The Girl With The Crimson Eyes

8: An Eye For An Eye

Ronner

Ronner woke up early that day and noticed Magenta had already left his bed. He stretched his arms and opened the curtains, allowing the sunlight to bathe his room. His balcony provided a panoramic view of the city hills and their blueish tones, covered by dense urbanization.

Every morning, Ronner enjoyed sitting by the window, drinking his finest wine, and tasting the flavor of success. But there was something to do first. Magenta rarely woke up earlier than him, so he headed to her office to confirm his suspicions.

The servants bowed as he walked past them, smiling and winking at the girls. Their submissive looks never got old; he had earned them. Yet something was missing in his palace.

Ronner arrived at Magenta's office and found The Lady talking on her phone. She paced around the room, scowling and kicking things out of her way. He shook his head, knowing the reason behind her behavior.

Magenta finally hung up by smashing her mobile on the floor, the sixth one in one week. "That stupid pig!" she roared. "How dare he speak to me like that?"

"I guess this is a bad moment to talk," Ronner said, smirking.

"He doesn't wanna wait anymore and is threatening me! I should put a bullet in his fucking brain!" Magenta seized a crystal cup and smashed it against a wall. Ronner watched how sparkly glass debris fell to his feet, amusement on his face.

"You need to relax, baby."

"Shut up, idiot!" she yelled, her pale face red like a tomato.

Ronner laughed and grabbed a bottle of Red Fire from a Blackwood shelf. "He can say whatever he wants, but we're the ones who own the Nephilim."

"This is Marcus' fault." Magenta scoffed, allowing Ronner to fill her cup with the exotic beverage.

Ronner rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Magenta strutted toward her balcony with her eyes fixed on the city. "He promised me those brutes from Karx would pay more than him."

"Bullshit. No army from Karx has that much money."

"We should at least try . . . " Magenta sipped her drink as she glanced at Ronner.

"Why bother? The stupid pig is our best option. He has the money and contacts we need." Ronner walked up to Magenta. He rested his chin on her shoulder and whispered, "You don't believe in Karx. You're only doing this because of that sullen butler of yours."

"He's not a butler, he is a—"

"Yes, I know." Ronner cut her off, wrapping his arms around her waist. "You keep him around because you still hold some affection for him. Am I wrong?" His voice was calm, but with an edge to it.

She remained silent, focused on the Four Towers, drawing tangled shadows over the roads. "I promised to give him a chance, and I will. If they don't convince me, nothing will change." Magenta leaned her head back and bit his cheek. "But you're right. I have a soft spot for him. Does that bother you?"

Ronner stifled a chuckle as he tightened his grasp around her. "I already told you can sleep with him. I don't care."

Magenta pushed Ronner away and leaned on the black marble railing. "He's offered himself to finish your dirty job. You should be more grateful."

"I am! This way, I got more time with you." Ronner stood next to her and sniffed her hair. "So, when is he doing it?"

"Soon . . . "

"See? He still loves you," Ronner said, running his fingers through her garnet hair. "No more than I do, of course." He sniggered.

Magenta seized his fingers. "Ah, Ron . . . Don't believe I've forgotten what you did."