"I have to get back at them!" I pulled my hand out of my boxing glove and threw them to the ground. Frade was sitting next to me, his forehead dripping with sweat.
After disposing of the body, he took me back to the villa. He thought that the anger in me had only temporarily subsided. If I want to really quell this murderous urge that can erupt at any time, I have to exercise to burn off my energy.
So Frade took me to his private boxing room. He will be my coach this time. It was not until the moonlight fell on the window and formed a thin golden veil that I felt drained. The killing desire of hatred finally retreated to some dark corner of the heart.
"Who?" Frade goes to the fridge and takes out two bottles of mineral water. He hands me one.
“My father, and the general!” Maybe I shouldn't have called him my father.
"We need a new plan," Frade said. "Your father is a business celebrity, and his death will draw the attention of the police if we don't handle it well enough."
