Are you killer? No. You are. (Book 2) ✔️

Chapter 8

Olivia Denver's POV:

Have you read those novels where a very sweet and good girl meets the brutal and ruthless alpha of a wolf pack?

And then a funny thing happens, that the monster like alpha becomes a sheep and the story becomes romantic instead of mystery & thriller?

My story seems to be going like that only. I came here to catch a serial killer that has turned into a romantic sweet guy. He offered me a free apartment, tasty ice creams, and comfy blankets.

But I'm no sweet girl. I'm a badass bitch (not in that way). I'm gonna find the evidence and show his true face to the world.

As expected. I should've waited a bit more before thinking that.

I walk to the door as he knocks. Opening the door, I see the hot guy smiling with his brightest smile. "Had a good sleep?"

"Absolutely," I say without a smile.

"Come to my room. Breakfast is ready," he says in an absolutely charming tone.

Oh god!! I don't wanna crush on a serial killer. But he's just too much to control. Save me!!

"I gotta freshen up. You carry on Mr. Brown." He raises an eyebrow. "Danny," I add.

"Do it quickly. I'll be waiting." Passing a killer smile he turns back.

I finish my daily routine hurriedly not knowing why hurriedly? I walk into his room and took a seat around the round table.

With so many beautiful paintings on walls, his home is actually an art gallery. And it turns into heaven (not actually) when he serves the delicious noodles.

I have my mouth fully stuffed when he says, "Noodles have always been your favorite."

I gulp all of it in one blink and ask, "How do you know that?"

"What?" he asks, switching off the light of his smiling face.

"Noodles being my favorite, how do you know?" I repeat.

"I didn't say. I asked. Noodles have always been your favorite question mark," he says, stuffing his mouth.

Really? You think I'm a sweet, cute kinda fool girl. I'm a superdetective Danny boy. I may not be good at changing my facial expressions. But I'm an expert in reading others.

I don't know why you said it but I'm certainly gonna find it out.

We finish the food and walk back to our restaurant. I keep my eyes wide alert, never leaving his sight. But the whole day gets over and I don't find anything suspicious.

I am getting sick and bored of just sitting and watching customers eat and leave. Until now.

A man dressed in a brown leather jacket over black tees and jeans walks over to my cash counter.

A dark brown aviator sunglasses is covering his eyes and he gets busy talking over the phone instead of paying the bill.

"It's a Mexican one. Nope, it doesn't bite man, it exhales fire. I'm gonna charge a premium too.

Yeah, you guessed it right. I gave it to her last week. Hahaha!! She loved it more than her life.

Don't worry I made proper arrangements for her after that. Yeah yeah, I can help you with that too.

I'm kinda expert in that part now," says the man laughing at times and keeping his conversation cryptic knowing my presence.

But you're too naive, baby. Hola! meet Olivia Denver. 3...2...1

DEMON!!!

It's a plain vanilla case. He gifted his girlfriend a Mexican dog. It was not a cute puppy but a scary bulldog so it didn't bite but breathed fire.

She was kind of an adventurous girl. So she liked the dog more than her boring life.

But keeping a bulldog as a pet is not easy. So he made proper arrangements for her and promised to do the same for the man he's talking to.

Huh! Easy like breezy.

He puts the cash on the counter way more than the bill. When I push the balance cash towards him he says, "Keep the change, bitch." With a vicious ear-to-ear smile on his face.

Really? Why keep conversation cryptic with smiles and flowery words like a gentleman. But pass a vicious smile and abuse a cute and innocent cashier in the end?

Think harder, Olivia!! You're certainly missing something!!

He paid almost double the bill. Why? He got too much money? Will Jeff Bezos pay double the bill? Will Warren Buffett do it?

Nope. Having too much money isn't the answer. He's got too much arrogance. But why show me that arrogance?

Huh!! He thinks he won. He thinks he kept cryptic enough that I didn't understand. But why so?

Gifting a Mexican Dog to your girlfriend isn't a dirty secret to hide. Is it?

Nope. So it's time for another round. 3..2..1

DEMON!!!

"HEY, ARSEHOLE." I show my fingers in a particular way to him and signal him to come near me.

With an angry face, he walks over to my cash counter. "You think I don't know what you were talking about on the phone?"

"You think you do?" raising his eyebrows he looks at me with monster eyes.

"Absolutely. It's a Mexican gun of heavy caliber. So it doesn't bite but exhales fire.

You killed your girlfriend with this gun. And disposed of her body with appropriate precautions.

Now you're trying to sell the gun to a known client. And you're promising you'll help him dispose of the body of his victim too.

Since you've been an arms dealer you haven't killed and disposed of many bodies in the past. But in recent times you've scored 3-4 and you think you've become an expert in this," I say it all in just one breath.

He looks at me for a moment, obviously numb by my talents.

"You're absolutely right about all except one part," he says.

Shit!! Was the dog story better?

Nope. Absolutely not. It can't be.

"What?" I ask.

"She wasn't my girlfriend. She was my wife."