“Click Click Boom” – Saliva

Click. Click. Click. Guns cock all around me, and the room brims with a crackling tension. Marat angles the gun, and I hold up my hand on a smile. "Wait!" I say. Marat's eyes widen, the tremor in his hand grows more violent. Sweat trickles down his temples. "Pull the trigger Marat. Go ahead," I dare before I take a long drag from my cigar.

"Ronan," Camilla says with a hiss.

"Yes, Krasivaya?" I direct my attention at her, my hand still raised at my guards.

"Kill him," she says through clenched teeth. Her eyes flick nervously to Marat.

"I don't get my hands dirty." I shrug. "It's a rule I strictly abide by."

She drags her hand through her hair. "Not the time." Oh, she’s worried…interesting.

There's the distinct click of the hammer releasing, and I turn back to Marat with a displeased frown. The gun was empty. It was all just a game for my entertainment, a little psychological torture if you will. Of course, Igor was going to shoot them both, but now...

"Do you really think I would hand you a loaded gun?" I ask Marat. Adrenaline-laced blood pulses through my jugular. Red distorts my vision. I can handle many things, but this—I cannot. How dare such a man point a gun at me when I am granting him a mercy? Slowly, I push up from my chair and step toward Marat, pacing in front of him. The feral beast inside me begs to slice his throat. It screams for bloodshed and violence. But I will not give into that craving because I would like it too much. This is business, and yet...I glance over my shoulder at Camilla, and curiosity dances around my screaming demons. She's so unhinged. So uncontrolled. I would never in my wildest dreams predict what this little hellhound would do, so maybe I should unleash her.

"Kill them," I say, stubbing my cigar out on Marat's cheek, a pained hiss leaving his lips. "Make it savage, Krasivaya."

I cross the room and take a seat. Camilla's heels click over the concrete floor, and she stops in front of Marat. My gaze drifts over her curves as I wait, as I think of all the possibilities.

"I'll need a few things from the bar," She turns to face me, and I nod. "Igor,” she says on her way out of the room, “be a doll and make sure Marat gets a good show, would you?"

Igor grabs Marat and forces him to his knees in front of his son. The room is silent apart from Victor's muffled sobs. Seconds later, Camilla steps through the doorway carrying a kerosene candle from the bar and a dirty dish towel. Her hips sway with each step as she crosses the room. My chest tightens with anticipation when she stops in front of me. Her eyes gleam, and she slowly leans over, placing one hand on my thigh as the other trails the lapel of my coat. Smirking, she grabs the lighter from my breast pocket, flips the lid, and flicks the flint. The flame dances between us, and I catch a spark of madness in her exotic eyes. She's like an artist staring at a blank canvas while envisioning all the beautiful possibilities. With a flick of her wrist, she snaps the lighter closed, snuffing out the flame before turning away.

Victor whimpers when Camilla steps in front of him. She unscrews the top of the candle before dumping the oil onto one end of the towel. How promising!

"I do love fire," she says, lifting the rag to Victor's face. He clamps his mouth shut and she circles behind him, dragging the towel over his cheek. "The power, the way it decimates and cleanses everything it touches." She kicks the back of his legs, and he drops to his knees in front of Marat with a grunt. "It's almost spiritual," she says and grabs Victor's hair, yanking his head back and pinching his nose.

He thrashes about as she hovers over him with a sadistic smile. Finally, he gasps for breath and Camilla crams the towel inside his mouth. He grunts and groans, fighting against her as she forces it deeper. She flips the lighter open with a click, the flame sparking to life over the end of the cloth. His eyes widen and he flops onto his back, flailing wildly as the small blue flame creeps over the material. I anxiously watch, waiting for the fire to meet the kerosene, and suddenly a bright red flame flashes to life. Camilla continues to hold his nose, forcing him to inhale the flames licking around his face. Fascination swims in her eyes for a moment, and when she seems bored with it all, she releases him.

She's so ruthless. So utterly savage that my heart leaps in my chest.

A morbid symphony fills the room as Marat's sobs mix with Victor's muffled screams. Camilla turns her attention to Marat, stroking her finger over his cheek. "Shhh," she says, as she circles behind him. Cupping his jaw, she slides her hand around the back of his head before violently snapping his neck to the side. And my, the crack that echoes around the room... Marat's body topples to the floor with a thud, and then she walks away with a smile.

Depravity swirls around her like an angry storm. She is magnificent.

She flippantly waves her hand in Victor's direction. "That one will take a while to die. Might want to shoot him if you have somewhere to be."

I fight to contain myself as I turn to the group of men on the side of the room. "Gentlemen, just a reminder as to why you should not rebel against me. The consequences are dire." With a clap of my hand, I push up from my chair. "Well, that's enough excitement for one night. Igor, shoot him."

There's the quick bang of gunfire, and then I leave the building with Camilla at my side.