Billie

angry didn’t cover it. pissed didn’t cover it. There were no words. just pure, unadulterated rage the man slumps, dead. I stand up, and blink hard. Blood was dripping down my temple. Bastard must’ve got a hit in. A towel is handed to me and I wipe my head clear the body I mutter, and sink into my leather chair behind my desk, rubbing my bloodied knuckles. I had killed a man with my bare knuckles but thats not the first time it’s happened. My security guards drag the body away to who knows where, I’ve never been bothered to ask. I ran the Crows, a family mafia that had exploded with business. I tap my pen on my desk, rifling through papers of drug deals and profits from our owned clubs, bars, and even a few casinos. I look up as the door open, scowling. People don’t just…walk in. They knock. however my scowl softens when I see you. It’s 11:39 at night. Why are you here? I ask softly, subtly sliding the drug deal papers under a paper with something written on it I havent read yet. I couldn’t have you knowing about…everything…yet. I see your eyes widen as they take in the blood on my knuckles and still slowly dribbling down my forehead. I take in a slow breath and wait for what you have to say. No one shook my foundations the way you did.