"Do you think this teaching method will help me control my desire to kill?" I lay naked on the bed and looked at Frade, who was smoking a cigarette."In my opinion, sexual desire is no different from ho.micidal desire!" He flicked his cigarette into the brown ashtray on the bedside table. "If you can control sexual desire, why can't you control h.omicidal desire?"I lay my head on his lap and looked up at him. White smoke came out of his mouth and nose and hung around his cheeks, and suddenly I thought his perfect face was like a hazy painting hanging on the wall.He looks amazing all the time!"Tell me about her!" I said."Who?" He seemed to know."Mia! You said she looks like me, right?" I was curious about his world, especially Mia. I wonder what kind of woman he is so fascinated by. I wonder what the difference is between me and her.I know I may be asking too much of him. I was also prepared that he would refuse to answer the question.After a moment of silence, he put out his ci
Through the binoculars, I could see the familiar gate of the manor closed. Soon a Lincoln pulled out of the open gate. Jorah, the housekeeper, stood respectfully on one side of the gate, looking at the car as he watched his loved ones leave.Frade found out that my father is flying on a private jet today to a business meeting on an island in the south. So today is a good day!If I remember correctly, every Sunday was the day of rest for the servants of the manor. On the day off, all the servants would go downtown to shop or find a place to relax. After all, no one could stay in the manor all the time. But Jorah is an exception. He never leaves this place at any time unless he has to. He made the manor his home, guarding the last line of defense like a samurai when everyone was gone.I once heard my mother mention that Jorah had been working as a housekeeper before she married my father, and that sometimes he also acted as my father's chauffeur.In my impression, he always looks seriou
Frade took one look at me and he stood up to make room for me again. Frade's body heat lingered on the cushions of the chair, but my brain was flooded with cold water, and every cell in it was working at full speed. Childhood memories flash by like a fast-forward movie. I try to hold on to every memory for fear of missing any details.Jorah is a very tough person, and if I don't ask, he won't talk.I remember when I was young, my father and mother had a heated argument in a locked room. After my father slammed the door and left, Jorah slipped into the room. Through the crack in the door, I saw him squatting on the ground applying medicine to my mother's injured hand.He bowed his head and moved softly. The gentle look in his eyes was like he was healing an injured little female cat."I used to dream that my mother had turned into a white butterfly. She flapped her wings in the distance. She was so pure and beautiful. I wanted to chase her as hard as I could, but the white butterfly fe
"I have to get back at them!" I pulled my hand out of my boxing glove and threw them to the ground. Frade was sitting next to me, his forehead dripping with sweat.After disposing of the body, he took me back to the villa. He thought that the anger in me had only temporarily subsided. If I want to really quell this murderous urge that can erupt at any time, I have to exercise to burn off my energy.So Frade took me to his private boxing room. He will be my coach this time. It was not until the moonlight fell on the window and formed a thin golden veil that I felt drained. The killing desire of hatred finally retreated to some dark corner of the heart."Who?" Frade goes to the fridge and takes out two bottles of mineral water. He hands me one.“My father, and the general!” Maybe I shouldn't have called him my father."We need a new plan," Frade said. "Your father is a business celebrity, and his death will draw the attention of the police if we don't handle it well enough.""Jorah is d
The darkness enveloped me again, and this time I smelled a rancid and sticky smell, and the bitter cold forced my eyes open. I saw a pair of black leather shoes appear in my sight. Someone pulled my hair behind me and I had to look up.In the dark cell, Ron was sitting on a chair with his hands folded over his chest. There is a world of difference between his shiny appearance and the smelly prison. But he didn't seem to mind. He waved, and the guard, who was holding my hair, walked out of the cell. He stood outside the door with his back to Ron. The electric baton and the key that hung from his waist flickered in the corridor light."Gina's baby is dead!" Ron looked at me with hatred. "You killed her baby!""Is that what she told you?" I looked up and sneered. History repeats itself. I couldn't escape it."She came back from the nursing home just to apologize to you, but I didn't think you'd hit her and cause her to miscarry," he said. "Eva, I told you this baby was important to me, b
"Stop, don't run!" The man roared and shot me in the back. The bullet brushed past my ear and into the bark of a tree in front of me. The smell of gunpowder came from the hole through which it had been shot.I ran as fast as I could into the dense ferns, and the darkness engulfed my body. I was surrounded by weeds as tall as an adult's knee. Under the cover of the weeds, I curled up and moved forward. I was hoping to hide behind a tree, but the moonlight suddenly became so dim that my vision was blurry. The smell of grass filled my nostrils, and I could only feel my way to the right.Another shot passed over my head, and then I saw a searchlight ahead, and the sound of the pursuers came closer. If I keep moving, they'll know.I lay motionless on the ground, one ear on the ground, the other ear listening carefully to the approaching footsteps. It should be the same two men. They didn't speak on purpose, only the faint sound of grass under their feet.The pistol was in my hand. I didn't
I didn't see Frade for days. He had a man named Mark watching me. I remember he was the man in the helicopter that night. Wherever I go, I must be within his sight. I can't even use my cell phone, which makes me anxious.No one told me where Frade was, and my daily activities were confined to the villa area. To kill time, I sometimes sneak into the attic on the top floor. I lifted every canvas and saw every portrait. Mia looks different in each portrait. There are pictures of her smiling, of her standing quietly by the sea, and of her sitting in the corridor looking sad.Those are Frade's memories of her. I looked at each painting and was intrigued by Mia. I never thought I'd have a sister in this world. What kind of life did she have? Were her adoptive parents nice to her?'If you were born into a poor family, you would have a gambling father and a p.rostitute mother. They'll sell you to a nightclub for a living after your first period and then take the money and leave you to die. Yo
Liv asked me to meet her at her apartment. But she warned me on the phone that Ron had secretly paid off a hit man to find me. To avoid being noticed, I bought a pizza on the way to Liv's and gave the clerk an extra $10 to buy a red hat with the words Nana Pizza on it.I kept my hat low on purpose. When I met the security guard at the apartment, I pretended to be a delivery girl. The fat man was busy checking Twitter on his phone, and he motioned for me to check in on the guest list in the register.I scribbled a fake name and the fat man let me in without looking. Maybe Liv had already said hello to him, or maybe he was used to a laid-back working attitude, but I was sure he hadn't seen my face. I keep my head down when I'm in a position where there are cameras.I found Liv's apartment number and knocked three times. Then the door opened, and I saw Liv, with her delicate makeup on her face, in the doorway. She quickly took the pizza from my hand and let me in."Oh, my God! Eva, it's