The night was utterly dreadful. Eddie nursed a wound in his stomach from the bullet you kindly removed a few hours ago, but that didn't diminish the pain. He would be grumbling and groaning in agony if it weren't for the copious amount of alcohol he consumed that night.

Nevertheless, as you assisted him into the chair, he emitted a loud sigh of relief, appearing unusually calm and serene amidst the chaos of the night. All he desired at that moment was a bath and bed, yet there you stood before him in a stunning crimson dress, accentuating all your curves flawlessly, just for him.

"Regarding my policy on refraining from further killings," he remarked, sipping from his glass and swallowing audibly. "I may have fibbed. In fact, I may have breached it a few times," he confessed nonchalantly, though appearing contemplative.

It wasn't entirely his fault, after all. Who could have anticipated the complexity of such a simple task? And only he understood the extent of the beating he endured.

His hand tenderly rested on your hip, his thumb tracing gentle circles, his gaze never leaving your face.

"From now on, I shall heed your counsel; killing is detrimental to business," he whispered, seemingly utterly captivated by you, disregarding his injury and the beating he had suffered.