“You’re lucky Luka took your apology!
Nikolai’s voice cut through the air, icy and sharp, as his dark eyes bore into Felix’s. The man paced the room, his nervous energy palpable, each step echoing with an unspoken tension. Felix, seated comfortably on the plush, luxurious sofa adorned with intricate patterns, couldn’t help but admire the golden lamps that cast a warm glow across the room.
“Well…” Felix began,
“Why do you have all of this, while I sleep in a moldy room?”
The challenge hung in the air,
How dare you?” Nikolai’s voice came out sharp
“You see, I don't want to kiss the asses of some rich pricks while my lungs are rotting, and you’re gathering money to get more golden doorknobs for your damn house.”
“Tsk, you’re well paid,” Nikolai replied dismissively.
“Not well enough,” Felix shot back.
“I could kill you for this.”
“You’re free to try.” A heavy silence descended.
“What do you want? A house?” Nikolai asked.
“One for each of us?” Felix proposed, his voice laced with determination.
“What?” Nikolai’s surprise was obvious.
“We won’t keep doing your dirty work while living like rats,” Felix declared,.
“Well then…” Nikolai’s tone shifted.
“But it will cost me,” Felix guessed.
“Just take it. We will talk about my conditions later,”
That night, they celebrated in the same tavern where Felix had confronted Luka just days prior. The familiar strains of music filled the air as they gathered at the table, the atmosphere electric with excitement. The beautiful singer, a vision of grace, enchanted the crowd, her voice weaving through the room like a spell.
“A house?” Emil questioned, disbelief etched on his face. “For each of us?” Leonid added, awestruck. The young men were amazed, their eyes wide with wonder.
“How did you do it, Felix? Were you mind-controlling him?” They laughed, patting his shoulders and cheering him on, but Felix was lost in his thoughts.
“No,” he murmured absentmindedly, “he is preparing something for me. I will pay the price.” His gaze remained fixed on Anastasia, her voice a siren’s song that filled his ears and clouded his mind. Enchanted, he felt as though she was singing just for him, her deep blue eyes locking onto his, drawing him into a world of wonder. Leonid and Emil continued their chat, but Felix was worlds away, lost in the depths of Anastasia’s gaze, the melody wrapping around him like an intoxicating embrace. As the night wore on and the crowd began to thin, it was no surprise when she approached him, her graceful movements captivating. Felix felt his cheeks flush red.
“This is my number,” she said, handing him a piece of paper. A smirk tugged at his lips-
“Oh, I will make sure to call you,” he replied, his voice laced with eagerness. Now that she was so close, her intoxicating scent sent his heart racing. Did she really want him as much as he wanted her?
“Call me if you must, if that man sues you. I will be your witness,” she said, her soft voice serious, grounding him with a sobering reality.
“Hah?” he blinked, finally meeting her gaze, confusion etched across his face.
“He is a dangerous person. You could end up in prison,” she warned.
“I appreciate your help, but I don’t want to owe you, boy. So make sure to call me if it comes to that.”
“I—” He struggled for words, feeling the weight of her seriousness.
“I will call you, but not because of that idiot.” Finally gathering his thoughts, he reached out, wanting to touch her hair, but she moved away.
“I’m not looking for a suitor. Especially not an underage one. Take care,” she said, her tone turning cold as she turned her back on him.
“But…” he called after her, his voice barely a whisper, heartbroken as he looked down at the piece of paper she had left behind. At least I got her phone number, he thought, a bittersweet smile appeared on his face.
Langouste—a name that rolled off the tongue like honey, yet felt as bitter as poison in Felix's mouth. It was a pretentious restaurant, visited by people who wore their wealth like a badge of honor, each glance a judgment, each whisper a condemnation. When Luka DeFranco and Nikolai Soldatov finally joined him at the table, Felix refused to acknowledge their presence. He didn’t rise to greet them or extend a hand; he merely regarded them with a cool, defiant stare. It was a deliberate act of rebellion.
