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Night had always been my closest friend.

The way it cloaked the land and wraps objects into safety. Darkness was safe, only in the light could you see what you have done. For me, murdering in darkness had become comforting, it was weird but it was how I was able to sleep at night. The thought of murder was a numbed subject in my mind nowadays, taking someone's life had become a lot easier over the years. It's not the murder that bothers me, it's the death.

How someone dies is a lot more important than if they are actually murdered. Painfully? I hated torturing someone to death. It was my least favorite kind of way to kill someone. Sometimes it was necessary, sometimes it was completely vital to our survival but that didn't mean I enjoyed it.

But him? I would torture him any second of any day. I would torture him for hours until he was nothing but shredded flesh and a puddle of blood. He did not deserve an easy death. He was the cause of all of my trauma, well the trauma that kept me awake at night. The trauma that did not just wrestle with my thoughts but stained my soul, that trauma was all because of him.

I never thought about the day that I would see him again. About the day that I would finally get to go face to face with my tormentor. We had agreed to be out of each other's life in exchange for things that I don't want to think about. The things that he asked me to do could ruin everything I've built, everything I stand for today. That's the very reason he asked me to do them, he knew one day I would become one of the strongest mafia leaders.

I can remember when he laughed as he said that it was only a matter of time until I took over the world. Granted the north eastern seaboard wasn't the world but it was pretty damn close. And in my six years as it's leader, that was more than impressive.

Funny how the one that destroyed you, was also the one that believed in you the most. He had been my greatest supporter. But of course that was before he was him.

"Did you see him?" I question Brooklyn as we stand at the balcony and watch the last of the cars leave the festivities.

The cool breeze runs down our spines and wraps us in a chill — or maybe it was the thought of him that left me cold. Moonlight shimmered over specks of glitter that my friend had failed to erase. I was uneasy here, anyone dumb enough could make their mark on me and shoot me down. It was more than enough reason for me to turn around and enter the slight safety of the banquet hall.

Brooklyn doesn't answer immediately, she hesitates like she's afraid of the answer. I can hear the deep inhale before she speaks, "I don't know."

"What do you mean? He's not hard to recognize." I say like she's dumb and from the look of her face, I regret saying it like that.

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