Page 116 of Sinful Lord

At least I’m semi-prepared this time. The old Russian only gets that one shot off before I manage to pull my gun back out.

Together, we pick off Timo’s guards. One by one, they fall to the floor. Some only take a single shot to end, others take a few more, but when the smoke clears, only three of us remain among the living.

Maksim. Me. And our new friend Timo.

The German gangster is cowering in the corner, hands over his greasy yellow hair.

I go to gather him.

“Stand up, you pathetic piece of—”

“No, please! Don’t kill me,” Timo screeches as I lift him up by his shiny collar. “I’ll tell you all I know, I swear!”

“Fucking coward,” Maksim grumbles from behind me.

“You’re lucky I haven’t already killed you,” I sneer. “Fucking pimp piece of shit

“I’m a landlord, that’s all,” Timo squeaks.

“Idiot. You already connected yourself to the men who stole my girl. Or did you forget?”

I no longer care that Maksim is here, I’m not holding anything back. Melina is my girl. And I just want to get out of here and back to her.

It’s a strange feeling.

Usually, being on a job like this is my version of heaven. Killing, scheming, conquering. When I’m doing that, I’m in my element. But now it just feels like a fucking side quest. Something I need to do in order to ensure the safety of what really matters.

God damn. What has she done to me?

“Just acquaintances,” Timo squirms. “They were just acquaintances.”

“You called them ‘your men’,” Maksim reminds him. “You said you wanted to find out who killed them too.”

“No. No. That was a lie. I… I already know who killed them… he came to me… he confessed… he…”

“You MET him?” I roar.

Yanking Timo’s collar, I shove him against the wall so hard the entire office rattles.

My heart is absolutely pounding. I have tunnel vision. This fucker knows.

“Yes,” Timo chokes. “Please, I can’t breathe…”

My patience is non-existent. Still, I’m so close to finally finding the truth that I give the coward his wish.

Throwing him aside, I let Timo crash into his desk.

“Start talking,” I demand.

But before the slum lord can speak up, a whirring sound snaps my attention to the far wall. My gun is drawn before I even know what’s happening. It only takes a second to figure out what’s happening.

The far wall of this office isn’t a wall at all, but rather a window. The giant grey blind slowly lifts, and we’re greeted by a mirage of strobe lights.

Suddenly, we’re overlooking the dance floor. Across from that, a crowded balcony throbs with people.

“Fuck,” I curse, covering my eyes. “Did you fucking do that?”

Storming forward, I grab Timo again and shove him into his chair. Then, I press the barrel of my gun directly between his eyes.