He thought of Vivien, for the first time in years, once she was his guiding light. What would she think of him now? Would she be proud of the choices he was forced to make, or would she feel disgusted?
Nikolai’s voice cut through the air, icy and sharp, as his dark eyes bore into Felix’s. The man paced the room, his nervous energy palpable, each step echoing with an unspoken tension. Felix, seated comfortably on the plush, luxurious sofa adorned with intricate patterns, couldn’t help but admire the golden lamps that cast a warm glow across the room.
“Well…” Felix began,
“Why do you have all of this, while I sleep in a moldy room?”
The challenge hung in the air,
How dare you?” Nikolai’s voice came out sharp
“You see, I don't want to kiss the asses of some rich pricks while my lungs are rotting, and you’re gathering money to get more golden doorknobs for your damn house.”
“Tsk, you’re well paid,” Nikolai replied dismissively.
“Not well enough,” Felix shot back.
“I could kill you for this.”
“You’re free to try.” A heavy silence descended.
“What do you want? A house?” Nikolai asked.
“One for each of us?” Felix proposed, his voice laced with determination.
“What?” Nikolai’s surprise was obvious.
“We won’t keep doing your dirty work while living like rats,” Felix declared,.
“Well then…” Nikolai’s tone shifted.
“But it will cost me,” Felix guessed.
“Just take it. We will talk about my conditions later,”
That night, they celebrated in the same tavern where Felix had confronted Luka just days prior. The familiar strains of music filled the air as they gathered at the table, the atmosphere electric with excitement. The beautiful singer, a vision of grace, enchanted the crowd, her voice weaving through the room like a spell.
“A house?” Emil questioned, disbelief etched on his face. “For each of us?” Leonid added, awestruck. The young men were amazed, their eyes wide with wonder.
“How did you do it, Felix? Were you mind-controlling him?” They laughed, patting his shoulders and cheering him on, but Felix was lost in his thoughts.
“No,” he murmured absentmindedly, “he is preparing something for me. I will pay the price.” His gaze remained fixed on Anastasia, her voice a siren’s song that filled his ears and clouded his mind. Enchanted, he felt as though she was singing just for him, her deep blue eyes locking onto his, drawing him into a world of wonder. Leonid and Emil continued their chat, but Felix was worlds away, lost in the depths of Anastasia’s gaze, the melody wrapping around him like an intoxicating embrace. As the night wore on and the crowd began to thin, it was no surprise when she approached him, her graceful movements captivating. Felix felt his cheeks flush red.
“This is my number,” she said, handing him a piece of paper. A smirk tugged at his lips-
“Oh, I will make sure to call you,” he replied, his voice laced with eagerness. Now that she was so close, her intoxicating scent sent his heart racing. Did she really want him as much as he wanted her?
“Call me if you must, if that man sues you. I will be your witness,” she said, her soft voice serious, grounding him with a sobering reality.
“Hah?” he blinked, finally meeting her gaze, confusion etched across his face.
“He is a dangerous person. You could end up in prison,” she warned.
“I appreciate your help, but I don’t want to owe you, boy. So make sure to call me if it comes to that.”
“I—” He struggled for words, feeling the weight of her seriousness.
“I will call you, but not because of that idiot.” Finally gathering his thoughts, he reached out, wanting to touch her hair, but she moved away.
“I’m not looking for a suitor. Especially not an underage one. Take care,” she said, her tone turning cold as she turned her back on him.
“But…” he called after her, his voice barely a whisper, heartbroken as he looked down at the piece of paper she had left behind. At least I got her phone number, he thought, a bittersweet smile appeared on his face.
Langouste—a name that rolled off the tongue like honey, yet felt as bitter as poison in Felix's mouth. It was a pretentious restaurant, visited by people who wore their wealth like a badge of honor, each glance a judgment, each whisper a condemnation. When Luka DeFranco and Nikolai Soldatov finally joined him at the table, Felix refused to acknowledge their presence. He didn’t rise to greet them or extend a hand; he merely regarded them with a cool, defiant stare. It was a deliberate act of rebellion.
