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A couple sat on the two-seater maroon couch, the female's legs placed on her partner's lap. The strappy see-through dress she wore was revealing all of her body, leaving Ilay asking why she couldn't just stay naked. There was no difference really.
His eyes didn't hover longer than meant to. Her lover was the real reason he had come all this way.
"I'm sure I didn't come to stare at you grope your lover."

The brunette male chuckled halting his hand on the woman's thigh. "You've grown stiff. Has that wife of yours tamed you so? What a disappointment."

Ilay relaxed back on the single seat he occupied before checking his wristwatch. "Where is it?" he asked, his expression suddenly taking on a serious veil that was half a frown. "I'm sure after you had it stolen, you still couldn't unlock it, Greg."

"Hahaha! I didn't steal it to use it. But that was the only way I could have your attention."

"You have it now. Speak!"

Ilay beckoned Mike to him, and his subordinate obeyed, fishing out a small black box that held a red-black cigar and a lighter. He lit it before handing it to Ilay, every movement bleeding respect.
"You might not know it, but after the death of the old man, the council is a mess. That old fucker didn't choose an heir. He-"

"How would I not know it? I know where every legitimate and illegitimate child of his is in the world. You're feeling threatened, afraid that what you've worked for for so long will be snatched by some little kid from nowhere. And now you're going to ask for my support in exchange for what is mine. Ha!" Ilay huffed bringing the cigar to his lips.

After letting the smoke circulate in his lungs, he blew it in their direction smirking.
"You overestimated yourself, Greg. I came here to get what is mine, not to talk business. If you genuinely wanted my support, you should have not touched what is mine."

Greg's brows furrowed hearing Ilay's cold words that had a threat beneath their weight. He whipped his eyes around even though he was certain that his men were right behind him.

"I 'hate' it when people just take what is mine. Or summon me to useless meetings and speak useless things to me. I expected a proper apology, compensation, and an oath to never do something so silly."

"Wha-wha... I've already told you I didn't plan on using the-"

"It doesn't matter what you thought, Greg," Ilay said leaning forward, his lit cigar burning brightly between his fingers. "You've already made too many mistakes. What would you do to someone who doesn't take you seriously at all? Forgive them? Or...punish them?"

Greg could be seen swallowing with some difficulty. The hand on his lover's thigh tightened, his knuckles growing paler.

"Think very hard about your answer, Greg. Because the fate of everyone in this room depends on it."

Ilay's threatening words darkened his frown, failing to understand why he sounded so confident even though he only had one man to protect him.
As the seconds ticked away, Ilay continued smoking, spreading it out in the room.
When it struck sixty seconds, one of Greg's bodyguards began wobbling before thudding hard on the cold floor.
His colleagues didn't think much of it, they only dragged him on the floor to rest him against the wall while apologizing to Greg.

"Tic...tok...tic...to-"
Another one collapsed, startling Greg. He jumped to his feet and glanced at his men.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you trying to get your-" A blast of dizziness struck him, making him fall back on the couch ass first. "What is...my head fee..."

Ilay stood up chuckling. "Where is it, Greg? You have less than five minutes to make that call. You 'all'-" his eyes grazed at the group behind Greg,"-have minutes to the end of your lives."

Hearing this, they hurried to draw out their weapons but their hands were sluggish. "Those two are weak," he mocked gazing at the two men who had already...died.

"Killing me won't save any of you. But, if your boss here does as he's told, you might just live."

"You're lying," Greg denied Ilay's statement as if he knew better. How have you done this without..." His eyes fell on the cigar Ilay was happily smoking. "Is that...!"

Ilay grinned walking closer. He placed a hand on Greg's shoulder. "Do you want to try it? It's really not that ba-" Greg couched turning away, only to see his lover fighting to stay conscious. "The deaths of your men will be on you, Greg. So why don't you make the call and have what's mine, brought to me? That way, you can save their lives or have them die for nothing."

"You...how can you do this?"

"You failed to answer, so I made the decision myself. I don't know if you were stupid to steal from me or if someone else convinced you to do it."
He handed the cigar to Mike. "I had my doubts but I thought, if it was you, then you'd have the means to defeat me. But seeing how little you think of me, I don't think your brain is in the right place.
"How can you ask me to meet you and only bring in a mere twenty guards? Pathetic."

Greg picked up his phone to make the phone call that would save his life. His hand was getting weaker and weaker while his brain regretted not listening when he was told not to touch Ilay's things. He argued that they had been friends back in high school and that Ilay would not harm him.
But how could he be spared if the daughter of the woman who raised Ilay was already rotting somewhere in the ocean?

There was no forgiveness in Ilay's dictionary once you betrayed him.
The little mercy he had shown Aya was purely to entertain his wife who would feel better if she took out her anger on her sister.

Ilay lit a second cigar and began smoking while awaiting his property to be delivered.
Seeing the cigar, Greg smiled falling in and out of consciousness. He thought that it would be the antidote, unbeknownst to him, that Ilay had no plans of leaving him alive.

There minutes later, a knock came. Ilay gestured to Mike to open the door while he leisurely smoked by the glass wall overlooking the city.
"I'll be late," he sighed, not paying attention to what was going on behind him.

A gunshot exploded in the silence of the room, followed by slight commotion, and then three different gunshots. None of which were interesting enough to make Ilay turn around. If whoever had been called in could kill both Mike and himself, then he'd have no regrets. He expected his death any second of his life. When or how it'd arrive was a mystery he hoped to realize before he breathed his last.

"Boss?" Mike called with a slight grunt.

Ilay finally turned, only to see Mike with a gunshot wound in his abdomen and the other guy on the floor, staining it with his blood puddle.
Ilay walked over to Greg whose eyes were fluttering slightly, fighting against fate not to die. "You tricked me?" He chuckled. "I guess I'll have to turn the whole organization upside down bit by bit."

"Fu..ck y...you," Greg cursed in his last breath. His eyes remained opened slightly, his life...gone.