Charlotte "Think about red? See the blood."

Disasters begin in the dark nights. Starless, soulless, impenetrable nights. Such nights serve as an ominous background in folk tales or in the most perverted songs. I looked ahead, watching the city shimmer under the speed of the car. Tick. Tick. Tick. My legs shaked as I sat in the seat, as bloody images rush through my head with the destructive force of a hurricane. The playback happened in full, anxious motion. That soon I will step inside this club as a simple woman Charlotte but I will leave as Melissa. Insidious and ruthless.

Now there is no husband whom I trusted, even if only for a short time, no fire inside me, no soul, because 10 months ago it was torn out by the roots. Only the engine of the car, the road and my current partner who fears for my life.

But I no longer understood what it was like to be afraid for myself or my life. Because it happens to those who have something to lose. And what do I have to lose now? A friend with whom I can't communicate during a deal? Or a husband who has become my personal devil? Or my body, where every area is soaked in someone else's blood? I grinned to myself. No. I have nothing more to lose, but I won't die either. There is no one who could defeat me yet.

And yet I dare not blink. Not even once when I observe my surroundings. I did not blink even once. I simply was looking and looking, was feeling the life almost left me and then I screamed like a hunted mythical creature. From pain. From the loss of my former self. In that one fucking night.

But he didn't hear me. No one heard me. As if I was an empty space and a sound for everyone around me. After all, strong girls should be able to survive everything alone.

A sudden chill runs down my spine, and I pressed myself closer to the warm seat. But wasn't the cold that penetrates my bones. It was this evening. The realization of a little girl inside me who wants warmth. To be loved. A mother...a father and a loved one. I hate this little girl inside me who is more naive than any child.

The atmosphere was eerily reminiscent of that night when I was kidnapped and beaten and I was bleeding, feeling like I was going to die. But no. I survived to live and continue to remember. How bad I felt. That's why I will kill that bastard because of whom I was kidnapped.

When I first killed a man, I couldn't even imagine that everything would spin to the point where I would be the best. How I would be the best shooter. Done. How I would be able to handle a knife perfectly. Done. Bitten to manipulate? Easy peasy. Knowing anatomy so that I could torture but not kill? The devil laughs right in my face.

There were no stars then either, and like tonight, the moon shone brightly, like the glitter of pure silver on a clean canvas. But behind me there are already many corpses and experience. All people say that killing is bad. Cruel. But here is the problem. This is life, which is always connected with death. Villains are always in fairy tales and without them the heroes would not be noticed.

"We'll be there in 10 minutes." Dean said. "What exactly is your plan? I warn you, I don't know kung fu." "You don't have to." I patted him on the shoulder. "You'll just be my sweet, shy brother."

"What exactly are you going to do?" He persisted. "What a woman can do the best." I breathed. "Make a man lose his head." "So you're going to seduce him?" He muttered cheerfully. "Damn, I'd like to see Roman's face when you do it."

"He would have ruined everything." I muttered. "But yes, you're right. There are, of course, a couple more things in my plan, but I'm afraid you're not mentally ready to hear it out loud." "Then you better keep quiet." After a short phrase, Dean spoke. "Why... did you start killing?" "What?" His question puzzled me. "You were the boss's wife. So you decided to become... well, who you were.

I looked up. "Because I don't like easy ways. In the mafia world, there are thousands of men a head taller than me, even though I'm not that short for a woman. And everyone thinks that they rule everyone. But it wasn't until I first opened their eyes to the fact that a woman is not a weakness. But a person like everyone else. That's when I got a taste for it."

"That's...interesting." The car stopped right at the entrance to the club. A big, bright sign reading "Graves." Was shining right in my face. What a bastard. He even named the place after himself. He must have a small dick. "Here we go, my little hitman."

I silently pursed my lips and picked up my purse, noticing the gold from the ring that glittered in the light. It's stupid how quickly we can develop habits. Dean opened the door on my side and took his arm and walked to the entrance. "Ready?" he asked as I let go of his hand for a second to remove my unwanted wedding ring. "As always." I said confidently, throwing the gold into the trash can.

***

The noise penetrated my ears with such force that it took all my willpower not to run away as we entered this disgusting place. From the first second, I quickly caught the atmosphere of this place. Passion. Lust. Frivolity. And sex. And all this under strange loud music and neon red lights.

Walking to the bar, we had to make our way between numerous people who were dancing as if they were filmed in a porno. They were close to each other, without a drop of distance. They rubbed against each other and hugged, but with the music, this could theoretically be called a dance.

I leaned my elbows on the counter and pointed with my head to the corner where Dean would sit and wait for me to lead our client out. He just doesn't know why yet.

