My Second Marriage with the Mafia Kingpin novel Chapter 458

Chapter 458: Death Wish?

"Man... you guys seriously need a television or something."

Red’s voice carried across the square before silence followed.

The two prisoners fighting at the front froze and turned toward the source of the voice. The guards frowned and looked in the same direction, while the rest of the prisoners held their breaths, their eyes widening in dread.

A moment later, every gaze was fixed on Red.

"Hey, kid..." Charm growled under his breath. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Gin winced as he looked at Red.

"Shit," he muttered through gritted teeth. "He’s going to ruin everything."

Was Gin stressed?

Absolutely.

He knew Red well enough to know the man could forget an entire plan the moment his emotions took over. Rum might be uncontrollable during battle, but Red was far more brutal once he snapped.

Deep down, Gin wished he had fought harder to convince Ashley to send Khan instead.

But she had been adamant and chose Red.

He’s going to ruin the plan!

Gin glanced around, wondering whether the others were watching or if some of them had already completed their assignments.

It was still too early.

"What the fuck did you say?" one of the guards demanded as he stepped forward, his eyes locked on Red.

Red shrugged casually.

"I said I can’t believe this qualifies as entertainment for you." He scoffed. "It’s fucking pathetic. There’s a reason people used to watch gladiators."

His lips curled. "At least they knew how to put up a good fight."

The guards stared at the young man, openly criticizing them. Then they glanced toward their captain.

The man lifted his chin.

"Drag him over here," he ordered.

The guards immediately approached Red. When they stopped in front of him, their eyes were cold and sharp. One of them reached out to grab him.

Red smoothly leaned back.

In the next second, he caught the man’s arm and drove his fist straight into his face. The punch sent the guard crashing onto his rear.

"Ugh!" Blood immediately pooled inside the man’s mouth.

A collective gasp swept through the square.

Everyone froze.

Everyone except Gin, who mentally screamed as he grabbed his hair in distress.

"Keep your fucking hands off me," Red muttered.

He shook out the hand he had used before calmly walking toward the front on his own. He stopped beside the two prisoners and straightened his back.

His gaze dropped briefly toward them.

Blood trickled from their noses, and tears stained their faces.

"What are you doing?" the injured prisoner asked through ragged breaths.

Red gave him no answer. He simply turned toward the guards.

"You want a good fight?" he challenged. "Come at me."

His gaze settled on the captain—the same guard who had taken them off the bus and shoved Gin earlier.

"I’ll pulverize every last one of you motherfuckers."

Red hadn’t forgotten what the man had done. He had been thinking about how he would kill him ever since.

"Red!" Gin hissed desperately. "What the hell are you doing?"

Gin glanced around again and caught the other prisoners staring at Red.

None of them dared speak, but their expressions said everything: "Do you have a fucking death wish?"

Of course that was their first reaction.

By now, Gin understood that these men had been conditioned to grit their teeth and endure. They had learned to watch silently, even when everything happening before them went against whatever integrity or beliefs they had left.

But Gin was worried about something else entirely.

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