging them towards the window.
It was the thirtieth floor, so Ronan imagined it would be quite the fall to reach the ground. And with his window already broken, leaving way for his men to hold the two failures over the edge, it was only a matter of giving the signal now. They were being held tightly right on the edge, the danger of falling making them scream at the top of their lungs in fear.
Ronan shook his head. And he'd thought they'd die with dignity.
He'd always thought made men knew what they signed up for when they entered a life of crime. He thought they realized what it meant to work under him. He'd made everything clear when he'd killed people left and right, cleansing the famiglia from the inside out. When they'd sworn allegiance to him they'd known he wasn't lenient towards failure, and he was certainly not forgiving. If anything, his disposition bordered on the unnaturally maniac and vengeful. Certainly, with his tough beginnings in his position, he had a reputation to uphold.
If you slipped, you died. It was as simple as that.
"Alex," Ronan spoke, his voice steady for the first time since he'd seen the photo. "Start a timer. I want to know who crashes first," he said, nodding to the two men teetering on the edge.
Alex grunted, and at Ronan's signal, the two men were flung down at the same time. Alex ' hand was on the timer, and soft sounds signaled the crash.
"Leo was first, but only by a millisecond," he reported back.
"Good. Make it public that fatties crash faster to the ground. And if anyone thinks to neglect their positions again, they can explain it to me with their brains scattered on the pavement."
"The police will be here soon," Alex continued, looking down at the mess down on the ground.
"I trust you'll handle it," he paused, looking around the room. "Get a cleaning crew in here too. And do replace the glass. Something more durable next time," Ronan spared him one last look before he took his coat, breezing past the door and heading to his car.