The night is a mistress of life. It is the hardest time to be alive for, those silent hours bring forth Melancholic air and scandalous actions. In its prime it feeds off of the secrets, schemes and lies made within it, knowing it was only a matter o...
"Nothing can drive one closer to his own insanity than a haunting memory refusing its own death."- Darnella Ford
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Brie Bruton was the only child born to Allan and Kathleen Bruton. Her parents died in a car crash three nights after her high school graduation. Brie grieved using cocaine, liquor, and sex, living in the home she once shared with her parents in Brooklyn.
Truthfully the rest of her story is boring.
She went from working at a strip club in Brighton beach to working in one of my hotels in the city.
Allegedly, sex didn't get her the position. Hired through an ad, Brie worked well with her peers and eventually earned the position of assistant sales manager.
It was by chance that I saw her at the hotel and didn't reject her advances.
Alas, her downfall began after we had sex.
No children and never married, she leaves behind no one.
She will be missed by no one.
Mikel is already interviewing for her replacement.
Derek discovered that her impromptu visit was orchestrated by a Latino male and a distant cousin of hers. Those fools offered her a one-way ticket to Spain and 20k as compensation for spying on me.
But that was her first mistake: thinking information on a billionaire is only worth 20 thousand.
The second one was believing she could successfully do so and live to tell the story.
The funniest part is she had an out. In June, I had decided to end our arrangement, completely unaware of her treachery. Until a few days ago, I hadn't given her a thought.
Nevertheless, Brie, James Bruton, and recently identified Adolfo Salazar were pawns blinded by greed. Choosing to work for an unknown boss who delivered instructions via burner phones and untraceable packages, they each suffered a gruesome death because of their inability to provide any valuable information.
For a moment, my surroundings are muted as I inhale cannabis. Closing my eyes, I envision an 8 by 8 grid, 64 squares that alternate in color between light and dark.
Across from me is a white king. Their face is hidden but a feeling inside tells me I know exactly who it is. I just can't see it yet. My enemy has decided to remain invisible and started a game without telling me one is being played. I didn't notice when the pawn was moved, but I am aware of the white knight in the field.
They believe because they were able to move first that there's an advantage.
The thing is... I always play black.
Whether it's because I'm a sucker for underdogs or I believe that your first move reveals your intentions, I prefer to be provoked.
Now that I've made my move, my opponent's clock is ticking.
