She had ambitions that soared beyond the cage of her upbringing. Her dreams were simple yet profound: to find true love, chase her dream career, and break free from the shackles of her life. Yet, the day arrived when the cold hand of fate forced her...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
♬ DELRESTO (ECHOES) - Travis Scott, Beyoncé.
☆彡
Oh, fuck.
My jaw clenches as I light up the cigarette before taking a drag, my mind astray as I lean back in my seat.
'If this wasn't a dream, there's no way you would take care of me like this.'
'Never, ever.'
And she was right, too. It wasn't in my nature to take care of someone, especially someone I'm not supposed to give a fuck about.
I don't know what's happening to me, but I need it gone.
I can't allow myself to get distracted by shit like this, it won't bring me any profits to get even more involved with an arranged wife.
Especially her.
As hard as I try to concentrate on the stack of papers sitting in front of me, I can't think about anything else.
Without thinking, I dial my brother's number before holding the phone up to my ear. "What's up?"
"Give me all the information you can get about Celestine," I say, my tone abrupt as the line goes silent.
It's one of the few things Roman is good for. As much as he lacks common sense, he's surprisingly good at getting information or leverage on people.
"Why would you even— you know what? I'm not even gonna question it."
After ending the phone call, I toss my phone on my desk and take a sharp breath as I rise from my chair, putting the cigarette out before heading towards the door.
★★★
"Is this seriously what I'm working with today?" I cock my head at the man who's currently tied to a wooden chair, screaming and using every ounce of his energy trying to break out of the ropes.
I don't understand why people would want their last moments to be wasted by doing this, why not enjoy your last breaths?
Roman needs this guy dead, and It's been a while since I've killed someone. Sounds like a fair deal to me. I didn't question why he deserves death, I didn't care enough to.
It's not like I'm addicted to killing, but when you blur a person's childhood with nothing but torture and blood, they become drawn to the concept.
The abused becomes the abuser.
Except I don't feel the need to hurt people who don't deserve it, I hurt people who don't deserve the privilege of breathing.
