The man opened his mouth to say something, but what cut off by Sebastian’s laughter.

“I’m joking, I’m joking,” he said, tossing the stack of money back into the briefcase and strolling up to the man, putting the tip of his dagger on the man’s chest. “Who am I working for and who do I have to kill?” He inquired, the man swallowing hard.

“The one you need to kill is Yuri Popov. He’s running for deputy prime minister in Russia, and my boss, Ivan Smirnov wants him killed, so he can run instead.” He said quickly, stepping away from Sebastian.

“Wait, you’re Russian? Where’s your accent??” Sebastian sat on the edge of his bed, wary of this man, but money was money, and he needed it, and would gladly take it whenever it was given to him.

“I grew up here, in America, but both my parents were Russian. I learned both languages. Ahem.... Ty pomozhesh' nam [Will you help us?]?”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, then smirked. “Konechno, ya pomogu tebe, kogda ty khochesh' uyti? [Of course I'll help you, when do you want to leave?]?”

“You speak Russian?” The man asked incredulously, his eyes widening behind his sunglasses.

“I travel all over the world, and am hired by many different people. I’ve picked up on quite a few languages. Italian, Japanese, Korean-”

“That’s fine and good, but I don’t care.”

“Fair enough. Well, I’d like to sleep tonight. So come back in three days?” Sebastian stood, and patted the man’s chest, walking to his kitchenette and humming softly as he put a pot of water on the stove.

“Fine. I’ll take the case of-”

“Uh uh uh~,” Sebastian started, turning to the man, holding a kitchen knife to his throat. “You leave the money. I always get paid first. You can trust me though~.” He sheathed the knife back in the wood knife black, and hummed as he grabbed a tea bag from a cabinet. The man adjusting his tie, and nodded, hurrying to the front door, and leaving without another word.

Soft mewling took made Sebastian’s eyes wander to the window on the far side of his apartment; outside, was a Siamese cat, rubbing against the glass. He gasped, and ran over, opening the window, picking up the cat, and cradling it in his arms like a baby.

“Nemo!! There you are!!” he cooed, rubbing his face against the cat’s forehead. He shut the window, continuing to coo to the cat, as he sat down on his couch, running his hands all along his feline friend. “I’ve missed you! Have you been off exploring?”

“Meow.”

“I bet you had fun. Daddy went out and got some money, so I can buy you that fancy cat food you like!” Sebastian pointed to the red Prada bag from Cassandra Little. Nemo jumped out of Sebastian's arms, and trotted over to the bag, purring loudly.

“I can’t go and buy any yet, though, Daddy committed a big no-no earlier tonight, so the police have to settle down, but tomorrow, I promise to go and get you some, Nemo.”