95: Nothing but a monster

"And you're damn well aware that nobody in my organization had anything to do with that kid's death. It's not our style," he retorted, his voice filled with defiance. He hesitated, eyeing my open jacket with a glare. "As if you have a style. Christ. Did you come here to kill me? That's ballsy, even for a monster like you."

I took a deep breath, considering my response carefully. "I suggest you allow me inside, David, unless you want your neighbors to overhear our conversation. Especially since I suspect you're a corrupt agent," I replied, a hint of amusement lacing my words. When he hesitated, I chuckled softly.

"Fuck you. I'm not corrupt," he shot back.

"Not what I've heard. And if I wanted you dead, Agent Fiennes, your body would already be in the morgue," I countered, my tone dripping with a cold and calculated confidence.

Hissing, he reluctantly opened the door wider, granting me entry into his humble abode. His house was far from extravagant; the sparse furniture appeared worn