Kiss me if you dare [ENGLISH]

Chapter 2

Charmey

The captivating flames danced like fairies in her ice-blue irises. She had been staring into the fire for over an hour now without looking away. Fire was among the things she loved most – beautiful, yet simultaneously frightening. The delightful sensation of heat almost excited her. She preferred that kind of warmth over what human bodies had to offer. Sure, she had tried in her younger days, but no one had met her high standards. Besides, most people were unpredictable and emotionally driven – easy to manipulate, and easy to exploit. She remained seated, utterly silent, until the last ember had extinguished. Only then did she come back to life.

The apartment was spacious, with high ceilings. Along the patterned wallpaper, furniture made of expensive materials from France posed – specially designed. She hadn't owned the place for very long, hastily signing the contract that had previously belonged to a high-ranking politician. It turned out he had suffered a sudden heart attack and died. The paintings that brought life to the sun-faded walls depicted all sorts of subjects and remained in the same places as when she moved in. Charmey had never found much interest in art at all, but these paintings were abstract and uniquely relatable.

Apart from the artwork, the wine-red fur rug in front of the fireplace was the only thing she hadn't personally funded. It came from a previous client – wealthy and old, yet incredibly stingy. He had crossed her and believed he would get away with it. That same evening, she had entered his dwelling, tied him to the bed, and smothered him with his pillow. She had then seized his most valuable possession, which he had bragged about many times, and now it lay here in her apartment. It wasn't worth more than money, but she had needed to take something of value and wasn't satisfied with fear alone in his eyes. Fortunately, he didn't have connections in powerful gangs. If he did, she would have had to flee to another city, and she was content in Thornhill. It wasn't large in terms of area, but the range of clothes, decor, and other goods was enormous. Moreover, they served the best coffee in the center. Given her profession, she knew that eventually, she would have to leave, but she hoped it would be a long time.

The money she had earned from her latest murder was already spent on several bags filled with designer clothes that she hadn't yet removed the price tags. Owning something gave her a certain satisfaction, of course, but the feeling often faded after a few days. She had thrown away boxes of exclusive garments and items that had never been used before settling in Thornhill.

Charmey was just about to head to the bathroom when her phone vibrated. It was likely a new client or a former client wanting to place another order. Considering her finesse and sense of perfection, it wasn't uncommon for clients to contact her again for additional bookings. It didn't bother her as long as they didn't attempt to form a personal attachment. The worst thing she knew was when gang leaders assumed she only worked for them. Charmey didn't belong to anyone – ever. People could believe so; it made them more vulnerable and easier to deceive, but she never allowed herself to be overpowered.

The number on the screen was hidden, and when she answered, a coarse male voice sounded. "Charmey?"

"Who's this?" she asked and took a few steps closer to the glass wall, offering a spectacular view of the city. It wasn't raining like yesterday, just overcast. The clouds were dark, and somewhere in the distance, she could sense that it would become sunny towards the evening.

"Does it matter?! Meet me at three o'clock in the parking garage under the sports hall."

He sounded annoyed and probably thought he was incredibly powerful and unreachable. These types existed everywhere in the underworld, and they operated in precisely the same way: if you gave them what they wanted, you were rewarded; if you defied them, you were punished. They always had loyal people around them, won through money or torture, but if they made a mistake, the whole system could collapse. That was their weakness.