(Trigger warning, mentions of SA and disturbing dialogue ahead)
My jaw was buried within the crust of the earth as I stared wide eyed at Delilah, who gulped back the whiskey in her glass and set it down with the smooth ease of a ruthless woman who's not even the least bit fazed about holding a gun.
I was going to throw up. My stomach was in knots while my pan fried brain tried to catch up with everything that's just happened.
Katarina groped me. She— holy shit, she killed someone.
"Andreya." Bersan didn't look worried about Delilah holding up a gun at him. He simply looked her up and down, puffed on his cigar, and grinned. "You have grown."
"Do you like what you see?" Her blonde hair fell to the side. At that moment a few more large men walked into the room, one so pale he reminds me of a spectre and I faintly recognise him as Russian. He takes in Delilah with hard eyes, jaw setting in discontent at the sight of her.
