“That already took a spin in our casino. It’s clean,” he points out.
One of the fat twins puts a money counter on the table between us and feeds it with cash. Jesus, this is gonna take a long time and I don’t think I can take another hour looking at those shitfaces.
We’re all standing in the lobby, the cash and counter on a small coffee table between us. Adrien is tapping his foot on the floor or biting the insides of his cheeks.
He probably took something. I need to get him clean before he’s spiraling in that shit again. I stand next to him motionless, scanning my surroundings quietly as always.
The wheels in my head always play out all the scenarios of the situation, even if it’s the safest meeting. One of our guards is outside the main door, the rest are somewhere outside. The twins always insist on the guards being sent away. I guess it’s fair and I don’t really care. I could break their necks with my bare hands if needed.
One of the twins looks at me, tracing the scars on my hands and I give him a sly smile and wink when he lifts his eyes back to mine. He smiles back. Jesus, he’s ugly. What is he, fifty?
Everyone always stares at my hands. I like it when I catch them. They’re probably thinking about what happened to me. I like them confused. But his eyes suddenly jump behind me andAdrien. The man’s disgusting smile gets even uglier as he stares behind us.
“Who’s this little lost puppy?” His smoked out voice makes my insides curl.
The other twin looks to see who he’s talking about, Adrien and me doing the same, slowly turning our heads behind us.
No fucking way.
Not now.
What the hell is she doing here? How did she get out of her room?
I can’t believe this woman.
Can she stop making problems for one fucking second?
I didn’t play out this scenario in my head. No plan. Fuck.
Mine and Adrien’s eyes meet for a quick second, enough to exchange a whole internal panic conversation. We turn our heads back to Lucien’s guys.
Just keep calm. Don’t make it obvious. I panic on the inside but keep my stone face on the outside.
Maybe they won’t recognize her.
“Finish the counting and get out.” Adrien demands of the twins.
She’s frozen for a second but then I see peripherally how she starts to slowly walk backward.
“Don’t. Move.” I grit out, shooting the words her way.
But the twins don’t count anymore and stare at Kiara instead.
My gut is turning into a knot, my scars hurting as I clench my fists next to my body.
“Wait,” the fuglier twin says, “it’s the journalist. Isn’t she supposed to be dead?”
No, no, no, no, no.
This is not happening.
The twins circle the little table, slowly walking toward Kiara one from each side. Adrien and I start walking backward towardher, keeping us between her and the twins, but they don’t look bothered with us. Me and Adrien’s shoulders meet as our backs hit Kiara, so we cover her entirely.
“I see there was a misunderstanding,” the twin says, and his smelly breath hits my nose. “Lucien requested her death yesterday, am I right?” he asks, looking at his doppelganger. Then, their eyes flick between the three of us.
“Oh, I see. So which one of you gets the back and which one gets the front?” he laughs.
Adrien’s and my eyes clash once more, and I give him the tiniest nod. I shoot my hands out and lock my arm around his fat neck with the inside of my elbow, turn him around quickly, my other hand on his sweaty forehead, his shock giving me enough time to break his neck. I feel the snap resonate in my hands, and his body suddenly dead weight. I drop it on the floor.
