Broken

Chapter 30

Richard

The notification bell of my phone alerts me about a message. Stopping near the stairs to the glamorous hotel, I take it out of my coat pocket.

After turning it on, I see that my client has paid the money for my service. Good, I was sceptical of him when he said he'd pay later after I had gone through the trouble of shooting and plucking out the target's incisor teeth as per his request. While holding the phone, I notice some of the dried blood is still under my thumbnail. How bothersome...even though I took a shower and cleaned all that blood off.

Putting the phone back in my pocket, I make my way up the stairs as I pass by many fancy people whose appearance screams wealth. Well, it IS  a high-class hotel. The guard opens the glass doors for me and I step inside feeling like stepping into the world of high society.

Lydia had called me earlier, informing me to come over to discuss our next step. I had mixed feelings when she said she's at Judy's grave. The more she goes there the more depressed she'll get. Right now Lydia needs to focus on her goal. The kid is a distraction. She said she'll kill him when Morgan reaches her home. I already made sure it happens quickly. Following Morgan around had been a huge pain. It wasn't thrilling at all and just watching her made me angry. Lydia doesn't know what I have done. Morgan really did a number on Jessica. Girl looked like a broken doll. Poor thing couldn't even move so I just wrote it down with her blood. Glimmer of hope to be rescued is what I saw but nope, I wasn't here for that. Nevertheless, it was time for the truth to come out. Her brother would die either way by Lydia or Morgan whose starting to lose her marbles. Now Morgan will search up and go to Lydia's house. The boy will die and Lydia will get back in the game.

Calmly walking towards the elevator, I press the button and wait for it along with other people who are present here. I notice them eyeing me closely as I stand unhinged in my long brown leather trench coat, grey shirt and neatly combed hair. I lived most of my life being surrounded by such people that it doesn't faze me. Not saying I dislike them, since it's because of their hatred, jealousy and ill intentions that I can make a living.

I used to hate them at first. Being from the countryside, I used to think of the people living in the big cities as rich snobs who look down on those below them. Even resenting my father who moved us here because of my grandfather who worked as a hitman for some rich family and wanted dad to serve their next heir.

The elevator arrives and I enter along with a man in a suit and two women in evening gowns. Pressing the thirteenth-floor button, I back away to the corner of the large elevator.

While waiting awkwardly, I scrape the dried blood off of my thumb while hiding my hands in my pocket. Watching the reflection of the people on the wall, I feel amused as I remember I read online, that an average person walks by a murderer 36 times in their lives.

The elevator stops at the 7th floor and one of the women walks out. The doors close after a few seconds. I notice the man in the suit sneaking glances at the woman in the other corner and slowly taking a step in her direction. I frown, disgusted by his intentions, and step in between them preventing him from getting to her. The man tries not to show any reaction but I can see him clenching his fists.

It's people like him I despise the most. I would gladly kill one for even a penny. Trash like them doesn't deserve to live.

The elevator finally stops at the thirteenth floor and I realise that the lady also wanted to get off on this floor.

"Thanks for that. I was so uncomfortable and he was standing next to the elevator buttons so I couldn't just get off." She says sheepishly with a smile.