Page 23 of Phantom Flower

Greedy little rats who thought they could play both sides and walk away rich.

They were wrong. My father assigned me these cleanup missions for a reason. I enjoyed them.

I loved killing.

I took another drag of the cigarette, eyes half-lidded, and scrolled through my phone. Rei’s Instagram was open.

I had stalked it thoroughly after bringing his unconscious body back to that fancy house last night. The picture I had chosen was recent - him smiling (actually smiling) with some bigger guy’s arm slung possessively around his shoulders.

They were outside some Tokyo temple, cherry blossoms in the background. Too fucking cozy.

I attached the photo and hit send.

Dimitri:

Who the fuck is that?

The response came almost instantly.

Good boy. He was learning.

Little Fairy:

Why does it matter? It’s none of your business.

A smile curved my lips.

I could picture him right now.

Dimitri:

Answer me, or I’ll come find you and get the answers straight from that pretty mouth of yours. We both know how well it opens.

The typing bubble appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.

Little Fairy:

He’s a friend from Japan. He was visiting a few months ago. Happy?

A friend. Sure.

The way that bastard’s arm was wrapped around him screamed more than friendship.

I made a mental note to look into this “friend.” If he ever showed up in New York again, he might need a casket.

Dimitri:

He seemed very touchy for a “friend.” I’ll remember his face.

Little Fairy:

You’re insane. It was just a photo. Delete it and stop stalking my socials.

I chuckled. One of the dying men groaned weakly on the floor. I ignored him.

Dimitri:

Why do you always wear those flowers in your hair? Real answer this time.