Soft Addiction

nzo'

ht of anger fell on my shoulders. The night air was cool, a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves as I stood on the rooftop, the city lights sprawling beneath me like a sea of stars. I took a slow sip of my wine, savoring the rich, dark flavor that lingered on my tongue. The weight of my thoughts pressed heavily on my mind. Up here, the world feels both vast and intimate. It's a place where power and tranquility coexist, where one can survey their domain and contemplate the next move in the quiet of the night. Going through the stress of another wedding was hard for me. I had just lost a bride a few weeks ago; how could I possibly get married again? I thought as I slowly sipped my wine. Rumors are already everywhere; some call me Cannibal, others say I use my brides for shooting sprees, and some say I kill them to gain power. For the first time in a long while, my whole being was filled with emotions I can't explain. "Boss, we are ready to leave." A voice interrupted my thoughts. It was Marcus, my associate. Without turning, I replied, "I need you to inform Damian to meet me immediately." My voice laced with authority. I gently took another sip from my glass. "Okay, Boss," he said, his tone depicting respect as he hurriedly exited the rooftop. I turned slowly, my gaze following his retreating figure. The moonlight cast sharp shadows across my face, highlighting the cold determination in my eyes. The night was far from over, and in this world, every move was a calculated risk. But that was the life I had chosen, and I would see it through to the end. Soon, I heard a soft footstep behind me, the subtle shift in air as Damian approached. "You sent for me, Boss," he said as he stood a few meters away from where I was. "Yes, I did, Damian," I replied, slowly turning to face him. "Any news on my bride's death?" I asked as he took a few steps closer to where he stood. "No Boss," he replied, "we lost the hitman this morning." "What do you mean you lost him?" I asked, slamming my fist on the table, causing the glass of wine to ri