Mister Smith, who saw everything that happened in the parking lot, was shaking in his boots. He didn't understand why Nicolai was here to see him, but he was aware of one thing —— that nothing good was going to come out of this meeting.
He peeked at the man who was sitting in the chair right in front of him, on the other side of the table, before dropping his gaze when Nicolai raised his head and caught Mister Smith's gaze. Those red irises were as dark as blood like the blood spilled on the ground. His blood.
"Mister Smith," Nicolai drawled, his voice rising and falling like that of a child in a haunted house. It was deadly sweet and tempting, but Mister Smith knew that if he listened to the voice, he was going to die.
