Blade

Chapter 24: In too deep

Blade

"How did it happen?" I ask through clenched teeth, my grip on the beer bottle tightening until my knuckles turn stark white.

Franco narrows his eyes at me, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face before he speaks. "We're not exactly sure what happened, Blade, but someone told us that before the explosion, a certain group of strippers performed, and they weren't the ones that were hired."

"Bianca Roberts," I mutter, irritation lacing my voice.

"That's right." Franco hums in agreement, while Nico keeps his eyes glued to the laptop, fingers moving quickly across the keys. "The girls who were supposed to perform were found dead behind the building, dumped by the dumpster."

I take a long swig of beer, hoping to drown the raging storm inside me. The bitter liquid mixes with the metallic tang of blood lingering on my tongue as I chew at the inside of my cheek. Someone is going to pay with their life. "Who else could be behind the murder other than that fucking bitch?" I growl, the words tasting of anger and venom.

Franco nods slowly, and continues. "They tried to make it look like a coincidence, but a closer look tells a different story. The girls were killed at exactly 8:30 pm. Bianca and her fellow strippers performed at 8:35. It seems she didn't do a clean job and left behind evidence that will lead right to her."

My ears perks up as I sit up straight and place the bottle of beer back on the table. "What kind of evidence?"

A smirk curls on Franco's lips as he pulls a piece of jewelry from his pocket and sets it on my desk. He grabs an image from the unsorted files and slides it toward me. "As you can see in this picture, Bianca wears the same necklace I found next to the bodies. Clearly, she did not expect it to fall off during her mission."

I examine the worthless piece of jewelry, probably from the 19th century, and let my mind wander. It feels like the person trying to destroy me is playing a childish game of cat and mouse. They seem to forget who they are dealing with. The devil does not like games, especially when his opponent wants to be the cat or the big bad wolf.

He thrives on control and savors the downfall of his enemies. He is a ferocious tiger, thirsting for their blood. A predator who hunts his prey and takes pleasure in their helplessness.

If it's a game he wants, then it's a game he will have. This time, I make the first move.

I take a long sip of beer and fix my glare on the woman in the picture. Your time on this earth is over, Bianca. Time to say goodbye. No one causes chaos in my territory and walks away. "Take some men with you and bring her to me alive."

Franco cracks his neck, a smirk spreading across his face. "Your wish is my command, boss, but if she tries to act all stubborn, I don't think I could stop myself from blowing her brains out."

I frown and repeat firmly, "I want her alive, Franco."

He rolls his eyes at me, before turning on his heel and striding out of my office, the sound of his footsteps fading down the hallway.

*****

Nico and I drift into the game room after I change into soft grey sweatpants and a plain white T-shirt that smells faintly of detergent. The lamp in the corner casts a warm pool of light over the couch; the carpet squishes pleasantly under my feet.

He opens the mini fridge and produces two chilled bottles of root beer, condensation beading on the glass, then arranges an assortment of salty and sweet snacks across the coffee table. The sight of chips, gummy bears, and a half-opened bag of pretzel sticks makes the room feel instantly lived-in and easy.