I sat by the fireplace, staring as the flames danced in front of me. It was like watching a ballet in Hell. I twirled my wine in my glass and huffed a sigh.

I cracked my neck and put the glass down on the coffee table. I stood up and fixed my black robes before walking to the grand staircase. I imagined the woman who was sleeping in my bed to descend down and into my arms.

She was one of the woman fallen victim to my uncle’s crimes. Her rich family was all dead, on the hit list of Kenny Ackerman. Her father died before creating his will, and his money died with him. I found her sulking in a bar last night, vulnerable to any predator. So I, being the worst predator, took care of her.

I grumbled and returned to my armchair.

“…like she would ever want me…” I muttered to myself before nursing my glass once more.