#𝟓 ▪ 𝐆𝐮𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐬.
❝Do you know what my first rule is?❞ I purred, softly.
His eyes became dark and dangerous. My favourite combination. ❝What?❞
I smiled.
❝Don't fall for pretty things.❞
▪︎
Marielle Kolsov has spent most of her life h...
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chapter thirteen
{Castor}
"MR SOKORIN, WHERE WERE YOU ON THE NIGHT OF SEPTEMBER 15TH?" I walked to the table, placing my files and notes in a systematic order, without glancing at the criminal.
Shackles rattled. "I want my lawyer."
"And I want a holiday."
From the corner of the room, I heard Levi snort at my retort.
"It's my right," Sokorin hissed, his cuffs thundering as he yanked at them.
Slowly, I looked up, meeting the black eye I had gifted Rolan Sokorin. "And what about those women you killed? Did you care about their rights to live?"
Rolan's jaw tensed. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Studying the man, I eventually sank into my chair, spinning a pen in between my fingers. Once. Twice. Three times, before I spoke again, "Let me be frank. In less than 16 hours, Marielle Kolsov plans on coming for you. I suspect she'll be less merciful than I am. So unless you speak, the guards on your shifts will conveniently forget to walk by tonight, leaving you utterly exposed."
Wariness flickered in Rolan's eye as he digested the depth of my threat. "And if I do speak?"
"I'll have you shipped to a cell far, far away - one that she'd never find you in," I replied, somewhat honestly. "It's your call. But you don't have much time, Sokorin."
Releasing the pen from my grasp, it rolled down the table until it bounced off Rolan's chained hands. The man chewed his lips as he debated on what decision to make, even though he and I both knew which he'd choose. After much not-needed deliberation, he gingerly looked up with a narrowed eye.
"And I will be safe?"
Before I could respond, Levi groaned in frustration and slammed his fists onto the table, frightening the poor guy as he hissed, "Where were you on the night of September 15th?"
The hesitance didn't pass, and neither did his reluctance as he responded, "We're given names. That's all that is given. I didn't know who the girls were or why she was wanted, but I get paid to spill blood."
"Rather destructively, if I do say," I commented, tossing a picture of a victim who unfortunately passed upon the assault. Rolan spared a single glance before he looked away, no pity, no regret. There was an evident difference between serial killers and mercenaries because while mercenaries got paid for their crimes, serial killers found pleasure in it. Rolan was no serial killer.
"It was ordered."
"By who?" Levi's voice was as chilly as the look Marielle gave when she saw Rolan. The memory almost had me shudder but I forced my body to still and keep my emotions in check.