He thought of Vivien, for the first time in years, once she was his guiding light. What would she think of him now? Would she be proud of the choices he was forced to make, or would she feel disgusted?
“Luka wants to employ you,” Nikolai announced, his voice calm, devoid of the warmth that should have accompanied such a statement.
“So from now on, you will be working more for him than for us.” Felix nodded, but his heart raced with trepidation. “For what money?” he asked, his voice betraying none of the anxiety that churned within him.
“You will be well paid,” Nikolai continued, taking a sip from his glass, “but what I need you to do is not exactly conventional.” Felix’s stomach twisted at the words.
“What does that mean now?” he asked, his voice rising in anger as he shot a fierce glare at Luka, who sat with an unsettling calmness. The man triggered something deep within him, a loathing that reached beyond mere dislike. He was a shady figure, a stranger who carried an air of menace that Felix found suffocating. The name DeFranco was one he had heard whispered in hushed tones, often in connection with danger and betrayal.
“I need you to kill Helena Claus. Jozef Claus’s wife,” Luka finally stated, his expression unreadable. Felix's confidence shattered in an instant, leaving him feeling raw and exposed.
“Why?” he stammered, desperately trying to recapture his bravado.
“Because that woman will cause us problems if she stays alive.”
“She is just a woman,” Felix protested weakly, the words feeling hollow.
“A woman who wants to run away with a gifted child who is key to our plans. Her husband needs her dead,” Luka replied, his tone dismissive.
“What child?” Felix’s heart raced, a sense of foreboding creeping in.
“Vivien Claus, Felix. That name ring a bell?” Nikolai asked, a smirk playing on his lips. A wave of emotion washed over Felix, tears stinging his eyes. He fought desperately to blink them away, pinching his legs beneath the table in an attempt to regain control. He couldn’t allow them to see his weakness.
“Of course, I will do it. I will kill her,” he said, his voice laced with panic, the words tumbling out before he could think them through.
“Very well, what a good boy you are,” Luka replied with a sinister smirk, raising his glass in mock celebration.
“We will send you the details of her location. You will travel tomorrow at dusk.” Finally, it all clicked into place—the house he had received, the car that was now parked in his driveway, the people who worked under him. Everything came at a price, and it was a bloody, grotesque price. Felix stepped into his home that night, the air heavy with the scent of new furniture, but it felt tainted, marred by the weight of broken morals. The grandeur of the manor only served to amplify his guilt, each corner whispering of choices he never wanted to make. He summoned Emil, who lived next door, his friend seemingly untouched by the darkness that now enveloped Felix. Emil appeared in swimming trunks, carefree and oblivious to the storm brewing within Felix. “We need to go,” Felix ordered, his voice sharp.
“Where?” Emil asked, confusion etching his features.
“To Saskylakh.”
“Ah, new assignment. When do we go?” Emil replied, still lounging in the comfort of his summer day.
“Now!” Felix yelled, frustration boiling over.
“Now? Are they nuts? Can’t they give an order at least a day earlier?” Emil protested, but Felix’s fury was palpable.
“This is an order for me! Go put some clothes on! Now!” The urgency in Felix’s voice brooked no argument. Finally, Emil’s demeanor shifted, understanding the gravity of the situation, and he obeyed without further question. Fifteen minutes later, they were in the car, the engine’s roar a reminder of the task ahead—a task that threatened to unravel everything Felix had fought to hold onto. As they sped into the night, Felix felt the weight of his choices pressing down on him, a heavy shroud of uncertainty and dread. Each heartbeat echoed with the knowledge of what he was about to do, a haunting premonition that gripped him tightly, leaving him gasping for breath amidst the turmoil of his thoughts.
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