no man's land || kgf (slow updates)

eight

TW | death

1971
SOUTH AFRICA

"You can go. I'll take care of it." She said giving a charming smile as she gently pushed the maid to the side and stirred the cup of coffee. 

The maid bent in respect and walked out. As the footsteps faded away, she reached into the folded sash on her waist and slowly slipped out the little bag and loosened the drawstrings. 

A little bottle with crystals almost as similar as sugar except it had a dark colour, fell onto her palm. She slowly uncorked it and tipped it into the cup. A satisfied smile gracing her face as it dissolved into the concotion. 

She held the tray with the cup and slowly walked out of the kitchen and to the main bed room where he would be there. 

Amari Eusuolo. 

One of the most powerful men in the world. His wealth knew no bounds. He had single handedly managed to capture and take control over all the gold mines across Africa. 

However, he had one weakness. 

Women. 

He lusted over them. He was a fool when it came to women. 

He would inappropriately touch the maids and servants working there. He would order the young girls of the workers to be in the mansion for his entertainment. 

And that was how she was here. 

Amari had a particular obssession over the young girl. 

She was beautiful. 

Exquisite, said the French artist who had once stopped by the mansion to paint a portrait for Amari. 

How he ended up dead in a trench the very next day wasn't exactly a mystery to anyone in the land. 

Amari was extremely possessive over his things. And the most precious of them all was her. 

She was described as the kind of beauty that could mesmerize a man with just a glance. Her brown skin shined like polished wood under the dim moonlight filtering through the high windows. 

Her dark brown hair fell in thick waves past her hips, the ends hitting her back as she walked with a tantalizing swing to her hips. 

The young girl was enchanting. 

Her black eyes lined with kajal and a blood red tint to her lips made her the idol of every other woman, young and old, in the mansion. 

Now, here she was in his palace, standing in front of his room with a cup of coffee.

She slowly knocked on the door of the heavily engraved wooden door. It slowly opened and there was Amari sitting at the coffee table. 

He shuffled through various papers. Some looking like maps and some like documents. 

She walked in and waved her hand, gesturing to the servants to leave. 

They bowed and left, shutting the door softly and leaving the two alone. The sound of papers shuffling and his thoughtful hum made her smirk a little. 

What is the point Amari? You wouldn't be needing this after tonight. 

And suddenly, she paused. 

Is that what she thought it was? The map of KGF? 

She walked towards him and set the tray on the mahagony table. 

She slowly walked towards him, her lean fingers slowly caressed his broad back and she settled herself on his lap. He dropped his papers immediately. his business-like aura had dropped immediately. 

"Hey" she said and slowly stroked his cheek. 

His hands immediately went to her hips and he squeezed it. his face went into the crook of her neck and he breathed her in. She smiled, her red painted lips stretching into a wide grin. 

"You've been working too hard today. I bought you some coffee." she said in a slow voice and reached over to the coffee. 

Taking the warm cup in her hands, she brought it up to his lips. 

Still watching her, enchanted by her beauty, he sipped the coffee. She watched as his throat bobbed. 

His death was confirmed now. 

She slowly got up and placed the cup down. 

"You need to sleep. We have a long day tomorrow. Lots to do. A funeral to attend." She said smirking. 

At the word 'funeral', he suddenly seemed to come to his senses. 

"Funeral? Who's?" 

"Yours" She smiled simply and shrugged. 

He watched for a while as she slowly sat on the edge of his bed and crossed her legs. The smooth brown skin of her exposed thigh distracting him for a second before he looked at the cup. 

"What have you done?" 

"Nothing much. Just some nightshade crystals instead of sugar. Tastes good doesn't it?" He suddenly clutched his chest and doubled over in pain. 

His eyes starting to turn red. His hands hopelessly moved, almost knocking over a china vase of flowers. 

But she was by the table in a minute holding the flowers and vase in her hand. She tched in irritation and said, "can't you be a little more careful? Expensive china which i received as a gift from that chinese calligraphist. It's very precious to me." 

She neatly set it on a table farther from the bed and arranged the flowers carefully. 

He dropped to the floor, he was on his knees now, choking, dying. His hands clawed at his throat, fingernails scratching at the Afghan carpet. 

"Help" he crowed. 

"Right. Okay. I need to help you." She cleared her throat and let out a shrill scream. 

"YOUR HIGHNESS! HELP SOMEONE I- " She dramatically threw herself out of the room, a look of pure fear on her face as she called for someone. 

And while she waited for them to come, she scratched her own skin with her nails. Hissing slightly she muttered, "there better be no marks."

Steps thundered around the corner. She slid to the marble floor, the coldness of the tile soothing the red marks on her skin.

Let the game begin.

author's note
me is alive. me has posted.