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Mike Morton stares at the soon-to-be-dead corpse in front of him with clear disdain. There's a smile on his lips, so innocent and pure that one would doubt he just broke someone's nose with one blow.
"I must admit that it was really brave of you to come here, attempt to murder me and still have the nerve to make fun of me after that. Never expected someone to be that dumb. Oh, well… Pattie did tell me most men are stupid. Didn't know what she meant 'till now." Mike takes one step ahead and crouches near him. He places a hand under his chin and lifts his head up. "Tell me, Bernard. How much is my head worth?"
How does he know my name?
The man whimpers as he holds his nose with both hands. Blood runs down his face and drips on the floor, his eyes wide with fear, panic…
Knowledge of what is about to happen.
"A-A lot." He mutters back and Mike arches one eyebrow. "A-Almost as much as B-Bourbon's."
There's a pause.
"Ah, really?!" Mike's eyes shine with sudden excitement. His bloodied hand moves to ruffle the man's hair. "That's nice! I'm almost as famous as her, then! Such an honor."
His sincere smile is even creepier than his mad expression from seconds ago when he tried to stab him in the throat. It makes his blood run cold.
"Mr. Morton." A tall man calls from behind the small form of Mike Morton's body. He's a few steps behind them, eyes cautious and voice deep as he continues. "We have places to be at. Don't waste our time with him."
Bernard knows who he is. Norton Campbell, the one who lots of people fear. Norton Campbell, whose fame tells he's someone who you don't want to mess with. Norton Campbell…
Who works under some 5'5'' man as his second in command.
It's weird. When he first read the letter that told him to kill this one mafia boss, Mike Morton, he expected that to be Norton Campbell's real name. He and Demi Bourbon, a beautiful and powerful woman that rules an enormous part of the underworld, are two of the most feared and respected folks around, after all.
He was… Surprised, to say the least, when he discovered he was wrong.
"It's not like we are in a hurry." Mike scoffs and rolls his eyes. "Lemme have some fun!"
The word "fun" makes shivers run down Bernard's spine. He's terrified of what these men can and wouldn't even hesitate to do. He never believed in God before, but now… He can't help but ask for help.
I don't want to die.
"No."
"Please?"
I don't want to die.
"I'll make ya do all of yer paperwork if ya insist."
"But you told me you'd do it!"
"And ya told me ya'd behave."
I don't want to die.
Mike huffs and mutters some complaints under his breath. Norton smiles at the absence of an answer.
"Last question, then, Bernard." The small blond starts. "Who told you to kill me?"
Bernard swallows hard. He knows he will be killed sooner or later, be it by this man's hands or by his boss's. He can't even feel the tears that run down his cheeks.
"Ms. Zelle."
Mike's whole face turns ice-cold for a second before he opens a wide smile again. Bernard looks behind Mike and notices that Norton's armed now.
"Well." He stands up and walks towards Norton. Mike kisses him on the cheek and whispers the order close to his ear. "Kill him for me, then."
Bernard closes his eyes. A bullet to the head seems like a nice death for someone like him.
…
The bullet hits his stomach.
[...]
"We're back!"
The smaller one's voice echos inside the enormous main room of the manor where he lives in. One dark-skinned woman stops in her tracks and looks down to the manor's door, a small smile on her lips as she stands on top of the stairs.
"Already?" She arches one eyebrow. "Did you kill someone? Wasn't it supposed to be a harmless reunion?"
A simple nod of her head towards Mike is what it takes for both of them to understand what she meant. His hand is still covered in dried blood.
"I swear it's not my fault, Pattie!"
"I'm sure it isn't. Norton?"
"It isn't, as unbelievable as it sounds. Someone tried to murder him." He explains as naturally as one would tell a friend about their day at work. "Mr. Morton punched him on the nose to defend himself."
"I see." Patricia Dorval narrows her fierce eyes. "You should see Mr. Carl. He can take care of possible injuries."
"I refuse," Mike answers in a breath. "God knows what he would do. I'd rather keep my hand."
"You're the one who told him to be our doctor."
"Yeah, 'cause we didn't have anyone else! And he knows a lot about dead bodies, so I just..." Mike pauses and understands his mistake. If he was a decent man, he'd admit that Patricia was, as usual, correct. Instead, he huffs and crosses his arms. "You're so rude, Pattie! Now I know who made Norton become so mean to me."
"I'm mean to ya?"
"Yeah!"
"Because I don't let ya do everything ya want?"
"Precisely!"
"For fuck's sake!" A voice yells from the corridor to their left, followed by the sound of a door being forcefully opened. "It's two am! Shut up!"
"Sorry, Aesop!" Mike screams back and hears the door close once more. He waits for some seconds to pass before continuing.
"Do you guys think he heard me?"