SHUT DOWN | JENLISA

8

Jennie

Life wasn't worth as much as it was when I was a little child. It felt like I was living, breathing, moving through these motions with a dull and empty ache in my chest.

Men never had to deal with such crude backlash in the business world. They didn't have to double down on themselves and doubt their decisions, and question every word, idea, and plan. Men had that luxury. And I didn't.

I'd be a bitch to these men because they wouldn't allow themselves to see me any other way. It wasn't like when a man closed a deal or did things his own way to win, and people congratulated him.

For a woman to do anything successfully, to make a name for herself, to achieve, or to accomplish was deemed something unfit. It was looked down upon, demeaned, belittled, and if men were able to get their claws in deeper, they'd say she fucked her way to the top.

I mean, in a peculiar way, it was almost flattering, as if our vaginas were magical, and fucking a fifty-year-old stockbroker helped us achieve our goals. Mino backhanded Michael, who was pitifully tied down in the chair that he sat in more than once and disrespected me.

"You dug your grave, Michael. Maintenant, couchez-vous dedans." I spoke in French, and his eyes widened. (Translation: Now, lie in it)

"Of course, you'd be surprised. Men really view women as dispensable beings." I sighed and leaned forward to wipe the blood off his lip. "I told you at the very beginning. Don't be my enemy. I've warned you, Michael. I don't give second chances."

I pulled out the gun from my back pocket and checked the bullet chamber before taking the safety off. I aimed it at his forehead. "Goodnight, connard." (Translation: Asshole)

A silenced shot pierced through his forehead, and his head lulled forward. I turned over to Mino, who was already taking his pocketknife so he could cut his ropes off and discard the body. I hid my gun away and pulled out my phone to call Jessie.

"Send his wife a thank you gift. Something preferably in diamonds."

"Done. Are you finished with business?"

"Yes, I want the jet here in an hour."

"It'll be there in an hour."

I hung up and walked out of the room, and two men stayed by my sides as we headed toward the car. I waited inside patiently for Mino to finish his work, and once he was done, we were on our way back to the hotel.

The jet was waiting for us in exactly an hour, and once we boarded, I let out a relieved sigh as I leaned my head back on the chair. Every day that passed me by reminded me of how far I've come and how much I've done to get to where I am.

Immortality was proven to be exhausting, draining, and expensive. Power was cheaper and easier to come upon, and as I looked out of the jet's window, I knew that I would probably die before I ever became immortal.

The man that helped me all those years ago told me the next best thing was power, but now that I had it, now that it was in my hands, I didn't know if it was enough. It didn't feel like enough. Yes, I was living a good life. A posh life, if you must, and it wasn't the solitude that had me sceptical; no, I didn't mind being alone.

I was so used to being alone that it was second nature to me. It was knowing that it didn't matter how much money I made or how successful I was; my parents wouldn't be resurrected from their graves.

My success and fame, and bank accounts were all for show because I couldn't even spoil my parents with them. I didn't have them to share it with. I viewed moments like this as moments of weakness, and I knew better than to be ungrateful. I came from nothing, and now I had everything.

Mino dropped me off at my place, and security stayed outside my gated and privately secured estate since Mino was heading to check out the revenues, I was too tired to check them out. The France trip really took it out of me, and it wasn't because I killed a man.

That wasn't anything new to me. I'd gotten used to the feeling of taking a life. Especially a life that didn't learn, a life that didn't listen, and especially a life that disrespected me.