𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝟏𝟗 | 𝐨𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐈 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐊𝐎𝐕

Enchanted is the word I would've used to describe the feeling I had due to the image that was once in front of me. Her head tilted backwards, her mouth fallen agape and her cheeks rosey red as I allowed her to ride out her high.

I desperately needed to have that image in my head, playing over and over again.

So what did I do?

I hacked into the club's surveillance system and downloaded that exact footage.

Of course, Adrianna is the one who has ownership of all the footage. I'm more than sure that since her killing her head of security, she's the one who stepped up to the plate and took the role.

"Prosypat'sya, Volkov." I'm shaken from my trance as Dimitri hits my shoulder playfully, and I scowl in response to him. (translation - Russian. "Wake up")

"Chto tebe ot menya nuzhno?" I ask as I re-situate myself in the chair that squeaks as I move it, mentally reminding myself to order a new one. (translation - Russian. "What do you want?")

My eyes are trained on Dimitri as he sits himself down onto the chair parallel to me. His eyes also never leave mine as he eyes me suspiciously, almost like he's trying to eye me out.

"When do you plan on killing her?" His question answers all of my thoughts, confirming my theories on him trying to get something out of me.

Silence rattles the room as my mind ponders millions of ways in which to reply to him. Truthfully, I'm not sure when. Maybe how, even. I don't know purely because I haven't been thinking straight for the past few days, and it's all caught up to me now.

Fuck.

"Soon." I reply and stand, ready to make my way out of here. Dimitri certainly isn't clueless by all means, however one thing I'm not going to let him do is question me on my situation.

"Volkov, I'm not-" I leave the room, shutting the door on my way out as I disrupt his useless speech, not even wanting to bare his voice.

I wander the halls of the extension of my tattoo parlour, the building service as a base for my business, and sometimes even a house.

One thing I can't digest is seeing my mother drowning herself in substances that completely paralyse her, and also wash away her happy self.

Ever since my father and sister died, nothing was the same. I never thought in a million years that losing a half of my intermediate family would result in me having to fend for myself in such a cruel world.

As I walk out of the headquarters and into the tattoo parlour, I'm instantly greeted with the cashier, Natasha. And just from my eyes being placed on her, I can already feel the desperation dripping from her.

"Where you off to?" She hums, with that damn awful voice whilst tilting her head and squinting at me with a smile like a fucking Cheshire Cat.

I don't answer her, instead I carry on my trail towards the entrance, however I'm suddenly stopped by the touch of her hand against my back as to which I tense in response.

I spin on my heel, levelling my eyes with hers.
I reach my hand out, gripping her wrist and pry her hand off of me, trying my best to not make more contact with her than necessary.