Closing the door of the room behind me, leaving the body of the lady dead on the couch. I released my energy on the floor, igniting every corner, desk, and appliance on fire.
I could hear the crackling of the flames as they consumed everything in their path. It was a beautiful sight, the orange glow of the fire dancing across the room, casting shadows on the walls.
Locking the gun, I tucked it back inside my pants and took a long drag of the cigar, enjoying the taste of the smoke in my mouth.
Walking down to the basement, I knew what I had to do. I had to erase any evidence of my presence here. I punched the alarm box, watching as the lights flickered and went out. I deleted the footage of the last hour, erasing any trace of me being here.
With a flick of my wrist, I turned off the cameras, leaving the room in complete darkness.
As I made my way back to the car, I could feel the heat of the fire on my back. I approached the gate and quickly knocked the guard unconscious with a swift punch to the head.
I got into my car, revved the engine, and peeled out of the parking lot, leaving the burning building and the guard behind me. The adrenaline was pumping through my veins as I drove.
I couldn't help but let out a maniacal laugh.
Interrupting my amazing moment, was the phone call I received, I picked up the phone and checked the caller and found out it was from Olivia.
"What do you want?" I answered.
"Where are you?" she asked.
"Why do you need to know?" I replied.
"I'm supposed to keep an eye on you. I need to complete my job," she said.
"I'm going to a bar. I haven't decided which one yet," I told her.
"Fine," she said and hung up.
"Ugh, kids these," I grumbled, shoving the phone back in my pocket and checking my maps app for a decent bar.
And the one I chose was 9th Heaven, the most luxurious and fancy bar in the country.
But when I reached there I saw a line of people entering and I was definitely not going to stand amongst them.
I picked up my phone and dialled the first number on my favourite list.
"Hello?", Voice of a boy resounded from the other side of the speaker.
"Hello Cedric", I said.
"*Crash*", But as soon as he heard my voice, I heard a loud crash on the other end.
"You broke something?", I asked.
"N-no, sir, just the teacup, fell from my hands", he said.
"Oh well, forget it, do me a favour, get me a VIP pass for 9th Heaven", I said.
"What? Sir, you're at the bar? You have to be aware, a bar is a place where mantles usually disguise themselves", he said.
"How so?", I asked.
"Sir, for instance, when you'll enter the bar, you'll face a luxurious and entertaining atmosphere, but on the other side where most people indulge in activities such as intense drugs and sexual acts, they are barely conscious, and mantles can basically act like one of them", he said.
"Thanks for the heads-up, now the pass?", I asked.
"Issued, just show your phone at the entry, every phone of the weaver is a VVIP pass in itself for places like 9th Heaven."
"Perfect",
I pulled up to the main entrance, handed my keys to the parking attendant, and walked towards the bald bouncer dressed in black and white.
I flashed my phone, and the bouncer nodded, opening the gate for me. As I passed through, I couldn't resist the urge to look back and give a smug grin to the line of peasants waiting outside.
As I stepped inside the bar, the music thumped through my body like a heartbeat. The dimly lit room was alive with activity, and the air was thick with the smell of sweat, alcohol, and perfume.
The walls were adorned with flashy neon signs and framed pictures of famous musicians, adding to the eclectic vibe of the place.
The furniture was plush, with leather couches and armchairs arranged in intimate clusters around low tables.
The lighting was a mix of dimmed chandeliers and colourful LED lights that illuminated the walls and floor.
People of all kinds were packed into the bar, with some lounging on couches and others standing by the bar, sipping on their drinks.
Some were dressed to the nines, with expensive suits and cocktail dresses, while others were more casual in jeans and t-shirts.
And then there were the strippers. They strutted around the room in high heels and scantily clad outfits, their bodies glistening with sweat under the flickering lights.
They gyrated on poles and danced seductively for the patrons, who eagerly tossed bills onto the stage.
Ignoring the noisy crowd, I sauntered towards the stunning bartender, her sultry gaze piercing through me.
She exuded an air of aloofness that made my heart race even faster. Most of the patrons here were either drooling over the strippers or trying to make a pass at her, but I was determined to catch her attention.
I took a seat at the bar, right in front of her, and locked eyes with her for a few tantalizing seconds.
She flipped the towel on her desk, wiping her hands clean, and leaned forward, placing her hands on the bar top.
"Never seen you before, handsome. What can I get for you?" she asked, her voice dripping with seduction.
I couldn't help but feel a shiver run down my spine at the sound of her sultry voice.
"I'd like a Manhattan," I said, trying to keep my composure.
She arched an eyebrow, a wicked grin playing on her lips.
"The Manhattan cocktail... said to have originated in the late 1800s or early 1900s in New York City," she purred, her eyes never leaving mine.
As she mixed the drink, she talked me through the recipe, her hands moving with grace and precision.
"The classic recipe calls for whiskey, sweet vermouth, and bitters, stirred with ice and strained into a cocktail glass," she said, her voice low and smooth.
"To be honest, this is my first time tasting it, and I'm pretty sure it will be good since you're the one making it," I stated.
She chuckled a throaty sound that made my knees weak.
"Cheesy," she said, her lips curling into a smirk.
As I looked around, I noticed a group of boys and girls at the table with bottles of alcohol. And amongst those people, I recognised two from River's files. I knew at this moment, this night was going to be memorable for them.