Yuri takes a step to the side. I aim and shoot the Albanian at the center of his head. “There. Finished. You can bring in the next one.”
Bianca
Denis opens the car door for me and rushes to get my bags from the back seat. I try to take them from him, but he hastily moves them out of my reach.
“No. Boss would kill me.” He shakes his head and starts walking toward the building’s entrance.
I look at the heavens and follow him inside. It’s just some cosmetic products and a few pieces of clothing, but he wouldn’t let me touch the bags the whole morning, insisting on carrying them for me. Denis is a nice guy, somewhere around twenty-five, and from what he said, he’s been working for Mikhail since he was eighteen. And he talks nonstop. He gave me the short version of his childhood story, w
