The mocking laughter of the two men hung in the air, but Vincenzo's face remained eerily still. His jaw was so tight a muscle in his cheek twitched, but the only true sign of the coming storm was his eyes. As their taunts continued, the irises, once pale blue, seemed to contract and wither. The pupils blew open, swallowing the color whole until his stare was nothing but a bottomless, obsidian void. The light in the reception area died between them, leaving a flat, soulless black that made Charles's and younger man's laughter falter and catch their throats.
His composure shattered like glass, a high-strung tension snapping and releasing something ugly. Vincenzo's voice became sharp, serrated whisper, raw and full of manic energy that promised pain. It was the sound of a mind unwinding. "Wanna know exactly what I do?" he hissed, leaning closer, a terrible gleam in his gaze. The psycho darkness returned to his eyes, not with a quiet calm, but with a frantic, agitated light that was more frightening than any sound. His pupils were wide and unblinking, reflecting a madness that had finally broken free.
***
"He's getting antsy," the younger one muttered, his nervous energy a tight wire between them.
"So? Let him," Charles shot back, enjoying the way the other man's forced calm was fraying. "He's got nowhere to go."
Vincenzo, who had been staring at the wall as if to calm himself down, slowly turned his head. The deadness in his eyes from a moment ago was gone, replaced by a frantic, pinprick glint that seemed to expand with each passing second. A tight, unnatural smile streched his lips. "Nowhere to go?" he whispered, his voice like the scrape of dry blade. "That's what you think." He began to laugh, a sound that started as a low rattle in his chest and climbed into a shrill, piercing cackle that made the skin crawl. The younger one felt a cold weight settle into his gut. The game was over.
***
In a cold fluid motion, Vincenzo's hand slid inside his suit jacket. He wasn't reaching, wasn't fumbling- he was retrieving. The sleek, dark pistol appeared as a natural extension of his arm, its polished steel catching the dim light of reception area. The movement was a single, practiced line, so quick it preceded the instict for alarm. Charles was still sneering, but younger man felt chills run down his spine, they didn't have time to process the glint of the firearm before the silence was torn apart by two sharp sparks.
Charles flinched, a surprised stutter on his lips, and a bullet zipped past his ear, missing his temple by a fraction of an inch. A hot, wind-like rush followed the projectile, and he felt his hair stir from the passing air. He stumbled back, his bravado instantly evaporating. The younger man, frozen in place, was greeted by a similar sting as a bullet whizzed past his cheek, leaving a faint, smoking trail. The shots where not an accident, but a deliberate statement of lethal capability and absolute control.
Vincenzo lowered the weapon, its barrel still faintly smoking. "Next time, the bullet won't just say 'hello'," he said, his voice as flat and emotionless gaze. The two men, now pale and shaking, stared at him in wide-eyed terror. "Run along now. I'm busy." He holstered the gun with the same seamless motion he'd used to draw it, the piece disappearing back into his coat as if it were never there at all. Charles and the younger man scrambled away, their earlier bravado had dissolved into a frantic, graceless escape, their feet slipping on the polished marble floor of reception area in a panicked rush to put distance between themselves and the man they shouldn't have messed with.
***
The crisp, percussive cracks of two gunshots from the reception area shattered the underground penthouse's quiet luxury. The sound was a trigger, instantly overriding all of Grayson's years of training to be unobtrusive. In one fluid motion, the silver tray he was holding was deposited noiselessly on a side table. His starched white gloves were shed just as quickly, revealing a scarred grip that had seen far more than polishing silver. Without breaking his stride, he moved from a fast, silent walk to a full-out run, the sounds of his handmade leather shoes on marble the only echo in his wake. As he closed the distance, the impeccable facade of the polite butler dissolved, replaced by the grim focus of a trained operative.
***
Grayson was portrait of perfect, panicked composure. The grand reception area was empty, save for the opulent furniture and a faint, coppery scent still lingering in the air. His eyes darted across the area, searching for any sign of struggle, a dropped glass, or a fleeting shadow. Nothing. The silence that followed the gunshots was heavier than the one before.
"Looking for someone?" The words were not a question, but a statement of absolute presence. Grayson's heart seized in his chest, and he whirled around so fast he nearly lost his footing. There, standing where the shadows converged beside the archway, was a figure he could not have sworn was there a second before. Vincenzo hadn't glided, hadn't tiptoed- he simply existed, a quiet, immovable face. The dark suit seemed to swallow the light around him, and his face was as blank and unremarkable as a forgotten face in crowd. It was the kind of invisibility that came not from stealth, but from a complete lack of presence.
Grayson took an involuntary step back, his knuckles turn white around the gun he held. "Wha- How did you- ?" he stammered.
Vincenzo's deep voice cut him off, smooth as worn leather, yet holding the finality of a closing coffin lid. "It's a matter of knowing where to be when nobody is looking," he said. "And nobody ever looks at the darkness."
***
A sneak peek to the childhood~
Vincenzo still remembered the weight of the grocery bag, the handles cutting into his small hands as he trudged home alone.
His father was on the couch, lost in a haze of smoke and stale beer. "You've got everything?" He grunted without looking up.
The boy placed the bag on the counter, the clinking of bottles the only answer. He wanted to ask for help, but instead, he just said, "Yeah, Dad. Everything."
To be continued...🤍