Dogs Among Withered Roses - Chapter 26

Unbelievable….

It was five days ago that he heard Russo Gucci, who had sent Berenice tumbling down the stairs, had been found at the port. Three days ago, he personally received Tony Pecci from Vincenzo Marino, the man who had handed over Valentiera Family information to Russo Gucci in order to rack up merit.

Having been told the purpose of keeping those two alive until now instead of killing them, and what he would see inside this container today, Erkin asked Armando, “Am I doing it?”

“No. You’re the one who watches and remembers.”

“….”

“Do you know what that means?”

“I do. A warning.”

Not stupid, huh. Armando muttered with a cigarette in his mouth and offered one to Erkin as well. Without refusing, Erkin lit it like Armando and stood silently behind him.

Armando tilted his head as if signaling to begin.

The soldato holding Russo Gucci and Tony Pecci by the hair shoved thick gray socks into each of their mouths. Their terrified sobs were swallowed by the crumpled fabric.

The two plucked chickens struggled, scraping the floor with their toes instead of screaming, as the soldato who had entered the container with Erkin dragged a long, heavy hammer toward them.

The moment Erkin flicked his finger to shake off ash, the soldato raised the hammer and swung it heavily at Russo Gucci’s left leg. The sound of the shin bone not just breaking but shattering into pieces rang through the container.

“The left leg and the right arm, right?”

“Yes.”

After breaking Russo’s left leg, the soldato swung the hammer again without hesitation. The right arm. The same arm Berenice had injured.

Armando frowned as if he were the one taking the blow and asked again, “Are you sure the ribs are fine?”

“Yes. Miraculously.”

“That’s a relief….”

A shame today, though. As if he wanted to break not just the ribs but every bone one by one, Armando’s profile carried that thought, and Erkin glanced at him before asking, “The lady wanted to take revenge herself. Is this acceptable?”

“No, it isn’t. But the boss won’t allow that.”

Crushing out the cigarette he hadn’t finished, Armando turned to him. The soldato, having finished with Russo Gucci, moved on to break Tony Pecci’s left leg and right arm as well.

“Berenice only knows how to fight. She’s never stained her hands with warm blood.”

“….”

“She’s always been like that, and she’ll stay that way. Anything else you’re curious about?”

“No.”

At Erkin’s clean answer, Armando smiled with satisfaction. Giving Russo and Tony, who could only let out muffled groans, a cursory glance as if looking at ants already crushed underfoot, he gestured for things to be wrapped up and stepped out.

Erkin, who was about to follow him, stopped slowly.

“There’s something you missed.”

“What did we miss?”

The soldato who had set down the hammer wiped his forehead and asked. Right arm, left leg… they had smashed everything Berenice had injured. Weren’t the ribs and everything else supposed to be fine?

With a cigarette in his mouth, Erkin tapped his temple lightly with his index finger.

“The head.”

“…Ah.”

“And the neck was cut, too.”

Right. She’d been cut with a knife as well. The soldato let out a small exclamation as if he had forgotten that. Reaching out to grab the hammer again, he looked up at Erkin.

“Want to do it?”

He held out the long handle of the hammer to Erkin, who didn’t answer.

“Don’t pretend otherwise. You’ve been looking at them like you wanted to smash them to death from the start. You almost made me piss myself.”

Erkin, holding the cigarette between his fingers, answered shortly, “I won’t refuse.”

“Figured you wouldn’t. What about the knife?”

Well, he must be hiding at least one on him. The soldato who had taken out a cigarette jerked his chin at the hammer as if telling him to do as he pleased. Bending down, Erkin firmly gripped Russo’s jaw and neck as he begged like a madman in terror.

And then, Erkin pressed the cigarette he was holding into Russo’s neck. With the smell of flesh burning in a small circle, Russo’s body trembled violently as if he were sitting in an electric chair.

“Don’t kill him.”

After pushing the extinguished cigarette into his drooling mouth, Erkin straightened his body. His gloved hand slowly wrapped around the handle of the hammer.

“I won’t kill him.”

Rather than killing him in one blow, it was better to watch him go mad, begging for death instead.

The heavy iron head of the hammer lifted high toward the ceiling.

***

Erkin, who had bought small jellies and candies that were easy to eat with one hand, carefully set the rustling paper bag on the bedside table.

