Page 41 of Downfall

He clicks his fingers for wine. The girl beside my steps forward and fills his glass with a scarlet liquid so reminiscent of blood it wouldn’t surprise me if it was.

He takes a long slurp then puts the glass down before picking up his cutlery once more and barking out for salt.

I step forward, pick up the shaker, and sprinkle a little on his food. He barks for more so that’s what I give him. Enough to kill a pig.

He gobbles his food down. Mouthful after mouthful as I watch.

And just as he clears the plate I step forward once more. He looks at me, his eyes flashing in fury because I haven’t been called. I’m acting out by all accounts.

“I hope your dinner was satisfactory.” I murmur. “Because it’s the last meal you’ll ever have.”

He frowns before his eyes register who I am. He grabs the knife, lunges at me and I laugh, easily disabling him before pushing him back into his chair.

In one quick movement I drive the blade that I’ve claimed into his hand, securing it to the table. He screams out trying to fight, but his movements are languid. Slow. The poison is starting to work.

All the other waiters are gone. The door slams shut as they flee though I’m not worried that any of them will say anything. Besides it doesn’t matter if they do. I’ll be long gone by the time anyone arrives, I’ve already seen to it by having Ben creating a nice little distraction the other side of the city.

I lean in, my mouth up against his ear as he continues to fight.

“The poison works fast doesn’t it?” I taunt.

He groans. His legs kick out, slamming into the bottom of the table and as I watch he gasps for every last breath of air taking more delight than I believed possible.

When he slumps forward his face lands into the very dish that poisoned him.

I grab his head by his hair, yanking it back before I begin to hack it off, ignoring the spray of blood as I get to work.

Roman

Istand in the shadows. Hide in them. Just like always.

And just like always he has no idea I’m here.

He sighs sinking into the oversized leather office chair and rubs his eyes like he’s had a hard day. I smirk at that because it’s about to get a whole lot worse.

I take a step.

Then another.

Despite the expensive boots I have on I’m as silent as a ghost and I know he doesn’t hear a thing, doesn’t even realise until the muzzle of my gun presses into his neck.

He freezes. A murmur of shock passes his lips.

“Don’t move.” I say.

“What do you want?” The standard stupid response.

I lay out the photos. One after another. There are only three but they’re the three worst. The three most incriminating of my collection.

He gulps and I physically hear his saliva slipping down his throat.

“That’s not what you think it is…”

I laugh a mocking laugh. “Oh I think it is Darius.” I murmur.

“Look we can sort this out. Put the gun away, let’s discuss this like gentlemen.”

He’s trembling so much he’s making my gun shake as it lies against him.

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