𝐓𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡

𝟒𝟕 | 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

"Guys, you have heard," he turned his head to his companions, "the lady does not want you to touch her." One of them snorted.

"If this is a lady, then-" The man — rather a boy — did not have time to complete the sentence, and he already had a weapon under his chin held by his superior.

"Is there a problem, Alexander?" Mercado asked coldly. A well-built blond boy squinted and swallowed dryly.

"No, sir," he said reluctantly.

"I thought so," Mercado snapped. However, he still dug his weapon into his chin. It was as if Alexander had stopped breathing for a second. Everyone was anxiously waiting for what would happen. Everyone except me. I knew very well what Mercado was all about. Same as Lucifer, he also tried to maintain people's loyalty by scaring them, making them think that an opinion different from their boss, equals their death.

I knew he won't kill him.

Mercado watched me.

"Ria, the bag is waiting," he said, letting go of Alexander. With a feigned willingness, I threw my backpack out of my shoulders and pulled a gun out of my jacket. I threw everything in my briefcase and, with my hands outstretched like Jesus on the cross, walked through the door again. The warning signal sounded again. This got me more attention.

"I told you to get rid of everything," Mercado emphasized.

"Sorry, I must not hear it well, maybe there's something with the echo in your apartment," I smirked. The figures behind me approached me cautiously, and I felt a strange breath on my skin. I was sure it belonged to Alexander. He was standing right behind me, waiting for further instructions. I bet he felt humiliated after his boss scolded him. Now he would do anything to appear better in front of Mercado. If he had sensed that my intentions were not pure, he would not hesitate and kill me right away. "If I were you, I'd choose another room," I said, as if someone cared, and quickly examined the area. "Maybe something classier." Well, this room was definitely very classy. I don't think anything more "classy" could be found. I felt like I had never seen a hotel room as spacious as this one. The high ceiling, from which hung golden chandeliers glittering like the most expensive jewels in the world, the walls painted with light mocha color in combination with stone brown were a perfect choice. They were covered with paintings of various sizes. The white sofa looked like it was made from cotton candy. Everything in this place looked perfect. And I didn't even see the whole apartment.

The white marble beneath my feet was too white for so many sinners to stand on it. I didn't like the sheer despair I saw on my face in the reflection of the floor at all.

"This room is the most luxurious they have here," Mercado said. He managed to disguise any emotions very well. Like my father ... When I remembered Lucifer, a fire broke out inside me, and I was afraid that if I didn't release the steam soon, not only these filthy people would pay for it, but also innocent people.

"Then the hotel needs to be replaced," I blurted out with a voice sharp like a razor. Mercado raised the right corner of his mouth, making my stomach heave.

"You have quite a sharp tongue, dear," he remarked, and I hoped that was all the old man had on his mind. But it wasn't. "I wonder what you can do with it."

The thought of what this man would be able to do, shake me.

Mercado's men chuckled. I caught Alexander's face with a smirk from ear to ear. When our eyes met, the blond guy stopped smiling and puffed his lips. Disgusted, I looked away at the black man standing next to him. If he hadn't aimed his gun at me, I'd admit he looked likable. I tried to figure out what made him different from his colleagues. He was the only one, who was not looking at me like I was the waste of society or a dead girl walking.

"Talk to me like that again, and I'll show you how I can throw knives with it," I threatened, having enough of these games.

Mercado barely nodded noticeably, letting his men know it was time for an inspection.

"Search," he muttered. Alexander took the chance and placed his big palms on me. He slid them over my body. Every time I felt his touch on my skin, seemed like suffering to me. But it was far from a real hell. I knew the worst hadn't happened yet, so I just stood there. I had to gain Mercado's trust and behave professionally. Even though I was just a stupid kid who was born into the wrong family and found herself at the wrong time, in the wrong place.

A stranger with cocoa skin watched the show in front of him silently. When Alexander grabbed me by the back of the thigh and squeezed me, the stranger took a small step forward. Who is he and why does he behave differently than others?

"What is Miss hiding there?" Alexander asked and Mercado's attention intensified. "Can you show us?"

"Should I undress here in front of everyone?" I said resignedly.

"You should have thought of that before you hid something there," Alexander mused. "Will you do it yourself or should I help you?" he asked, his eyes glowing with excitement.

"Oh, what a gentleman you are," I smiled ironically, pulling down my pants without hesitation. Exactly where Alexander's hand had just touched was the cloth case and knife. Alexander whistled and gave me another smirk.

"Look, boss, Miss O'Donnell really wants to show you how she can throw knives with her tongue."

"You guessed it," I nodded in agreement. "And you'll be the first target." I quickly removed the knife from the holster, and Mercado's men surrounded me on all sides, with weapons ready to fire. I smiled smugly. Does everyone really underestimate me like that? Why actually? Just because I'm a girl?

I turned the knife so that the sharp part pointed at me and threw it away. The knife fell directly into the suitcase, where the other weapons were.

"Would you like a drink, Ria?" Mercado asked hospitably, heading for another room. I pulled my pants back on and followed him, this time alone.