I have to find out.
"And we have a winner," Ethan snickered as he inspected the bodies. "Give us a hand, why don't you? Move your lazy asses," he barked out with a laugh. We rolled our eyes at him and took our place on some crates at the corner of the room. "Just because you killed a few people, you guys think that you are untouchable," he snorted and then sorted through the identification of the pansies Darcy had hired to stop us.
"What do you think you are doing?" I asked him.
He gave me a passing glance before pocketing the IDs. "You should always keep spare identification. Didn't you know, kitten?" I sneered at him in true cat fashion, and he raised his brows at me in amusement.
"You don't get to call me that, you big oaf," I said, jocundly. "You will face copyright issues if you repeat said indiscretion, are we clear?" I warned him playfully. He nodded emphatically, before letting out a loud laugh and then moving up the stairs.
"You alright?" Michael said suddenly. I looked at him incredulously, but I could only see the worry in his eyes.
"If you ask that question one more time, I promise to break your bones."
"Stop threatening my life, woman. It will get you nowhere," he sighed. "I'm just worried. Today was tough. We got carried away." He looked away for a few moments before he glared at me. "It's all your fault."
"The dud? The sneaky bastard who tried to kill me, or the fact that Scott got his hands on your shipments and you let him take it?" I was trying to suppress the smile that was threatening to break out. I was sure that he wouldn't appreciate it. And it was fun pulling his leg. It was familiar; nothing like the sudden change in attitude that he had gone through.
"Mia," he growled. "You know what I mean."
"No, I don't." We stared at each other for the longest time. The others passed by us, pulling people up from their positions and repositioning them at the centre of the room. "What are they doing?" I asked him.
"Making a statement." He stared ahead, now. "One needs to put fear in the hearts of their opponents, and what better way than to adorn the battleground with the corpses of people the opponent trusted to protect them?"
"One does fear for their existence when they see every pillar they build crumbling to the ground in the blink of an eye. I can imagine it would be horrifying when someone finds the dead here."
"Let's get up and help them. We have a lot of work to get done." We left our places and scattered to different floors and got to work. I was stationed with Ethan, who smugly sauntered around the room and then dragging the bodies to the centre of the room.
"So, you seem thoroughly worked up," he said suddenly after we had stowed away almost half of the bodies.
"I don't know what you mean," I played the coy mistress. How apt.
He let out a snort and then went back to putting the corpses in the wanted formation.
"Don't mix pleasure with business, Mia. It's a dangerous thing. Once your rationality becomes blurry, you don't understand what is right and what is wrong. You lose suspicion. You become weak." He huffed as he wiped the sweat off his brows. "You don't have the time to be weak in this world. You die if you are weak, even if it is for just a moment."
"What brought on this lecture, may I ask?" I was disturbed by how affected he sounded.
"I am happy to see you with Boss, truly. I mean, it's high time that he found someone he could confide in, but if you lose yourself in being only his confidant, you will suffer," he gave me a meaningful look.
"You can rest assured that my life does not revolve around the obnoxious man. I know that he is a vice of mine, but I won't make the mistake of forgetting who I am to mould into the life he leads. Our paths are not the same, Ethan," I admitted in a hushed tone.
"So you know that this will lead to doom?"
"Ethan... Why would I ponder on something that will probably never happen? We will never be together. We are incompatible. He is incorrigible and I hate him." He snickered at that. "Laugh all you want, but you will see."
"Trust in yourself and your ability as a killer, girl. If anything can attract Anthony, it is a woman who can carry herself like he carries the gun. He searches for power in a woman, and I think he's found his match."
"Shut up and do your work, you big ball of mush," I elbowed him. "Who knew that you of all people could be such a big romantic?"
"There is nothing romantic about attraction. It's carnal and inflammable, and you know it. It burns you alive."
"And now you are a poet," I chuckled.
"Pull up that last dude, will you? Let's get this over with," he sighed and I nodded.
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