Nyctophilia
(n.) love of darkness or night;
Finding relaxation or comfort in the darkness

Moments later, Ruslan's computer screens glitches and gives a clear view of different rooms within the same house.

"Okay... top of the server we have Douglas O'Sullivan. I've just hacked into the cameras in his home."
With a final click of his keyboard, Ruslan sits back admiring his work.

"Pfft, even his name sounds pedophilic."
I snort as I lean over towards Ruslan's screens, one hand on the back of his chair and the other on his desk.

"Um.. Bina. Personal space maybe?"

I turned to see Ruslan's eyebrows raised cockily as his eyes glue on my chest area which is unknowingly in close proximity to him.

I snort once again.
"Get used to what you're seeing, cause there's going to be a whole lot more." I roll my eyes, standing upright.

"If that's you trying to hint that you want sex, there's better ways to go about it."

I smack the back of Ruslan's head harshly.
"No mudak. I got fired from safe house duty. The next job on the agenda is stripping at the Kamchatka*."

*Kamchatka - this is the name of a famous bar in Moscow, Russia. But in this story it will be a Gentleman's club.

"First of all, ouch. Secondly, I'm not surprised you got fired after causing a recruit to literally be on fire.
Ha! Did you see what I did there."

Ruslan turned to look at me with a smug smile of proudness as though he had cracked the most grandest of jokes. The blunt and unimpressed look on my face reflected otherwise, needing no words as the grin was wiped clean from his face. He slowly turns back to face his computer as he clears his throat, embarrassed.

"Well I'm sure you will be as good of a worker at the Kamchatka as you were at the safe house...
with less fires of course."

As Ruslan mumbled the final few words of his sentence, my hands went flying to grip his throat.

"What was that? I couldn't exactly hear?" I taunt.

"Okay okay okay too early, ahhhh. L-let. Me. G-go!"
Ruslan managed to choke out, his face beginning to flush red as he sticks out his tongue exaggeratedly.

I was ready to black him out before the corner of my eyes catches movement on the computer screen.

Letting Ruslan go, I immediately turn my attention to the visuals in front of me; with both of my hands now on the desk, I could feel the blood draining from my face and my fingers curl into fists, my nails scratching against the wooden table until they finally sink into my palms.

Ruslan's spluttering cough blended into the white noise in the back of my head as my eyes locked onto a balding white, fat man.

The fat pig is seen in the corner of the camera, his hands being raised and then beating down on something every second or so. Whatever it was that he was beating down on was not shown due to it being in the camera's blindspot. But the sweat covered smile plastered on the pigs face gave me all the information needed.

A young woman inches towards the corner of the screen. She looks scared. Frightened. Terrified.
Her back was hunched over as though protecting something, her body language pleading and yet cowering as she had her arms raised and clasped together in a begging stance. Her tear stained cheeks and flushed face screaming and begging until the pig had enough.

"Who. Is. That?"
My voice low and deep, I could feel my jaw clicking and clenching with every mouth movement.

Immediately on another screen Ruslan begins to bring out pig's profile.

Name : Douglas O'Sullivan
Age : 65
Occupation : CEO of O'Sullivan Corp
Family : A wife (30 years old)
2 children (5 years old) (1 year old )
Background : Convicted Sex Offender - information wiped clean from all servers.
Involved in rumors of Children Trafficking.
Known for sexually assaulting his wife.

"From these records, I'm going to assume her to be his wife."

My eyes still glued on the screen, it seems the pig has finally had enough as he now begins shouting and storming off the room. Moments later the woman emerges from the corner, her skin reddened and her arms tangled with a sleeping baby. She sinks her face into the baby's embrace, her back shaking with silent tears.

"That's the one I want to kill."

The surveillance camera then zooms into a piece of paper on top of the counter.

INVITATION
Dear Mr O'Sullivan,
You are invited to celebrate with us today evening at 11pm at the Kamchatka in honor of your company
- Kindest Regards : O'Sullivan Corp

"We got him." I slammed the table with satisfaction and immediately headed for the door.
"I guess it's time to scout my new job earlier than expected."

"Wait! Bina!"

I glance over my shoulder briefly to look at Ruslan's panic-stricken face as he stands in front of his turned chair.

"Tonight the Kamchatka is acting as a host for the Mob's get together too."

"Get together? For what?"

"I don't know if you already heard, but one of our ports got raided by the Italians earlier today. The Pakhan thinks it's necessary to have everyone come together. Raise our spirits and what not."

"So? What's that got to do with me?" I scoffed.

"I'm just letting you know. Be careful. No one in the mob knows that you're the Reaper and it should stay like that."

"Oh, please." I laugh at him as I turn to grab the handle and pull the door open.
"No one will ever find out. I'll see you there."

§§§§§

I begin rushing my way up the stairs and past the corridor, hurriedly making my way to my room to get ready for an eventful night.

A maid comes into view, politely curtsying before me.
"Is there anything you would like, Miss Pavlova?"

"Coffee." I paid her no attention as I turn a corner.
She nods submissively from the corner of my eye as she starts making her way into the kitchen.

"You need to be nicer to your employees."

"I have an image to uphold. I can't afford to be nice to everyone."

"But you're nice to me."

"Only you, Olga." I smiled.

I turned around to see Olga with a tray of sandwiches neatly stacked on top of each other. Her kind, sapphire eyes watched me, instantly cooling the rush of anxiety clouded in my mind and pushing it to the side for now.

"I hope you're not being nice because I'm old. I could still have a fighting chance against the Italians if I were in hand to hand combat with them." She laughed.

Her laugh was contagious. The wrinkles around her eyes more prominent as they squint at the action.

She turned around, still with a smile embroidered on her lips and gestured for me to follow her with simple nod.

"You knew about the Italians? Why didn't you tell me?" I called out from behind her.

She sighed as she sat down at a lone dining table and I followed suit.

"I didn't want you to worry Bina. I know you. You would have tried to get involved and the Pakhan wouldn't allow that."

"After all these years, you seriously think I care about what that son of a bitch thinks?!"

"Sabina!" She gasps at my use of language, flinching subtly and I instantly felt my heart clenching at her reaction.

"Olga." I sighed, collapsing my upper body onto the table as I sigh in defeat.

She needs to understand.

"Get it through your head. I don't care what the Pakhan or his bastard son think. I am my own person and no one gets to make the decision for me, including you."

Olga's face falls down to her lap as she nods silently.

"Besides." I continued in a small voice, raising my posture back to its strong stance.
"He's cutting me off."

Shamefully, I began walking towards the threshold, avoiding contact with Olga's eyes before the guilt can take over.

"Wait. What do you mean?" I heard her fragile voice call out.

Struggling against the internal conflict of refusing to look at her, my eyes met hers.

Her cerulean iris slowly orbiting, flickered with unsettledness as her pupils dilate in shock. The blackness consuming as worry encroached her expression.

"Nothing. He's just giving me a different job to do from now on." I simply shrugged, sinking my teeth into my lower lips as her perturb gaze penetrated through my heart.
"Have the maid send me my coffee to my room will you? I have something to do."

"Now?!"

"Yes." I curtly replied, beginning to leave the room.
"And please, don't stop me."