Fabio turned his body slowly, a movement intentionally crafted to appear weak and helpless. He adjusted his facial expression in an instant, drooping the corners of his mouth and dulling the spark in his eyes to create a perfect mask of sorrow.
"Yes, what is it, sir?" he answered softly. His voice sounded hoarse and fragile. However, behind that mask of grief, his mind worked like lightning; he was mapping the distance between himself and Mark, preparing for the worst should his disguise be compromised.
Mark did not move forward. He simply pointed toward the floor. "Is that your handkerchief?"
Fabio's gaze followed the direction of Mark's finger. A square piece of brown cloth lay on the floor, right near the tip of his shoe. For a moment, Fabio held his breath.
"Oh. Yes," Fabio murmured.
He bent down with a listless motion, as if the weight of the world were pressing upon his shoulders. His fingers plucked the cloth from the ground with a feigned, feeble movement. When he stood straight again, he found the courage to look directly into the eyes of the man he intended to kill, offering a thin smile that appeared sincere but carried a deep sting of pain.
"Thank you very much, sir," Fabio said in a low tone.
***
Fabio's footsteps echoed loudly through the corridors of the headquarters. Upon reaching his office, he went straight to his dark wooden desk. With a hurried, almost violent motion, he jerked the desk drawer open.
He pulled out a brown folder containing the complete dossier on Mark Bernet. Fabio slumped into his high-backed chair and drew his firearm from its holster. He began tapping the muzzle of the gun directly against the photo of Mark's face attached to the document.
Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of metal hitting the desk rang out like a death knell counting down.
The door opened slowly. Martin stepped in with a stiff, formal posture. "I have prepared everything you requested, Boss. The support and logistics teams are on standby."
Fabio did not answer immediately. His eyes remained locked on Mark's photo, his lips curling into a terrifying, thin smirk. "We cannot delay this any longer, Martin. This little rat named Mark Bernet is starting to interfere with my life."
There was a brief pause before Fabio looked up. A powerful murderous aura radiated from his gaze.
Martin cleared his throat softly, trying to break the tension. "Will you be leading this mission personally, Boss?"
"Of course," Fabio hissed. His voice was low but vibrated with suppressed rage. He gripped his weapon tighter. "I will be the one to ensure his death right before my own eyes."
A sharp, rapid series of knocks on the door suddenly shattered the focus of the two men, cutting off their serious conversation.
"Come in," Fabio said heavily, giving permission with a firm tone.
The door opened slowly, revealing Emma, the middle-aged maid who was the most respected staff member in the household. Her steps were hesitant, and her hands wrung nervously against her white apron.
"What is it, Emma?" Fabio asked. He narrowed his eyes, sensing something was wrong from the expression on the woman's face.
Emma shook her head slowly, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. "I think you need to know this, sir," her voice trembled slightly. "Miss Leah. She has not touched her food at all since she first arrived here."
Fabio's brow furrowed, but Emma was not finished.
"Perhaps it was not a major issue before when she was still on an IV drip," Emma continued with an increasingly urgent tone. "But now that the IV has been removed, she still insists on refusing any food. If this continues, it will endanger her life. And the baby."
At the mention of the word 'baby,' Fabio's jaw tightened. A flash of anger mixed with a faint trace of anxiety appeared in his eyes. He stood up with such a violent jerk that his chair screeched loudly against the floor.
"Why are you only telling me this now, Emma?" Fabio hissed. His tone was laden with disappointment, making the atmosphere in the room suddenly oppressive.
Without waiting for further explanation, Fabio strode out of his office with long, emotional steps, heading toward Leah's room. Emma could only bow her head for a moment before half-running to keep up with her master's fury.
The bedroom door swung open with a soft thud. There, on the large bed, Leah sat propped up. Both of her hands were still bound. Her face was deathly pale, and her gaze was hollow, fixed on the bedroom wall.
Fabio approached. His footsteps, usually firm, were now intentionally lightened. He sat on the edge of the bed, leveling himself with Leah's seated position.
"Leah," Fabio called out, his voice low and soft. "Why are you torturing yourself? Why won't you eat?"
Leah's dry lips pulled into a bitter smile. Without turning her head, without breaking her hollow stare, she whispered hoarsely, "You are afraid the child I am carrying will die, aren't you?"
Fabio did not deny it. Instead, his fingers rose, slowly stroking Leah's cheek with his thumb. "Of course the baby is important. But I am also worried about you, Leah."
"Nonsense!" Leah jerked her face away, avoiding his touch. Her eyes, which had been dull, now flashed with a burning rage. Her breath began to quicken, her chest rising and falling unsteadily. She raised her bound hands, pointing with a tremble toward her still-flat stomach.
"You are keeping me in this prison only because of this child, aren't you?!" she screamed with a breaking voice. "You need him so you can remain the boss of your dark world! You want him born just to legitimate your evil power!"
Leah stared sharply into Fabio's pupils, tears beginning to well. "I will not let you use this child as a tool for power. It is better that he never sees the world than to turn out like you!"
Fabio took a long breath, but this time it was not a sigh of exhaustion. In an instant, his mask of tenderness fell away. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by a cold, predatory gaze.
"It seems," Fabio whispered softly, his hand moving to his waist and drawing his pistol from its holster with a movement that was calm yet lethal. "My approach so far has been wrong."
BANG!
The explosion of the gunshot was deafening. The bullet buried itself in the wall right in front of Leah's face, leaving a charred hole and scattered plaster. Leah flinched, her breath seeming to catch in her throat.
"I have been patient enough and tried to be gentle with you, Leah," Fabio hissed. He lunged forward, his strong fingers gripping Leah's chin roughly, forcing her to look directly into his heartless eyes.
"Do you remember... Melly? Anna?" Fabio paused, pretending to think for a moment with a terrifying, lopsided smile. "Who else were those orphans you often visited? Ah. Theo."
Fabio began to play with the muzzle of his gun, twirling it in front of Leah's face as if the cold metal object were a harmless toy.
Leah's entire body went rigid. A cold chill crept up her spine, making the hair on her neck stand on end.
"W-what are you going to do?" she asked in a stuttering, trembling voice. In her eyes now, Fabio was no longer the man coaxing her to eat, but a cold-blooded killer who had just shown his true face.
"You know exactly who I am, Leah," Fabio whispered right against her lips. "I can eliminate anyone in this world without a shred of mercy. Do not force me to do the same to the people you care about."