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Harry Styles

"So you're telling me that you asked Cleo Horan to give you a lapdance and you're surprised she fucking stabbed you? You know I love you, H, but dear god... you're so fucking stupid." Zayn was currently trying not to laugh and he should really stop it before I lost what was left of my fucking temper.

I inhaled very deeply, closing my eyes as his careful fingers stitched the gash on the side of my body, and this time the pain was a very nice reminder of how fucking angry I was.

I could feel as the needle was piercing through my skin and this suture was taking longer than usual because of the damage Cleo left behind.

"That fucking cunt is going to pay," I whispered, looking into his amber eyes as he bit his bottom lip to suppress a smile.

I knew we both had alcohol and drugs in our system and it was a bad idea to be taking care of my very deep wound, but I honestly didn't care. I could tell it wasn't deadly.

At least I had stopped bleeding, there was only that sharp pain irradiating all over my body and making my head throb, and not even half a bottle of whiskey was helping me keep my thoughts organized. They were a rushed mess and I just couldn't seem to solve the puzzle.

Cleo was in the club to murder Mark... and he was also my target. The coincidences just kept showing up and I was starting to think this was her plan. What if she set me up so she could get to me and kill me?

But how would she pretend to be a client and get in touch with my father to give him this so-called list? Did she know my other targets?

She actually looked shocked when she saw me, but I was starting to think it was just a game. She probably knew it was my birthday and it was all part of her scheme... that's why she danced for me and then we ended up in a room with dear Mark. It had to be, there was no other explanation.

I wasn't as dumb as she thought I was, though... I was going to do some digging on my next targets, I knew the others weren't from New York but I'd have to find a link between them and the Horans.

My plan was to do this on my own, obviously. I told Zayn it was Cleo all along and I sort of explained what happened tonight, and I had to come up with a very good excuse to explain why I was found in a room with a dead body, because the securities were a bit confused.

I said that he attacked me when he found me in the room, thinking I was there because I wanted to fuck him or something like that, and he snapped which simply led to me protecting myself. In my defense, I told them I was looking for a blonde girl and I was very much innocent, but no one who had ever laid a hand on me managed to walk out alive.

No one but Cleo.

It wasn't the first time someone died in that club, it was pretty easy to cover shit up because there were no cameras in those VIP rooms and I paid them off to handle it, and I also found out that Mr. Tomlinson went bankrupt, and he had a huge debt in that very club. It was a win-win if you asked me.

My father wouldn't even know I killed Mark somewhere so public. It wasn't my plan to kill him there or think about my job at all, but it was a nice opportunity to get it done and I was also very confused about Cleo.

I had more than enough time to think on my way home and as Zayn took care of my wound, I was replaying the events inside my mind and trying to figure out the missing piece to make this whole shit make a little more sense to me.

"You do realize she stabbed you the two times you ran into each other? Seems to me she's not going to pay." Zayn spoke up and I opened my eyes, glaring at him.

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