How is that possible? This is not real. It can't be real. It can't be real. He's dead. I saw how he died.

He is dead.

But why is exactly the man I actually saw dying a while ago smiling at me? Am I hallucinating? Surely I shouldn't have missed out on a shower and food. I guess so, because my mind seems to be playing a very nasty game with me.

I clench my teeth as Leroy gives me an indefinable look from the side. Is he asking me to greet the - actually - dead Charles? But that can't be it, because Charles and his companion hardly pay any attention to me.

When Leroy gently taps my hand with his fingertips, I realise that he is looking at me like that because I am digging my nails into his hand.

Dismayed, I pull my hand away from him as a little bit of blood flows from the wound. It's just a little scratch, but sometimes the little things hurt more than the big ones.

"Let's sit down, Mr Richards," I hear his pleasant baritone. Charles turns his head away from his companion with a smile and nods to Leroy.

He gently grabs my wrist and pulls me behind him, because my legs are frozen, but he neither hisses at me nor crushes my arm. We arrive at a high table and immediately a waiter appears next to the table. He looks at us expectantly. Didn't Leroy just say we should sit down?

But now we are standing and I can't guarantee that my legs will hold me for much longer. Especially not when I have this dead body in my mind! But even while I let my gaze wander, I have to realise that there are only high tables here - without chairs.

What a fucking shit!

"Champagne?" Asks the waiter as no one pays any attention to him.

"Of course," Charles exclaims delightedly and claps his hands with a grin. Deep lines form the old man's face, but especially around his mouth. I estimate him to be about seventy years old, but even if he were a little younger, I still wonder why someone like him doesn't enjoy retirement at his age, but likes to fool strangers into thinking that he is dead. What the hell is he doing?

"White wine for me, please," I hear the woman say.

"And what would you like?" The waiter now turns to me as soon as he has taken down the order. Just as I'm about to ask if there's also gin and tonic, a familiar voice can be heard.

"A grape juice for her," Leroy answers in my place, before turning his attention back to Charles. I take a shaky breath while the waiter squints uncertainly at Leroy.

"The strongest you have please," I interject, whereupon the waiter looks at Leroy again. Unbelievable, I think to myself as he still doesn't respond. I look at Leroy. He gives the waiter a sharp look before looking away again.

And just then, the waiter hisses off.

"Who do you think you are?!" I hiss at him quietly. Furious that he's seriously treating me like a little kid here after all, I snort.

Leroy licks his bottom lip, pulls it between his teeth seconds later and then looks down at me from half-closed lids. His warm breath brushes my cleavage, that's how close he is to me. His gaze is indefinable.

"I guess the question is, what makes you little sheep think you want to order something like that? I told you to keep it down, didn't I? The opposite happens with strong alcoholic drinks. We both know that your little brain, which is most likely made of candyfloss, can never digest that." Leroy raises an eyebrow and gives me a meaningful look, while I can only clench my teeth in aggrievement.

Oh, how I would love to punch him in the face again, right now. But instead I just shake my head at his behaviour and turn my gaze away. In return, I feel his on my skin for a long time, which makes me want to curse as my body acknowledges this with a shameful blush. I always hated those red spots crawling up my neck whenever something made me uncomfortable.

I take a deep breath and focus on the hall so I can ignore his gaze. My gaze falls instead on a man hiding in the shadows. He has a woman chained to the wall with his arms, who returns his gaze passionately. I look away as they kiss.

I really don't want to end up being a stalker.

"Mr Kingston," someone suddenly calls and joins us at the table. A young man approaches us with a broad smile.

Leroy is frozen for a moment before he starts to smile just as broadly, walks up to the guy with the dark hair and pulls him into a hug with a firm handshake. My eyes fall on him.

Although it's the first time I've seen Leroy smile like that and it's already knocking my socks off, I have to admit that this other man's smile would surely win a contest against Cupid's arrows, he looks so dreamy with it.

"Shit, I knew I'd see you here," the guy laughs and I could swear his eyes start to sparkle. Is this perhaps his brother? A close relative?