If the doctor or nurse found out, they would nag him endlessly, but she wasn’t a patient who had to be careful with everything she put in her mouth just because she had a mild concussion and couldn’t freely use her limbs. Taking off his fedora and tidying his hair, Erkin walked toward Berenice.

The woman was sleeping deeply, as if it were the middle of the night.

What time is it? Noticing the red marks from injections on her exposed forearm above the blanket, Erkin lightly raised his brow. Recalling Michele’s message that she would skip lunch again or eat late, he quietly pulled a chair closer without making a sound.

Her limbs, fixed so she wouldn’t move in her sleep, and her body loosely laid on the bed tilted slightly upward looked worn out, as if she had tossed and turned all night without proper rest.

In truth, this face wasn’t new today either. Out of the ten days Berenice had been hospitalized, the number of days he had seen her awake was only the first four.

Erkin, who had been staring blankly at the woman’s sleeping face for exactly the sixth day, swallowed a dry laugh.

Berenice, who had been watching his expression every minute for days and acting on edge around him, was irritating enough, but the avoidance she chose as a second option, this sleep, wasn’t any more welcome.

Don’t watch me. Don’t stay up all night and then take a sedative right when my shift starts…. If he wanted to say something, she should at least be awake so he could say it to her face.

Whether her eyes were open or closed, she stirred him up all the same. She kept repeating this because she didn’t know that….

If she snapped at him in her usual way and harshly questioned why he hadn’t properly carried out his protection duties, it might even feel better. But when she opened her eyes, it felt like she would look at him again with those guilt‑soaked eyes, and nothing about that sat well with him.

Erkin ran a hand over his face, recalling how she had looked when Ricardo struck him, her face drained pale with fear.

Why did she have to look at him with that same face from fifteen years ago….

No matter how he thought about it, this was unfair. She should’ve just shown him that beautiful face along with her arrogant, self‑centered, foul temper. What is this now, all of a sudden?

Erkin wanted Berenice to show only the kind of face befitting a mafia member. He wanted her to show a face with no hesitation, no guilt, no remorse when committing crimes. So that he, too, could use her and betray her in the end without hesitation or guilt.

So showing that kind of weak face was cheating.

Ten days was enough endurance. There was no patience left to carve away, no thoughts left to swallow down and endure. Erkin, who had been staring only at Berenice, narrowed his eyes sharply.

Should I just pretend I’ve lost my mind and throw water on her to wake her up? It’d be effective, but the moment she opened her eyes, it felt like he’d be stuffed straight into a coffin.

As he seriously considered how to wake her in a way that wouldn’t cause trouble, a faint crease formed between Erkin’s brows. The woman, who seemed to be in deep sleep with steady breathing, suddenly frowned as if having a bad dream.

Thinking it might be because of the sunlight falling across her face, Erkin leaned his body toward the bed. The moment he raised his hand to cover her face and block the sunlight—

Berenice’s eyes snapped open.

“….”

“….”

Noticing the hand hovering over her face, Berenice flinched slightly, then rolled only her eyes to look at the owner of the hand.

Erkin, who had suddenly met her gaze, also froze in that position, forced to meet her questioning dark green eyes for a moment. He’d thought about waking her, but he hadn’t planned to meet her eyes like this….

Now that he looked closely, her gaze was clear and sharp, with no trace of sleep at all. Berenice, glancing back and forth between him and his hand with a slightly embarrassed look, asked, “What are you doing?”

“Miss, were you pretending to sleep?”

“I asked first.”

As if telling him to drop the idea of brushing it off, Berenice slowly pushed herself up. Only then did Erkin withdraw his hand that had been close enough to touch her forehead and avert his gaze. Following that gaze, Berenice leaned her body slightly, her eyes growing more persistent.

“I said I asked first.”

“You were frowning strangely, so I thought it might be because of the sunlight and tried to check.”

After confirming the sunlight falling across the bed, Berenice let out a low hum.

“So what were you going to do if you confirmed it?”

“….”

At Erkin’s expression that seemed to say is that even a question, Berenice asked again with her eyes what he would do.

“If it was because of the sunlight, I’d block it. What else would I do?”

“Ah….”

As if she hadn’t expected such a considerate answer at all, Berenice averted her gaze slightly this time. Her face looked a bit prickled, as if she’d seized the chance to press him and question him but hadn’t expected that kind of response.