“The snow on the ground isn’t even as cold as you are.”
“My father is.”
“Your father is a pile of shit.”
“He is,” I say with a sigh. “Come on, we are here.” Adam and I step into the building and announce ourselves to the kind receptionist. Our meeting was at 1 p.m., and it’s now twenty minutes past one. Patience is not one of my virtues, and these assholes are starting to get on my nerves. Having a potential rich client waiting in the reception area is bad practice. Punctuality should be the norm, not celebrated.
And these two are treating it like a minor inconvenience.
“Adam, if these two don’t get here in about two minutes, I’m going to flip the fuck out.”
“Fine. Let’s ask the receptionist what’s holding them up.” Adam walks up to the receptionist, and I see her pointing to the elevator. Adam motions for me to come.
“She said that it’s weird that they are still not down here, but that we could go upstairs to their office.”
“Let’s do this.” We press the elevator button and get in.
“What negotiation tactics are you going to pull out of your ass today?” I roll my eyes at Adam’s question.
“I’m going to behave like a true gentleman. I’ll try.” My friend doesn’t even try to hide his bored look. Once we get to the fifth floor, we head toward their office. The door is slightly open, and something feels off.
“Adam.”
“I know, M.” It’s a good idea to bring Adam, as he is a master at assessing situations even before chaos breaks out. We check if someone is here to look at us, but it seems we are the only ones on this floor.
We get inside, and I reach for my knife while Adam grabs his gun as soon as we see the scene before us.
“I guess you won’t be needing any negotiation skills today.”
“Damn. I really hoped I would be the one to cause harm.” The two brothers, the CEOs, are lying flat on the floor, with a bullet in their skulls.
“I know that they weren’t likable, but they were clean. Hana checked them out and told us they were okay.” Until they weren’t, the only R-word I feel is regret. Regret that I didn’t kill them. Maybe someone murdered them because they were constantly fucking late?
I step over the bodies and notice something in the window—a crack. With my finger, I trace an invisible line, and it matches up to what I’m expecting. Someone sniped the brothers.
“What do you think?” I ask Adam after I explain what I think happened. He nods in agreement.
“Somebody murdered them, and they did an amazing job. I can’t find anything.”
We are dealing with a professional, and agoodone.
Even though some individuals may call themselves “assassins,” they are not; they lack the sophistication and the ability to wait for a job before executing it perfectly. Not this one, this one is really fucking good.
“What are we going to do?” Adam inquires.
“We are going to go downstairs and pretend like we just stepped into this scene and let them handle the rest with the police.”
“Affirmative.”
***
After we informed the authorities, the father of the two dead cunts came and did damage control. He offered us to use the building at a discounted price, not even caring that his sons were gunned down. Is being a shitty dad something that’s common in business? I couldn’t care less if somebody got assassinated, I gota building out of it. I told the shitty dad to contact our lawyers. Money well fucking spent.
We are in the car and talking about what we are going to do tonight.
“I’m going to chill out with Sara, if you know what I mean.” Adam is probably going to do freaky stuff with Sara, and I want to block that image.
“Adam, I don’t need to know that.”