"What will you drink?" the bartender shouted when he saw me. I beckoned to his dress. We simultaneously leaned over the bar and I asked right next to his lips. "Better tell me where I can find Daniel Graves?" "But..."

"Please." I whispered softly, my index finger running across his cheekbone, making him swallow. "VIP, on the second floor." He exhaled. "Thank you, sweetie." I smiled sweetly. "But they still won't let you in if you're not on the list." "That's my problem now." I turned around and narrowed my eyes when I saw some man coming down the stairs. And here was the one thanks to whom I would be able to climb to the forbidden second floor.

The stranger came out into the street and I winked at Dean and followed him. The first thing I felt was fresh air after the terrible stuffiness that was suffocating me inside. The second was strong cigarette smoke around the corner. The stranger I needed seemed to be smoking because I didn't see anyone else and the only sound was a rough voice cursing in... Russian? How many of them are there in New York... God.

I took off my heels and quietly approached the corner, peeking out a little. Not a word could be understood, but I put my shoes back on and began to wait for the man to stop making fun of my headache. And then he finally ended the call and, leaning his back against the wall, began to finish smoking a cigarette, greedily drawing his dose of nicotine into his lungs, throwing his head back to the sky.

I started to approach him and my steps, thanks to my heels, attracted his attention. My right shoulder touching his, I leaned against the wall, crossing my palms and arms on my chest. "Would you like a cigarette?" I met his blue eyes. The sharp lines of his jaw softened and the blond simply nodded and pulled out a pack, opening it and handing it to me. "Thank you." I pulled one out and met his gaze again. "And you probably don't have a lighter either, right?" He grinned, already bringing the fire to the cigarette that was between my lips.

I sucked in the contents of the obsession and blew a stream of smoke straight into his face. "I only smoke when I go to places like this." I held out my hand. "Dixie." "Kirill." His rough hand touched mine and as he released it, his eyebrow rose in a silent question that he still managed to voice. "Then why are you here?"

"Because of my brother." The lie quickly flew off my tongue and thanks to another drag, it gave me time to continue the fictitious story. "He broke up with his girlfriend and wanted to come here. Didn't want to be alone." "But you're here." I shrugged. "He dumped me when he started flirting with some red-haired beauty." A laugh escaped my lips. "And now I'm alone."

"Want to spend time with me and the others as a VIP?" I stubbed out my cigarette against the wall and smiled triumphantly. "Really?" "Beautiful girls like you can't be alone, can they?" He repeated my movement and headed back to the club. Kirill thinks I'll follow him because I'm dying to be in the company of rich, handsome men. I bit my lips and took a step, turning around. "Right, but I hope after this night your friend will tell you that the most beautiful are the most dangerous." I whispered into the void.

***

I have always been amazed at the thinking of rich people. Money may have power in this world and on this earth, but... What if these people themselves are weak. I sat quietly on the couch for an hour and waited for the one I came for to notice me. New faces are always noticed, especially those as attractive as mine.

But with every second I felt the vileness of these people, even though I am the killer. Rich women act as if everyone else is dust in their heels. But men thought that every pussy would be theirs. And maybe I also thought that they were all dust and every penis could be mine, but there is a difference. I thought so because I have such a worldview about myself and others. And they just have dollar signs in their eyes that they think everyone should see.

"Can I join you?" A deep voice came from the side as someone sat down next to me. Daniel. Finally. "Of course." I looked at him. "Are you bored?" "A little. Even though it's my club." He laughed casually, as if that should impress me. "Wow...Are you Daniel Graves?" I widened my eyes in mock surprise. "I'm Dixie. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"A little nice?" My body tensed as his hand touched my blue just a little lower than would be acceptable. Ah, so it's even easier if he thinks I'm like a fan of his.

"Very nice." I purred, snuggling up to him. "If it's boring here, maybe we should leave?" A lustful glint came into his eyes and he grabbed my arm, lifting me off the couch. What an idiot. Daniel put his arm around me and slapped my ass.

"I love such nimble ones." Oh, and I will love that very extra minute of your torture that I only mentally added for touching me. "I'm glad you like me." I smiled crookedly, trying not to fall on the stairs from how fast he was dragging me down. Dean and I met eyes when we were one step down and I nodded.

Daniel pushed the door open and pulled me out into even more welcome air than an hour ago. My body practically flew as he pulled me painfully toward him and pressed me against Dean's car. Comfortable. Metal was hammering through my back. "Where are we going, Baby?" His nasty hands fell on my waist.

That's it. He's had enough of me. I hit him with my elbow in the carotid artery with all my might and he didn't even have time to scream before he fell like a sack of potatoes at my feet. "To your funeral." I looked down. "Baby."

"The first one is ready." I declared to Dean, who had just now managed to leave. There are still four left and my revenge will be accomplished. Or I will burn this world.