Clandestine | 18+

12~The Deal

W.D.Y.W.F.M- The neighbourhood
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"Making a deal with a worker of the devil doesn't mean you get past him."
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With each step I took my heels echoed through the walls of the hallway.

Click. Click. Click.

I smiled only hearing the sound they made. Powerful. Fearful. I straightened my back and tied my hair up. My dress hugged my curves, black to hide the color that would stain them.

Blood.

Only the word gave life to my body, reminding me who I was. Who I am. Who I became. It gave me thrill, a reason. It gave me power.

Fear. I breathed in the air of the cold atmosphere.

Fear gave me what I ought for. The fear in people's faces as I dragged my dagger low on their throat, threatening them with what they loved. Or what they were.

I was always the one that feared. The one that cared even knowing the power I withheld. I was the one begging, the one crying. I was the one who was always hurt. Always blamed.

There are victims and victors, so I escaped the first to become the latter.

Betrayal is like a beautiful poisonous fruit, ravishing from the outside, but as you take a bite and only then you realise it is lethal.

I survived the poison, only because I had an antidote.

Now, I was someone immortal to that poison simply of the fact that I learned to never let anyone adjacent me.

And that wouldn't change anytime soon.

I stopped in front of a door, knocking on it. It echoed through the white plain walls and cold flooring, giving the empty hallway the only sign of life.

Steps reverberated behind the door as the twist of the lock made a slow, long scratching sound.

"Ah, boss!" Benjamin laughed as if we were old friends. I coldly stared at him.

"Don't play, Benjamin. Tell me where Dmitri is." I relaxed my vocal cords and it felt as if I finally clearly breathed in a long time, and slowly closed my eyes, drowning in the feeling of my own self and not anyone else's.

"Boss? You coming?" Benjamin yelled inside the room as Marina cursed at him to shut up.

"I am." I informed the moment I stepped foot into the room, but the echo of my heels gave it away before my voice.

Tied to chains was dear Dmitri, the little asshole who was gaining information about me to spill to my husband.

"Estelle?" He said surprised, his voice deep as blood dripped from his mouth and his brows furrowed.

I walked closer, my shoulders rolled back and my chin up. My dress fooled, my heels gave you a glimpse of elegance with power and my dagger screamed danger.

"Yes, Dmitri?" I tilted my head right, using the well-known voice I'm sure he'd recognise.

He stilled, his bruised and bloodied muscles tensed.

His cashmere unbuttoned shirt had a deep stain of red in the middle, his right thigh had dried blood on his clear luxury pants. His throat swallowed, making his Adam's apple clearer. His jawline was sharp, his nose with a slight curve that only made him more interesting, his lips plump and his eyes sharp and brown coloured. His lip was swollen along with his eye.

"Don't tell me you killed Igor." He spat out, anger hinted at his words.

I took a chair from the side of the room and placed it in front of him and sat. His back fell against the wall, his power failing to keep him steady.