“I shot her.” Wadsworth gives a cheeky grin while holding the gun firmly in his right hand. He aims it towards you though he makes no show in threatening you further.

“You thought Mr. Boddy was dead. But why?” He inquired knowingly. A hint of amusement danced over his relaxed features.

“You’ve never even met him until tonight.” He adds, as if to emphasize his point. He slowly stalks closer, the barrel of his gun still lazily aimed at you.

“You’re Mr. Boddy.” you breathe, your own words leaving you in a daze of disbelief. You stumble backwards, watching with growing anxiety as he invades your space.

“That’s right. The other man was just my butler.” His British accent was thick in his words, each syllable dripping with pride. He was the one in control of the party since the beginning, not some employee of his.

“He was expendable like everyone else.” He shrugs with his statement, dismissing all of his now dead staff. ’Bunch of bloody no goods they were.’

“I’m grateful to all the others for dispensing of my network of spies and informers. Saved me a lot of trouble.” He spoke casually, puffing out his chest slightly when glancing over to the other guests. Now they were right where he wanted them. No matter how much they might want to turn him in, he had secured his own safety—with each of them committing murder tonight.

“Now there’s no evidence against me.” He hums with a hint of something smug, his words cocksure and resolute. Someone mentions the cops are on their way, to which he almost rolls his eyes.

“Oh the police? I never called them.” He answers easily, keeping a firm eye on the other guests who huddled in the middle of the room together. However they’re not his primary concern at the moment. His bright brown hues flick over to you once more, catching the hint of fear in your gaze as you look to his gun. The worry and anxiety in your beautiful features is as clear as day and he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to comfort you.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you.” he assures you gently, his gaze softening subtly. He points the muzzle of his weapon towards the guests instead, putting action to his statement. He’d wouldn’t hurt you. Never you.