5

Andrei took a slow breath, trying to control his discontent.

"But you hit him with your hands tied," he raised an eyebrow.

"He was touching me, I asked him to leave me alone..."

"And you killed him," he snapped sharply.

Elisa lifted her eyes to those of the man with long, chestnut hair, almost as long as the raven-haired one's. His skin was fair and smooth, his lips were full, and he seemed taller than the other as well. The difference lay in his eyes; his gaze was cold and indifferent, unlike the other's which she could only remember as sinister.

"The clasp dug into his head..." she teared up again. "I didn't mean to do it, I'm really sorry..." she remembered the bullet in her friend's head, and then her collapsing before her eyes. Perhaps this man felt the same as she did.

He looked down at her, tilting his head with another smile. He didn't care about her apology, nor did he understand why she was apologizing to him.

He leaned in, taking hold of her legs to straighten them out. Her knees prevented him from getting close to the wound on her shoulder, near the collarbone.

She pulled them back up as he frowned. He pulled at her legs again, bringing her closer from that grip to extract the other bullet.

The girl closed her eyes tightly as she felt that pain again, this one easier to locate.

"Stop, it hurts!" she cried out tiredly, by now feeling her eyes dry and her throat, as if it had acid on its walls.

The chestnut-haired man cornered her on the bed, speaking to her near her face and looking into her eyes in that superior way that made her shrink and tremble on that bed.

"You owe me something, girl. Maybe I'll want your life as payment, because your mere existence annoys me. I hate that a weak, spineless woman like you killed a guy like Kirill Sokolov, but I don't know what annoys me more; that you're the murderer of my friend, or that he was stupid enough to die in such a shameful way at the hands of a prostitute.”

That hateful lump in her throat hurt. It filled her eyes with tears, but she forced herself not to let them fall. By now, she was tired of crying and of it being her only reaction.

Why couldn't she be as indifferent as Andrei?

He took the blankets and covered her again, even up to her head, then stood up to leave.

He wouldn't say anything more, because she wasn't his only concern and he didn't even consider her important.

Sokolov had to be buried with honors in the courtyard of that house. However, after speaking with that woman, seeing his comrade as an honorable man seemed amusing to him.

No honorable man could be killed by a frightened woman defending herself while being violated. Kirill was a coward, and it was all embarrassing.

Later, he would figure out what to do with that girl.

"Andrei, the manager is waiting for you," he was greeted with those words as he left that room.

He began to walk alongside the boy, who was shorter and younger than him.

Since he had ordered Elisa to be kept alive, he himself had taken charge of the nightclub manager. Someone had to pay, but until then, he didn't know who it would be.

"Igor."

The boy stopped next to the taller man, curious about this sudden interruption.

He admired the coldness of this man, even when he had to deal with the death of his only friend. He longed to take the place that the reckless Sokolov had left vacant.

"Give me your gun."

The blond did as the other asked, knowing that blood would be shed and loving to see it when it happened. It didn't happen too often in that house with touches of an ancient palace, and when it did, it was exciting.

He knew Andrei would make his decision after talking to the other problem, and personally, he didn't care who it was. He just wanted to enjoy the last moment of life of a wretch begging for mercy, something he was certain wouldn't be granted.

The chestnut-haired man took the gun and entered the room with Igor, to see the man who was guarded by two of his own, because he didn't need more. He didn't like his house being filled with people; he liked being surrounded by a few trusted ones.

"You've really messed up your job," was his way of greeting him.

He was sitting in a chair, handcuffed, confused, and scared after what had happened the night before. He never thought he would cause such a mess with the call he made.

"I talked to the woman," he took a chair and sat in front of the manager, who was crestfallen and barely looked at him. "I know she killed Kirill," he spread his legs, resting his hands on his knees, leaning forward to meet his gaze and speak calmly. "You had a murderer in your club. How do you explain that to me?”

The manager looked at him, then hid his gaze again, thinking that Elisa was dead by now.

"Elisa was a low-profile girl..."

Andrei straightened up, furrowing his brow.

"Elisa? Is that her name?"

"Yes. Forgive me, I didn't know she would be capable of killing a man. She was a virgin, and I thought she had sold her virginity to Mr. Kirill, so I left them..." He started speaking faster, believing that would exonerate him, because at this point he didn't care if Elisa paid. She had to die; she had killed the dark-haired man, not him. "She killed him, not me. Why was I brought here?"

Andrei listened to him, his gaze fixed on his eyes, sensing his desperation as he tried to shift the blame away from himself. He furrowed his brow again, questioning the man's actions.

"You're still doing your job poorly," he was angry, hating the lack of loyalty from such mediocre people, who didn't defend the naive fool who was now dying because she hadn't thought of a better way to defend herself from Kirill. "He shouldn't have trusted you for that club. You're weak and spineless," he stood up, pushing the chair away that now bothered him. "You know what a real man would have done?" he spoke to him with contempt, feeling disgust for that person. "He covers up the damn murder and gets rid of the rotten corpse, but you blabbed, you put all the responsibility on a brat, and with that, you led all your people to their deaths," he lifted the man's face from the chin, wanting him to look into his eyes. "You betrayed your own like a coward. You disgust me."

It was true, he had led all his workers, even his own girlfriend, to their deaths. He wanted to live because he was terrified of death. But what could one expect from that man he had never seen before?

Definitely his actions were not to his liking, and he began to fear again.

"Do you have anything else to tell me?" he was still there, leaning in and staring into the eyes of the man who trembled and cried like a child.

"I didn't kill him..." Andrei scoffed. "I'm sorry..." he said between tears.

The long-haired man straightened up again, no longer wanting to continue discussing the matter, and he had decided who would pay with his life for what happened to Kirill.

He took out the gun he had left in his pants, placing it against the other man's forehead.

"I didn't..."

He shot him. He was doing the world a favor by taking out a bastard idiot like him.

Igor smiled at Andrei, that act of power had left him thrilled, and he knew he would have to dispose of the body, he loved being in charge of that, as he knew how to do it and took pride in it.

The brunette handed the gun to the blond and left the room, still angry. He needed a hot bath to relax as he liked.

Elisa heard the gunshot, her wounds hurt even more because they had been manhandled. She got out of her bed, approaching the door that she couldn't open.

What was that? What would they do to her?

She heard footsteps approaching, and her heart raced. It continued like that, even when she heard those same steps moving away.