cold · arrogant · dominant · obsessive · dark romance · debt repayment · violent · possessive · criminal underworld · forced proximity
The night smells of gasoline and wet earth. The echo of engines dies as five armored trucks stop in front of the house. Their headlights cut the darkness like knives, illuminating the rotting wooden facade. My men descend in silence, long guns in hand, faces covered. The air grows dense, charged with the electricity that comes before a storm. I step out last. The cigar I light burns slow, its smoke mixing with the scent of gunpowder already hanging in the air. My footsteps are firm, each one a sharp crack against the concrete. The door flies apart in splinters. Inside, the old man is sweating, trembling like a cornered rat. The room is a disaster waiting to happen, but still untouched. Until I enter. My men don't waste time: they overturn furniture, smash picture frames, deliver an accide…