'Shut your mouth, girl! You will be no one's wife but mine, do you understand me?!' I whimpered as he pinned me to the bed and pressed his palm into my lower belly. 'This womb of yours shall only carry my children. Don't you even dare to think about...
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--Ronaldo--
I had deployed our men to patrol near the Lachat home and bakery early in the morning. They should have arrived there at seven, hidden in the general vicinity as though they had lived on the street their entire lives. It was a simple job that neither they nor I had expected to bear any notable reports. As the boss had ordered, Allison and Timothée Lachat's lives will continue undisturbed for the next fortnight he is to remain out of Orléans. That was our purpose. Whether anything was to happen or not, we were to monitor them and keep them from harm's way. But it was clear that all the men assigned to this - including myself - viewed this only as an extra precaution. After all, it was only by slim chance that Lachat was actually a target of the attack against Manu and his team.
The outcome for these next two weeks was expected to be uneventful and quiet. So, you could imagine the bafflement of both my men and I when Allison Lachat had come running out of her house at nine that very same morning with tears streaming down her face.
I greeted the man stationed in front of the far end door of the backrooms with a nod as I approached. He returned it in acknowledgement of my authorisation and tapped a knock into the rusted steel door. The hardware was degrading after years of abandonment. It was the aesthetic of the entire warehouse. It had been used by our group for illegal trading of firearms around seven years ago before operations were shut down abruptly under suspicions that the police might have discovered our involvement with it. Investigations didn't go far after that so we still use its storage compartments and backrooms for underground business.
"What is it?" A muffled, reverberating voice from the inside of the room gruffed at the knock.
"Boss Ronaldo's here. Wants the other boss," the man beside me answered back. The was a slight pause afterwards which gave way to the faint sounds of pained screaming from the other side of the door. The intensity and shrill pitch of it seemed to almost make the metal shake on its hinges. I knew from whom it came. They had managed to find one of the men involved with the shooting and means of interrogation were assigned to Léon. And, though I felt no sympathy for the man who had killed Manu, I will recognise that it was unfortunate that he had been handed to Léon of all men.
A squealing clang of the rusting lock being undone stiffened my shoulders with preparation. This would not be pleasant news that I'd be delivering after all. Especially after this recent lead with the Manu case had put Léon in such good spirits following his forced return into Paris. The door cracked open in synchronisation with another blood-curling bellow of plead. One which would strike fear into the core of any sane person.
"Please! Oh, God, please, I beg of you! No more!" The voice behind it had been strained hoarse and broken. So, I could only imagine the state of the man himself within that room. I hadn't the chance to catch sight as Léon's large and broad frame stepped into view with a bit of dishevelment to his appearance. His white shirt crumpled with the top buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to his elbow. There were swatches of dried and fresh blood here and there but most of it was on his hands, which he was currently wiping clean on a dirty rag. He was a brooding, bulky man that was shadowed into a silhouette in the doorway by the dimly flickering, single light hanging behind him. I stepped back to let him saunter out of the room, another shattered scream echoing from inside before the door was shut once again to seal away its sinful dealings.