"Benjamin Harper. If I'm not mistaken!", Charles suddenly laughs, walks up to him and shakes his hand in greeting.

And my blood freezes in my veins at the sight of Charles' hands.

There is no finger. He is missing the index finger on his right hand!

I try to remember how he came to me back then. I know for a fact that he was missing a finger and some of his hair was pulled out. This Charles is also missing a finger. And now I'm sure, because yes, I thought that was Charles Richards, but I wasn't sure. But now I am absolutely sure!

This is the Charles Richards who was standing on my doorstep a few weeks ago covered in blood. And I can't stop feeling like I'm only with this gang leader because of him. And as if he sensed me looking at him, the old man turns his head in my direction for the first time that evening. He looks at me seriously, whereupon I raise my eyebrows in pique. Slowly and in silence I walk towards him.

"I knew it was you, Charles. What is the meaning of all this? Were you faking your death?" I hiss softly at him. Leroy is talking to Benjamin, while Charles' companion doesn't even look over here. Instead, she looks around the room.

"I had to find a way to get my daughter out of the clutches of those barbarians. I'm sorry I dragged you into this, Rina, but I had a score to settle with your father that he seemed to have forgotten. He can't help it, after all it was a very long time ago, so I'm helping him remember a little. But I didn't fake anything, my injuries were real," he replies in a low tone.

Speechless, I look at him. I didn't even expect him to answer me, but I expected this even less.

So it really is his fault that I'm here.

How can someone be so cunning?

"How could you do this to me? The Mafia is not to be trifled with, Charles," I hiss reproachfully as I try to swallow the lump in my throat. It gets so tight in my chest that I feel like I'm breathing through a straw as I realise the gravity of the situation. My father was supposed to have done what please?

"I've thought it all through, Rina. You're not going to die or you would have by now. I need you to find my daughter and then you'll both get out of there."

"But I don't know where your fucking daughter is," I hiss indignantly, noticing how my lower lip starts to tremble. God, why do I always have to start crying in the most inappropriate places?

Taking a deep breath, I close my eyes to calm myself down, because all it takes is a few tears in my eyes and my face is already red as a tomato. So how do I explain this to Leroy?

"You need to cause more trouble, then they'll take you to the boss. To the gang leader, you understand? And that's where she'll be," Charles replies excitedly, looking at me with a pleading look. I hold my breath. He doesn't know anything. He doesn't know that Leroy is the boss of the mafia.

"Do you know... who the gang leader is?" I carefully ask.

"Of course not! No one knows his real identity," he replies angrily. My thoughts are racing. Should I tell him? Will he then help me get away from Leroy? Or should I keep it to myself? I don't want to complicate my situation. What should I do?

But before I can say anything else, the deep bass of his voice can be heard.

"This is Katrina," he says. I get goosebumps when I hear him say my name. I take one last look at Charles and then turn to Leroy, who is just pointing at me. This Benjamin comes up to me smiling and holds out his hand in greeting. I wrestle a half-friendly smile out of myself and gently shake his hand.

"And who is she?" He inquires, without taking his eyes off me. His dark eyes scan me curiously.

"My fiancée."

And once again I make a complete fool of myself, choking on my own spit and starting to cough wildly.

But no one seems to pay any attention to me, because they all look in surprise at Leroy, while he only looks at me. I raise my eyebrows in irritation and shake my head questioningly. Why doesn't he say it was just a joke?

"Oh wow, I knew we hadn't seen each other for a long time, but I wouldn't have thought you'd want to get married right then," Benjamin replies, slapping him on the shoulder with a laugh.

"Congratulations," Charles shouts, and his companion grins up to both ears. And Charles seems genuinely pleased, which makes me angrier.

"Thank you," Leroy replies politely, lifting a corner of his lips. His look reflects pure evil, but before I can even say anything else, more people in perfect suits and dresses run up to us to greet Leroy before they also start chatting.

While I continue to look at the floor, frozen, and process what this devil has just said.

☼ ❅

Our dear Leroy and the devil...

Where is my ring, dude?

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