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It was supposed to be a wonderful night

She remembered vividly that she slept on Hardy, but now he was over her, covered in blood!

Rachael with widened eyes tried to recall what exactly happened. The knife in her hand fell off when she lifted it. A gasp escaped from her lips. Did she do this? The question lingered but wasn't sure of the answer. Her heartbeat increased rapidly as she tipped him over with all her might.

After gathering enough courage, she accessed him. He was covered in blood with two stab wounds on his chest. His olive skin had turned pale and his lips slightly parted. With shaky hands, Rachael shook him but didn't get a response. A whimper of fear escaped from her mouth as she placed her index finger underneath his nose to confirm if he was dead. He wasn't breathing!

This was hard to believe. Why couldn't she remember anything? She didn't recall killing him, but the murder weapon was in her hands. Her eyes darted around the hotel room. It looked the same. The sun crept through the tiny creek of the curtain, reflecting on Hardy's pale face. Out of remorse, she rushed to shut it.

Why did she feel guilty? Killing somebody was the last thing she was competent of doing. Even with that consolation, it didn't take the guilt away.

While she still tried to calm herself, the thought of him being one of the most influential men in Chicago came to her mind. Her fear doubled. Plus, his brother was a ruthless man who would bring her down with or without the police.

The thought to run occurred to her. She embraced it. If she could successfully get out of the hotel, the next step was to leave the state, change her identity and probably run for the rest of her life

Rachael settled for this notion and abruptly jumped off the bed. Her body had a lot of his blood. She searched her purse for her phone to check the time. It was '8:25 am' She had just about thirty-five minutes before the janitor arrived to clean the room.

She scrambled to the bathroom to wash the blood off. No matter how hard she tried to take it off, all availed to nothing. The blood had already dried off. Out of frustration, she turned on the shower to take a quick one. The moment the cold water grazed her skin, she shuddered. It was almost as if reality hit her too. She shook, sobbing silently. The water took every atom of tears from her eyes but didn't take the pain away.

Rachael wasted not a bit of time. She slipped on her dress immediately she got out of the shower. Was about to leave after she grabbed her car keys from the stand, but stopped when a thought crossed her mind. If her DNA was found on the murder weapon it will make it easier for her to be caught. No, she couldn't risk that.

After wrapping the knife with an old newspaper she found lying inside the closet, she parked the knife in her bag. Her heart skipped a few beats when she glanced at Hardy. His lifeless hand dangled outside the bed. How much she wished he would wake up and tell her this was an April fool's prank even though it wasn't April.

It was a miracle how she was able to get past the receptionist without many questions. Rachael was grateful for the numerous distractions she had which enabled her to slip off.

Even though she was out of there, the image of Hardy and his blood couldn't evacuate her mind. She couldn't even drive properly. Occasionally, she tried to bring her breathing to a normal range, but it wasn't working. How could it be when she was confronted with the reality of her being a murderer?

She grabbed her phone that lay on the other seat to dial Andrew's number. The only person she could trust at this point. He was the only friend she could confide in.

"Andrew" she called out. Her voice stunned her. It was shaky and raspier. Even Gary noticed.

"Are you okay?"

"Are you home?" a whimper escaped from her lips as she said those words. She couldn't even control the tears that flowed down her cheek. All she could do was let herself be buried in profound misery and bleakness.

"Yes, but are...." He tried saying, but the call was ended. Rachael couldn't do this. Her shaky hands weren't even able to grasp a phone. If this was hard for her, how the hell was she going to defend herself if she gets into police custody?

                 *************

The view of Chicago from Xavier's office window always brought a certain thrill to him. He watched as cars drove by, and passers-by walked with a lot of urgencies.

Periodically, he took a sip from the glass of drink wrapped inside his hand. All this was done to ease his tensed self. It always worked, but this time it didn't.

A knock came through the door. It snapped him from his thought as he muttered a shallow response. Just as he had expected, Ralph came through the door. His dark eyes held a grin, walking with confidence as he took each stride. Xavier hated it.

"Fredrick said you needed to see me" He sat on a seat opposite Xavier's table. At this point, Xavier was stunned at his aplomb.

"I did" Xavier nodded as he left the window side and sauntered over to where Gary was. He sat on the table, settling the glass in his hand, down on it. Xavier was about to say the main reason he called him but stopped because the look of excitement on Ralph's face distracted him. "Does your excitement have anything to do with the importation?"

"Oh" Ralph straightened his face and sat upright. "Partly"

"The good arrived?"

"Yes they have, and they are been moved to the warehouse as we speak"

"And you checked every one of them?"

"I did sir"

Xavier nodded, "make sure you don't get in trouble with the police during the transportation. What happened the last time shouldn't repeat itself. Where is Hardy?" he pinched the bridge of his nose after giving off his mild warning.

"He was earlier in Weston club. I haven't seen him since then".

"His phone isn't going through. Find him and tell him to get more serious with this" after that was said, Xavier got up from his seat and walked over to the window side once more. "That's all"

Ralph sauntered towards the door after getting up. The sound of the door shutting implied he was gone. Xavier went back to his desk and got a gun from his locker. Staring at it, a sigh escaped from his lips. He grabbed his phone and dialed a number, placing it on his ear while he waited for an answer

"The moment she sets her foot down from the car, bring her to me," he said coldly then ended the call.

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